What remains are memories.

It has been one heck of an experience. I haven’t managed to visit all the exhibitions, but I have had reviews from peers and others – and I know for a fact how awesomely successful the festival has been. It has been extra special for me since I managed to meet and interact with the maestros of photography and that is something I can never forget.

So, here goes my bits and pieces from CM-V:

A photo story to remember:
“Diamond Matters” – Kadir Van Lohuizen (The Netherlands)

Something that has moved me to tears:
“A Photographic Conversation from Borj-al-Shamali” – curated by Yasmine-Eid-Sabbagh (Palestine)

Photojournalism at its core:
“A People’s War” – from Nepal

Being inspired:
“photo.circle” – from Nepal

The truth unfolded:
“Moving Walls” Exhibition – from Open Society Institute

In love with:
Kutumba’s soulful music – from Nepal

It really has been splendid. Thank you all for being with me and this blog. I was quite thrilled to get over 100 hits every day – a number I couldn’t fathom from beforehand – given the fact of the percentage of people with Internet access and interest in blogging in Bangladesh. I was even more thrilled to know about the young people who have visited the exhibitions and have written to me or talked to me. The publications at Rising Stars (The Daily Star) have been superb – my sincere gratefulness to my editors and readers for sticking with the 4-week series.

I still have a couple of things to share, so this blog isn’t officially outdated. Please tune in for more interviews, personal insights and my two-penny worth rambling on photography.

2.    When I was small, I always wanted to be a footballer.

3.    I would like to be reborn as me.

4.    I indulge in being more at home. I travel so much!

5.    I will die, but I will not leave my children and wife.

6.    Roses are red, violets are blue, and the world cannot be understood.

7.    My best quality is I am nice to people.

8.    I think I will use more time with experimenting.

9.    The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning is thank the Lord I am still alive.

10.    Music makes me feel sad in a good way.

11.    To me, God is nature and art.

12.    To me, beauty is melancholy.

13.    My worst quality is lack of structure.

14.    The cup is always half of red wine.

15.    The first piece of art that mesmerized me was Roman Vishniac’s ‘The Only Flowers of Her Youth’, 1938

16.    When a perfectly set up shot goes wrong, it gives you a lot of opportunities.

Over the past month, I took the highest number of interviews at a stretch in my writing career till date, courtesy of Chobi Mela V. The experience was one of that most rewarding in my life and it would be an understatement to precisely explain the lengths I have learnt through these conversations. While the individuals I have come across are indeed the finest photographers and artists in the world today, they are also – surprisingly – the most friendly and modest people I have known.

Morten Krogvold happens to be one such individual. One of the twelve Hasselblad Masters of 2002, this Norwegian portraitist is currently the Artistic Director of the Nordic Light International Photo Festival. His works have been exhibited worldwide and he is considered as one of the top photography icons of today. It was natural for me to feel intimidated before interviewing someone of his caliber; but much to my surprise, Krogvold in person, was everything but intimidating. On the contrary, he was friendly and lovable, almost to the extent you can perceive him ‘fatherly’ and made everyone feel at home and on their feet in his presence.

I met him on a late January evening at Pathshala, the South Asian Institute of Photography where he was conducting a workshop on ‘Photography Aesthetics’ amongst the students. He came with a warm grin to meet me, and apologized for being a bit late because of the typical Dhaka traffic. He laughingly mentioned how he has calculated that Hasib Zakaria from Pathshala has probably spent five years from his thirty years of life being stuck in traffic congestion! The very idea sounded ridiculous, but was unfortunately, true when one sums up the hours we spend on the road. He insisted I stop thinking he’s 100 years old, since apparently, my body language indicated I was very frightened he might just drop on the floor as a result of old age. Nonetheless, sitting across Morten Krogvold and talking, while sipping black coffee was perhaps one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

RS: You’ve been to Bangladesh on several occasions. What do you feel about being here and Dhaka?
MK: Well, it’s been a lot of changes since the first time I’ve been here, which was in 1996. I call it a ‘terrible beauty’. The combination of the traffic and poverty, with that of the beautiful smiles of the people around you is really what attracts me and makes me come back every year. It’s wonderful how Bangladesh has secured the place in my heart because of its people.

