You live in the face of strangers

I don't know if the fact that I see a lot of people who resemble you is a good thing or not. I'm not even sure if  I can trust my eyes, given that I don't have 20/20 vision.

Sometimes I think I'm just subconsciously (and yet, willfully) torturing myself. And, just to be honest, I think I prefer it this way. It makes me think about and remember you more.

I have yet to encounter someone who sounds like you. It's hard to admit that I'm very close to forgetting your voice entirely. I just wish that if I ever hear someone who's a close match, I'd recognize you in her. I want to remember.

Bill, what's happening out on the street today?

I've been seeing raves about the documentary Bill Cunningham New York and, though I had no idea who he is or what he does (that is, before I saw them blog posts), decided to watch and see for myself what the fuss is all about.

The "Bill" in question is 80+ New York Times photographer Bill Cunningham. For decades, this Schwinn-riding cultural anthropologist has been obsessively and inventively chronicling fashion trends and high society charity soirées for the Times Style section in his columns "On the Street" and "Evening Hours."

Bill is such an amusing and fascinating man! He is funny, quite shy, but definitely has an eye for fashion. His lifestyle is very simple and far from the fancy world in which he moves. He admits to loving clothes and can be quite obsessive in what he does, but he himself does not care for donning expensive garbs. He is well-known among the high society circles which events he often chronicles, but doesn't give a damn about money and paychecks (more than once did he rip his paycheck). He doesn't get fazed by them younger photographers with their digital SLRs and 200mm lenses huddled in a certain spot (as seen during the fashion week part of the film), clicking at every single model strutting down the runway.

He moves around the city in a bicycle, his 29th (he already had 28 bikes stolen), with an old Nikon dangling from his neck. When it's cold, he has this dark blue jacket over his signature street-sweeper-blue-shirt. And when it rains, a black DIY raincoat is always on hand. His room at the Carnegie Hall is full of file cabinets of his work. I really really admire his humble, simple lifestyle and his being down-to-earth. I guess you don't see a lot of that in New York, especially if they're as famous and respected as one certain chap of the name Bill Cunningham.

This docu is entertaining, very amusing, and at times heartbreaking. He reminds me of James Nachtwey in the sense that he is a loner, dedicated his life to his craft, and didn't have time for romance/starting a family.

I do love documentaries about photographers. Which reminds me, I have yet to finish the documentaries on Henri Cartier-Bresson. Might get to that later, I think I'll re-watch this first.

It's nice to be inspired once in a while by, say, something you read over the internet. Especially when it brushes your own reality. One thing I lack though, and sadly, the most important thing, is the motivation to act on that inspiration.

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I have a few things to blog about and another handful of drafts I have no idea if I'll ever get to finish (or, more appropriately, start).

Move, Eat, Learn

3 guys, 44 days, 11 countries, 18 flights, 38 thousand miles, an exploding volcano, 2 cameras and almost a terabyte of footage… all to turn 3 ambitious linear concepts based on movement, learning and food ….into 3 beautiful and hopefully compelling short films…..


= a trip of a lifetime.


move, eat, learn


Rick Mereki : Director, producer, additional camera and editing
Tim White : DOP, producer, primary editing, sound
Andrew Lees : Actor, mover, groover


-Rick Mereki on Vimeo

First saw and blogged about this series (on a previous blog) on August. Oh, what I wouldn't give to experience this for a whole year (all expense paid, of course!). 44 days just seem too short. On second thought, it might be a motivation to actually get out there and explore, make the most out of your short time in a particular place.

This is sooo good.

If your pictures aren't good enough, you are not close enough.

This entry's title are words from Robert Capa. These same words are the ones you'll see on the opening of the documentary film War Photographer. 

  

The film follows the life of photojournalist James Nachtwey on the field. From the first scenes to the very last part of the movie, you will see him in action: camera at hand, photographing away. It shows scenes from several of his assignments, what he does post-assignment, as well as interviews with some of the people he worked with.

I had some questions in my mind while watching the film. A lot of the images shot were those of people grieving about lost homes and lives of their loved ones. It was a bit uncomfortable watching him taking pictures of these people crying and in despair. There were times when he was inches from their faces. Don’t these people feel violated or something?

There was another thing on my mind regarding photojournalists, media people in general. What is their intention? Is it to get stories that would get them up their career ladder? It is for the awards and recognition? Is it pure documentation? For the love of gathering and disseminating information? Isn’t it disturbing to be paid documenting other people’s suffering? Then I thought to myself, doesn’t everybody in any field want even a bit of recognition? It is their livelihood, so naturally they’d get paid. Nachtwey addressed these in the film.

Seeing this movie opened my eyes to the real dangers of such occupation. I find myself asking "How do you do it?" How does one operate with poverty, starvation, chaos, death right in front of you? I really like this film for it addresses this concerns, it answered every question that popped in my head.

I watched this for the fifth time today, I guess. It struck me just the same as the first time. It was just plain powerful, honest, true. I admire you, Mr. Nachtwey. I admire you for your work and for your words. You are one brave, compassionate, determined soul. May you continue to inspire and help people with your photographs.

This is one man who got close enough, don't you think Mr. Capa?

The worst thing is to feel that as a photographer, I am benefiting from someone else’s tragedy. This idea haunts me. It’s something I have to reckon with everyday because I know that if I ever allowed genuine compassion to be overtaken by personal ambition, I would have sold my soul. The only way I could justify my role is to have respect for the other person’s predicament. The extent to which I do that is the extent to which I become accepted by the other. And to that extent, I can accept myself.

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All images are screenshots from the movie.