Mostly True

For What It's Worth

Image courtesy of Jim Bourg/Reuters

Chris Hondros and Tim Hetherington were killed yesterday in Misrata, Libya. I didn't know Tim. I respected his work and how he went about creating it. I did know Chris. He was a friend and a man I deeply admired.

Chris was a kind and generous person. He was a "working intellectual", which is to say he could speak with great insight on the arts, politics, and world events (in an academic manner), with a priceless knowledge gained through real world experience.

Chris was the rare bird who could lecture on the founding of Liberia, give insight into the current political situation (with first person antidotes of the principles), and offer opinions on where it went wrong, while at the same time showing timeless, riveting images of the resulting chaos.

That's the kind of talent that demands the attention of both would-be presidents, and jaded press corps (as you can see above).

Chris had mastered the greatest feat of photojournalism. Which is not to make great images or tell compelling stories (he was smart, had a great eye, and wasn't afraid of hard work, so in I guess you could say that part came naturally to him). Chris managed to make images that spoke wholly of the people in his photographs. He removed himself from the equation, his work was about others, yet at the same time he made images that completely revealed himself.

Call it a Zen thing.

There are some things, that once seen, demand a response from the viewer. That's why people often avert their eyes when they see a beggar. I think that's why the priest(?) crossed the road when he was coming across the naked and dying man in the parable of the Good Samaritan. By refusing to look upon the man, he could avoid troubling himself. Whereas the Samaritan, upon fully seeing the man, properly responded to his plight.

I know it's not much. I know it's little comfort to the families, but for what it's worth, I think that's some of the motivation for people like Chris and Tim.

I stumbled across Chris a few days after Katrina had ripped up New Orleans. The details are a bit hazy, something to do with a crippled or demented old man, stranded, left to fend for himself in the middle of a flooded neighborhood, perhaps dead or close to it. I think the request for help came from neighbors or a church group. We arrived at the address in separate boats. There was no response to our knocks. The place seemed abandoned. Chris insisted on a thorough search and I seem to remember glass being broken. Like I said, details are hazy.

Thankfully the man had evacuated. The house was empty.

A note of apology was left.

Regardless, Chris was the guy who refused to look the other way. He was, in a very real sense, the Good Samaritan. He made a choice in his life to be a witness, to not only help others to act, but to act himself.

It's no accident the Greek root for the word witness is martyr.

I am deeply saddened by the loss of both Chris and Tim. My prayers are with their families.

 

The Rose

"The Rose, Beijing, 1989" by Kenneth Jarecke/Contact

Normally, as a photojournalist, you try to fade into the background. You have to be in the room, but you can't be part of the show. Tricky. Self-promotion is another tricky skill. It's pretty much the opposite of the cloaking device we normally try to deploy. Few great photographers enjoy both skills. Some do, like David Hume Kennerly, or Vincent Laforet. They can make a great image and then make sure it gets seen. This is a skill I admire, but sadly don't share.

That said, let me say with all humility, that this image is a keeper. It's a real piece of history captured on a 35mm slice of Kodachrome 200.

See, now I feel all uncomfortable.

It was early in the morning during the first big week of the Tiananmen Square student protests. There were about a million people demonstrating at that point and the rest of the world was starting to take notice.

I was working with an Australian photographer that day.

I remember we'd just left a hotel where we caught some breakfast. We were walking east along Chang'an Avenue towards the Square and came across a huge crowd mingling around some government bureaucrat housing. It was hard to see what was going on. When we managed to make our way to the front, we found this lone hunger striker sitting in silent protest in front of a row of (I believe) PLA soldiers.

I'd photographed this guy the previous two days. At that time he was pretty much on his own. Now he had a following. They didn't want to let us inside their makeshift security perimeter. It took some negotiation, err, heartfelt pleading, but they eventually relented.

I think they made us take turns. I don't quite remember, but once I got inside, I worked this scene with a 200, 85, 35 and a think this frame was made with a 28mm lens. I shot vertical, horizontal, centered, and framed to the left and the right. This scene could have been published a hundred different ways. I made so many versions you probably could have done a tri-fold. I used Kodachrome 200, two kinds of Ectachrome (an E-6 film that allows for quicker processing) and maybe even Kodachrome 64. If I had some Polaroid, or Tri-X, I would have shot that too.

Usually, you don't really know if you made a good frame. This wasn't one of those times.

It was a double-truck in Time the following week. I think the version they used was centered to the left and made with the 85 or the 200mm.