RS: You’re here this time to conduct a workshop amongst Pathshala students, and have seen their works. What would you say about the quality?
MK: We do have some brilliant, top notch photographers from Bangladesh who are exhibiting their work internationally. However, these students are all bright, but have a tendency of making excuses. I don’t allow excuses. We have made progress through the workshop, but I believe that the digital revolution has created an opportunity for laziness. You can click and click, and go back home to select one good photo out of a hundred. I’ve always worked in film and 90 percent of the world class photographers continue working in film because it creates a pressure to limit yourself to quality and make a statement. With the digital cameras, people think it’s too easy. You can go down to a slum here and do what a trained monkey with a digital colour camera can also do. They don’t pick their subjects, but when I push them, they break out of their shells and produce good work. I think these students love to be pushed!

RS: So, do you think because of the digital revolution, there is an abundance of photographers? Is that a good thing or a bad thing?
MK: It’s both. The good thing is that families can take photographs. The bad thing is that they store in their computers. Photographs are meant to be in print and not stored in a CD. Photography is a craft and as a result of the digital revolution, people think it’s too easy, which is not true. There is also a dependency on Photoshop, which I think just creates laziness. However, the best thing about the digital revolution is that you can shoot photographs at night in colour which is very difficult in black-and-white film. The thing about technology is that it should not create dependency. You can use it to your advantage, but shouldn’t spend 3 to 4 hours a day on it. I love the technology, but I think people misuse it. A digital camera can never create good photographs; it comes from the heart.

RS: What would your advice be to young, aspiring photographers who will be reading our conversation?
MK: The first thing I will suggest is that they go to the dark room and start working in film. Working in film is a learning process. Of course, you can switch to digital, but try learning the analogue stuff first. The next thing you need to do is work hard and be dedicated. The world doesn’t need more photographers; it needs doctors, bus drivers and nurses. If you’re a photography student and are in doubt of whether you want to go in that direction, then don’t pursue photography as a career. You need to be certain and give your 100 percent dedication to the field. Then, photography is about meeting people and being polite to them. The most important tool behind the camera is a smile. You need to read good books, watch quality movies and study art history. My best advice to the young would be to spend less time being dependent on technology. The Internet is a good thing as long as you’re using it for an hour every day. However, when you over do it, you’re wasting valuable time. I know it because I’ve seen it. You’re 22 or 23, and suddenly, you’re in your 50s. Forget the camera and learn the technique. Try to find your own voice in photography and show the world what you have in Bangladesh. I often ask my students what they would do in photography if they knew they wouldn’t fail, what would they do to find their own voice. Most importantly, you need to forget all excuses!
—

Published in Rising Stars on February 19, 2009

NECROPOLIS, a photo-performance by Parnab Mukherjee is a riveting performance. It provokes, angers, saddens and mesmerises. It is one of the ‘must see’s of Chobi Mela V.

Drik Gallery II. 5:00 pm Tuesday 17th February 2009.

—
Tanvir Murad Topu
Coordinator
Chobi Mela V

CMV Updates

Worth a peek! (=

A smiling victorious MARTI turns to face me.

“It’s not always easy to capture the perfect candid shot,” the photographer from Paris replies, while fumbling with her numerous memory sticks.

“Oh come on, MARTI, if you are using a super-cool, expensive camera, doesn’t that do half the job for you?” I argue.

“Ah, my dear, I don’t think it’s about camera equipment at all. Good photography is about observation. Having a creative eye that picks up something unusual, strange, ironic, beautiful, joyful, tragic, or different. The important thing is to have the courage to get out there and do it. The courage to observe and interact with our surroundings, and to shoot lots of pictures and select only a few.  Courage is what is essential. It doesn’t matter what equipment you’re using. It’s about an expression of the soul, which can be captured in many ways.”

“But that makes all of us photographers, doesn’t it?”

“Well of course, in the digital world, everybody is a photographer. We have cell phones. We can record any moment as it unfolds. I think what makes each of us different is how we choose to portray what we see,” she explains as we walk down a narrow Dhaka alley. The midday sun is hidden by the boarding houses and the hustling of the market place begins to slow down. “If you want to be original, look at a small neighborhood as an entire universe and choose a well-defined subject that really interests you. Then, comes the hard part. Say something no one else has ever said. Gradually you will emerge as a fine photographer.”

“But what if I’m really not good enough?” My obstinate allele kicks in and I look deep into MARTI’s hazel eyes to make my point. “I think if I start believing I’m very good, I will sound arrogant and over-confident!”

“I think when you are truly an artist; you don’t care about what other people think. You are compelled by your own deep passion and inspiration. When you are on a real path, each step you take transports you further along that path. Photography is a great adventure and we are each discoverers, pathfinders. Forging ahead is the most important thing,” MARTI replies with patience and smiling. “I don’t think you can ever say you’re not good enough.”

“When I photographed in Cambodia, I wanted to tell the story of the survivors of one of the most terrible genocides we have ever known. I was driven into the battlefields where mortar rounds were exploding everywhere. When the bombs exploded around me they didn’t ask if I were Cambodian or French. Bombs can’t read pieces of paper that says “PRESS”. Bombs simply hit and they hit indiscriminately. Sadly, they often take the lives of women and children who have never carried a weapon in their lives. While I was shooting, I never once thought about whether I was good enough. If I was the only photographer allowed into restricted areas, it was because I persisted, not because I was better than anyone else. Today my work is part of the Cambodian National Cultural Heritage Centre. I have ceded the rights to the work to the Cambodian people because it is their story.”

We walk past houses painted in shades of orange and white. An intersection between the market and the residences leads to the river. As MARTI and I walk in the direction of the watery wastelands, my eyes suddenly stop at the sight of a group of teenage boys sitting in a circle taking drugs in broad daylight.

I look at MARTI and grumble.
“What I hate about being a struggling female photographer is that I just can’t go everywhere and photograph the most interesting subjects, largely because of my sex and for reasons of personal safety. That’s why I sometimes feel it’s unfair that the boys get to go to all the exciting places!”

MARTI stops and turns to look at me. Her face has resumed its tranquility and she smiles back at me.

“Yes, it is unfortunate that photography is still seen in many parts of the world as a man’s profession, but that is changing.  It is true that women cannot, for example, go to the park at night in Dhaka without being accompanied and take photographs of drug addicts taking narcotics. But hey, look at the bright side! As a woman, you have the gift of entering into intimate situations more easily. Besides, the scenario has been changing over the last fifteen years. When I was in Cambodia, I was the only woman photographer around. Today there are many courageous women out there.”

“I think one issue that comes up for women, however, is that of being responsible mothers.” MARTI continues. “When I was in the Cambodian jungles, there were mines all over the place and I had to be careful. I had my small son at home and could not overlook my responsibility as a mother.”

“But isn’t that a pity, MARTI? That we are the ones who are called on to make sacrifices? If you were a man, would you have considered all that while you were photographing?”

“Perhaps not. But for me it was not a question of a sacrifice. It was a conscious choice. And that is often one of our strengths as women.  We can make conscious choices because we are the caregivers,” she replies. “A good number of the professional photographers in Iraq and Afghanistan, for example, have no children.  Some of those who have families at home have financial securities, so their wives and children are taken care of if something happens to them. Yet, there are people like you and me, Diya. In spite of our situation, we go out into the streets and shoot in potentially dangerous situations. I have been arrested more times than I can count, but I try not to take unnecessary risks. I have to be true to myself on that one. A front page story in the New York Times may not be worth my life. We all struggle everyday of our lives to be ourselves.  There are always events that challenge our deepest sense of who we are. For women it’s always a particular challenge. When you have young children, there is a huge responsibility, but that doesn’t mean you have to give up photojournalism. You might need to take some colleagues or friends with you.”