This view, straight forward, clean, no gimmicks, is the best. The drum scanned K-200 just sings.

I saw this guy a few days later. He was collapsed and rolled up in a blanket. There was no way I could get anywhere near him again. I have no idea whatever happened to him.

I think, "The Rose" is an apt name for this image.

Here's the link. Give a thought to purchasing this print or one of the nine others.

Thank you.

 

 

 

 

The Rotting of the Big Apple

"Bathers, New York City, 1990" by Kenneth Jarecke/Contact

Back in 1990, Time Magazine decided to do a piece on the wreck that New York City had become. They called their cover story, "The Rotting of the Big Apple" and they assigned me to make the pictures. At that point, Time was very proud of using only color photography. I think it had more to do with the fact that they could actually produce a newsmagazine entirely in color every week, rather than anyone having a great need to see everything in color... every week.

Look at it this way, during the Iranian Hostage Crisis in 1979, master PFJ David Burnett shot both color and black & white while making his historical images of the Ayatollah Khomeini, because the magazines needed both. You see, the color (less newsworthy) pages could be printed earlier in the week while the black & white (breaking news) pages would be printed on deadline.

If memory serves, they made the leap to total color printing in 1981.

Anywho, when I was offered this job I immediately thought b&w. Not so much because I wanted to play against all of the classic b&w photographs of New York City, those great images that make up our collective hive mind of the place (like I pitched to the magazine), but because I was spending a lot of time in Bill Pierce's darkroom/loft/crash pad for wayward PFJ's, and I really wanted an excuse to hangout there some more.

Yes, "wayward PFJ" is redundant.

When I met Bill, I'd long moved on to the wonderful world of Kodachrome. I thought I'd put Tri-X behind me. Still, to learn from a master, who learned from THE master (in another loft over on 6th Avenue), heck, even I was smart enough to grab onto that.

Needless to say, after all they'd done to get them out, Time wasn't overly excited to put black & white images back into their magazine (something they'd accomplished less than ten years before). Still, they gave me a chance. A week actually, to shoot Tri-X around the city and prove it was the right choice for this piece.

While we're on the topic, thank you Michele, for this and so many other gifts over the years.

Eight or nine days later I showed up, in a suit, with a museum box full of 16 x 20, selenium toned, museum quality, fiber-based prints for my presentation.

Yes, the printing costs alone would destroy many a photo budget today. The crazy notion of paying a photographer to shoot for seven days just to prove a point? Oy, don't get me started!

Well, to make this overly long story a little shorter, they went for it! Color us all surprised on that one. The essay was a huge success. So huge that Mayor Dinkins personally banned me from his offices, not the magazine, just me.

"Under the Boardwalk, New York City, 1990" by Kenneth Jarecke/Contact

To brag a bit, the essay was published in dozens of magazines around the world. I've got a banker's box of tearsheets from this take alone. I don't quite remember, but Stern did something like forty pages worth of double-trucks when they printed it.

Probably the biggest accomplishment of the piece however, was reopening the pages of Time magazine to b&w photography.

At the time, "Bathers" was probably my favorite. I thought "Under the Boardwalk" maybe wasn't sophisticated enough, or to be honest, probably just too pretty. To prove my point, "Bathers" was awarded first place in World Press by the chic European crowd, whereas "Under the Boardwalk" took first in the very American POY.

Today I'd say they're both pretty, and good. No fault of my own, they couldn't have been more easier to make, they just fell right into my lap.

Sometimes photography is like that.

"Under the Boardwalk" is probably my most requested print for people's homes and whatnot. I've grown to love it. These days I find it a pleasure to both print and to look at.

Maybe I'm getting soft.

"Bathers" has had a weird life of it's own. At one point, a huge silver print, maybe six feet across, hung behind the bar of a popular Manhattan restaurant. The place is now closed, not sure on the fate of the print. It's been a favorite of both people in the photo community, but also of those with no real interest in photography. The only people that haven't liked it were the Iranian censors empowered by the above mentioned Ayatollah. When it traveled there as part of the World Press exhibit, they insisted on painting over the woman's back with a black marker.

To be fair, about two seconds after I made the frame she did take off her top. I don't think they realized I was there. Yikes. I hightailed it. No need to embarrass us both.

Here's the link.

If you ever wanted a couple of special pieces for your home or office, now is the time to get them. These two go perfect together, and they're the real deal. Well, I like to think so anyway.

I'll write a little bit on the other eight images available (at this special price) over the next few days. Remember, this offer ends on Monday.

Albest (that's Time speak for "All the best").