We have started walking again towards a trash dump along the Buriganga. MARTI tells me about Uma, a child that she has been photographing in India. Uma is a young 8 year-old girl who lives on the edge of a toxic waste dump near Pondicherry. Uma and her family hunt for metal in the smoldering burning plastic. MARTI has spent time learning about Uma’s life. What surprised her most is that while Uma lives under difficult conditions, she doesn’t complain. On the contrary, she is a happy child. The families there are gypsies and there is a strong bond between them. MARTI told me how she has seen really miserable children in Cambodia because so many of them are orphans and they suffer from extreme solitude. No one cares about them.

“Say MARTI, is there any formula for being a good photographer?” I blurt out the question. It’s been playing inside me for a while, and considering how MARTI has been to many places and worked extensively on varying projects, I had a feeling she would have some advice for me.

“None, except one, and that is absolute integrity. Our photographs should portray the truth, not lies. I always feel I need to be respectful towards my subjects.” MARTI is walking ahead of me and has to shout out the response. “If you want to photograph someone and that person isn’t very willing, something you can figure out through body language and expressions, it’s best to back off, unless you’re telling a story of socio-political importance. People have a right to their own lives and peace of mind. Stay with the truth
and your own integrity. When you meet Uma, you will see the hardship she goes through. However, that doesn’t make her unhappy. When I photograph her, I don’t make it appear as though misery is the only truth about her life. I also try to portray the small joys that make her smile!”

While I pull out my camera from the backpack, MARTI has already begun shooting the kids along the river. The Dhaka sun shines in the west and pecks a glint in the eyes of the two photographers now shooting in the same place. They may be distant through their age, experience and knowledge, but somehow, they share the same world behind the lens. I look above my viewfinder to see MARTI, playfully capturing moments of interaction with a group of kids. She is indeed the friend who has made me feel differently about myself and that is a bond we will share for a very long time.
—

MARTI is a photojournalist and writer based in Paris, France and in Pondicherry, India. Her photos have been exhibited in London, Paris, Amsterdam, San Francisco, Tokyo, Phenom Penh, Chennai, and Dhaka. Her work is part of permanent collections, including the Musee de Louvre in Paris and the International Museum of Photography in Switzerland.

MARTI’s work has been selected for the Angkor International Photo Festival in Cambodia, The United Nations High Commission on Refugees International Film Festival, The City of London Piccadilly Soho Show, and Rencontres Photographiques in Paris. She was recently selected for the Singapore International Festival of Photography and is being shown at Chobi Mela V in Dhaka.

She is also a Penguin author and has published her work in books, newspapers and magazines including PHOTO Magazine, the New York Times, Washington Post, and le Monde-Guardian Weekly. She has won a Rolex citation for her environmental work and is a United Nations ECO SOC representative for NGO’s in Geneva. MARTI is particularly concerned about the dying oceans, disappearing nature, and the social conditions of children. Her book, This Earth of Ours, has a prologue by His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Marcelo Broadsky (Argentina) is on 1st floor with a collection of photos of his old classmates. Some were taken with a blown-up backdrop of the class photo, and the people who were in it were photographed in front of it. This is quite an interesting walk down the memory lane to see how people change over time. It also included a memoir for friends who have passed away or died in wars.

Alliance Francaise
It’s no surprise that this gallery features the works of Isabelle Eshraghi from France. Her subjects are women under the title “Women, More Than a Veil”. It’s an inquisitive collection of photos that highlight on aspects of Muslim women outside the cliched perception of rigorous religion and veils. There is a particular photo of a young woman with fired-up eyes behind her veil, which has struck me the most. Coincidentally, I have a similar shot of a woman in a veil, but our presentations are different. It’s coloured, centre-framed and yet, exceptionally attractive.

Bengal Gallery of Fine Arts
This is a collection of photos from the 9 years of civil war in Nepal. It’s heart-rendering and some will leave you in tears. I’d say, in my most heartless form, this is top-notch photo journalism. Titled ‘A People’s War”, it exhibits moments and struggles of Maoist soldiers during the 9 years and is a must-see for all.

All aforementioned exhibitions are ongoing till 9th February 2009.
—

Kolpona Boarding, Shakhari Bazar
If you can actually make an effort to visit Munem Wasif’s “Blood Splinter of Jute” in Puran Dhaka, you will not regret that effort. My friend and I visited this on a horse-cart and it was one heck of an experience! The walls of Kolpona Boarding eventually form a story of how jute had once revolutionized and later, died in the economy of a country. The B&W/blow-out sepia presentations are quite the thing and I was surprised to see the visitor’s book almost filled up. This just goes to show how powerful MW’s works are that is has managed to attract so many people to see it.

When I talked to Wasif Bhaia a couple of days back, I asked him why he picked such an unusual location for such an important exposition. He smiled and said, “My works are for the people. I grew up in Old Dhaka and it was important for me to exhibit my photographs at a place where it will be more accessible to the common people around me, and all of us.” There is belief that exhibitions are for the rich, the apparent sophisticated. I think Wasif here has just broken that belief.

“Blood Splinter of Jute” ongoing till 12th February 2009.

Shannon Castleman had also conducted a workshop on ‘Alternative Print Process’ for 1st Year students at Pathshala.

SRD: What is your contribution to Chobi Mela V?
SC: The work I am exhibiting consists of portraits of mobile business owners in Vietnam. I’m actually working on a large-scale project on mobile businesses in Southeast Asia. In Singapore, there used to be mobile businesses at every corner and now they’re gone. This project started in 2007. It considers the effect globalism and free market economy has had on some occupations in Asia. As societies and commerce have become more advanced, people have become more mobile, businesses have become stationary, and the future looks bleak for the peripatetic entrepreneur in many places.

SRD: I see. So, is there a particular reason why you’re doing portraits? Is that your specialization?
SC: No, actually for this project, I’m doing portraits. Most of my recent work is night photography that I do with my 4 by 5 camera. However, in context of mobile businesses, the idea was to find ways of keeping them alive. As we become more technologically inclined there is a gap between the people who are not familiar with new technologies. This project aims to eventually help to bridge that gap in some way. We are looking at how to make these mobile businesses more sustainable, by using low-tech solutions to help these businesses keep up with their competition and also help to keep some of the local flavor alive. The portraits were an attempt to document many of these vanishing characters that were once found on every corner in Singapore and are still common in many parts of Southeast Asia.

SRD: I’ve learnt that you’ve done freelance work in between your Bachelor’s Degree and Master’s Degree. Were you engaged in specific projects?
SC: Initially, I worked for newspapers, which was a great place to start.  It meant I got to photograph every day and learned how to work under pressure. Then, in the mid ‘90s there was a shift in the editorial and fashion photography world. Suddenly fashion started to look a lot more like documentary and I began receiving more of those types of assignments. At this point the work I was doing for hire, and this was very closely related to my personal work that had consisted primarily of portraits of my friends and the scene that surrounded them. It was great for me for a while in that I was getting paid to created the images I wanted to see, and would be creating even if they weren’t for hire.

By 1998, things again shifted in the fashion world and art directors wanted to go back to the clean studio look that didn’t interest me. So, instead of changing the way I shot, I decided to quit taking fashion and editorial assignments and choose instead to once again concentrate on my personal work.

SRD: Would you say working freelance meant you could not do what interested you?
SC: I think it was difficult and I hoped that at some point I could stop selling myself to find clients. It didn’t really work that way, and I had to keep selling. Furthermore, the bigger the jobs I got, the less I enjoyed them because it involved more people and in turn, more demands. As my jobs got bigger the people became more important in terms of their status, this was stressful for me and made the work become less fun. This made me realize that I was working hard for a goal that I didn’t want.

SRD: So, if someone who wants to pursue photography professionally, would you suggest he or she becomes solely engaged in the field without having any other means of income?
SC: I guess it’s safer to have another means of income. I currently have two jobs – one as an educator and the other, as an artist. However, for the latter, I feel as though I still have to sell myself but now I don’t have create for my clients’ demands. I think, in the beginning, a photographer who wants to get into the field should find a way to do photography all the time – for me it was the newspapers. Initially, I did a lot of jobs which I didn’t want, but I needed practice, it helped me gain confidence. Every day I had to shoot, every day I had to find a way to make it creative. There are different ways of doing it.  Another way to do it is to freelance and have another job that is related to photography. I do think it is important to stay with in the field of photography if you are at all serious about being a professional photographer.

SRD: You’ve also taught at Dar Al-Hekma College in Saudi Arabia which is a top-ranked women’s college in Jeddah, and said it was a ‘challenging experience’. Why is it so?
SC: Well there are a lot of issues with photographing in Saudi Arabia; there are both political and cultural issues that dictate what you can photograph. Also you aren’t allowed to photograph anything related to the military or the royal family and it isn’t always clear what that is. On top of that, my students were women, so they weren’t free to walk around – especially with cameras. It was a challenge because I was giving them assignments which were difficult for them to execute, and yet somehow they did it. Some of them have even pursued photography into Masters Level, while some of them are now working commercially.

SRD: Having had an experience with women photographing at a restricted environment, what would be your advice to young women who want to pursue photography in Bangladesh? Our cultural situation is not as limited as that in Saudi Arabia, but photography is still largely seen as a man’s profession.
SC: I think as a woman, you have the advantage of being able to talk with more people and make them feel more comfortable in your presence. A lot of men cannot do that. Also, you have access to places that men don’t, concentrate on those types of stories. Use what that fact that you might be underestimated as a woman to your advantage and prove them wrong, but do it safely. Safety can be more of an issue for a woman, when necessary ask a male friend or relative to tag along with you.

SRD: Perhaps, but even then, women photographers are underestimated in Bangladesh. When I do urban portraiture, for example, I often try to pick up a conversation with the person I will be shooting, but many a times, they have responded with a sneer at the thought of a girl taking their photographs.
SC: I think that is a challenge that you can try to overcome by being charming and more confident as a photographer. You can show you know what you’re doing and talk to the people more.  Your camera and a smile can be a great weapon, meaning you can smile and photograph those who are sneering at you and it might stop the way they are behaving.

SRD: What would your suggestion to be to young people who want to do photography in Bangladesh?
SC: Shoot your world, and let the rest of the world see what you see. I think what the world is hungry for in this era of globalization to know more about each others’ cultures. It is now possible to share your work with the whole world. You’ve got the Internet and everyone has access to that. Get your work out there submit to festivals, scholarships and competitions you find online. You’re only a click away from your dreams!

Transcription Credit: Mushfiq Rahman
—

Published in Rising Stars on February 12, 2009

In the very beginning a comment of a seven-year old boy shocked them,
“You came to let us take photographs, took the pictures and then you’ll never come back?”

This incident was the proof of how photographers who had previously visited the camp have never really integrated the people in their work, and used the children as ‘photographic clickers’. Deeply moved by the sentiments, the duo decided to embark on the venture that allowed the children to go out and shoot on their own. The idea was very simple – the young would find their own subjects, shoot, come back to the atelier to edit and later, discuss their works. The project was neither meants to be showcased to the Western world or used commercially for personal benefits. It was only to provide the children an outlet for expressing themselves, and thus have produced different bodies of work in unusual and interesting conversations.

The project began with a group of 10 to 12 years olds who are all by now 17 to 19 years of age. In course of their work, Yasmine and Simon decided to hold an exhibition of the photographs that the group has produced, essentially for the people at the Borj-al-Shamali Camp. It was important to engage the community since the photographs that the young produced often reflected on what was happening in their families or at home. Most of the work for the exhibition was done by the children themselves. Posters were designed and distributed wherever it was possible. Some of the children even suggested dropping paper planes from helicopters to advertise the exhibition – the same way Israeli helicopters drop papers before they shoot rockets on a Palestinian Camp.

The exhibition was successful in the sense it gave the children and the community around them a feeling of participation. The works displayed were of varying sorts and reflected on how each child perceived the realities that surrounded his/her ‘growing up’. What was also interesting is that one of the photographs on display was that of an old man who had died two weeks before and was the father of one of the women who had come to the exhibition. The young photographer – in acknowledgement – gave away her father’s photograph to the woman, which in turn, begun another segment of the project, i.e. to archive the incidents and people that have been a part of the camp.

The idea was snowballed when the children began bringing photos from their homes that were taken before the project has commenced, and these were interesting documentation of the family’s histories. It recorded life at the Palestinian Refugee Camps 20 to 30 years back. The project is still growing.

Later, another exhibition in Beirut was organized because the group felt the need to invite other photographers and people to see their world. This again was done largely by the children themselves, and gave their photographs a feeling of appreciation and importance to the world outside the Borj-al-Shamali Camp.

When Yasmine was contacted in December 2008 from Chobi Mela for an exhibition of the photographs from Borj-al-Shamali Camp, it was giving the young a voice far away from their homes. Their photographs carried their messages to an international audience.

‘A Photographic Conversation from Borj-al-Shamali’ is on display at Chhobi Haat (Dhaka University Campus) in the first round of Chobi Mela V exhibitions. It will bring the stories of young Palestinians at a time when the world has been shook by the atrocities at Gaza.

It is often believed that the best photographs are the ones produced by the most professional ones. Yasmine and Simon have always been particular about not guiding the work produced by the young in any western, occidental or ‘technical’ way. The photographs are very personal and reflect on what the young photographers have felt. The messages are the ones that they wanted to give a voice to and are expressive perceptions of how they see their place in the world. It is perhaps one of the most moving compilations of photographs I have come across in the festival. They carry a different meaning, not because they are professionally and technically the most fabulous composition; but how they reflect on the growth of a child to a young adult at a time and place they cannot safely call their own.

RS: Tell us about your contribution to Chobi Mela V this year.
YES: My colleague and I started a project called ‘a photographic conversation’ at the Palestinian Refugee Camp in Lebanon about 7 years back. We worked with a group of young boys and girls, who were around 10 to 14 years old when we started and are now 17 to 20 years of age. They all have cameras and they take photographs, by choosing their own subjects. Later, they come back to our atelier and do the editing. They take photographs because this is the medium I have proposed them. But the idea was not to make them professional photographers, even though one of them decided that this is what he wants to become.

I’ve been living at the Camp for 3 years now and have an atelier where they come to do their editing and discuss their work. Over the years, they have produced different bodies of work and we made a selection for the exhibition at Chobi Mela this year.

RS: That’s really exciting because they are almost of my age. Because you are working with young people, were there any difficulties that you had to face because they were not professionals? Did you train them?
YES: No, age is not that important. I often think that it’s not professional photographers who do the best photographs. But if you want to do commercial photography, work in schedules and do the perfect lighting for a perfume or of a model, then you should of course train and have all the technical knowledge. But to express yourself through images, you do not require any prior knowledge. For me, it was not a problem that they are young or inexperienced. On the contrary, I think it’s good they look at images through their eyes and learn through their own practice to read images and take photographs themselves. I don’t want to dictate them western esthetics nor do I want to push them to work on subjects that would interest a certain public. They are free to work as they want to. It’s really very personal. I’m only there to ask questions in order to reflect on their works, to go deeper into it and to push them to be more aware of what they do. In this way, they are more likely to achieve a very unusual combination of subjects and presentations.

Photos by Simon Lourie

RS: Since you’ve been working with young people and started very early, do you have any advice to young photographers who are trying to make a mark in this field?
YES: To be honest, I’m no longer so much into the aspects of being a photographer. Of course, it’s something very nice and useful. However, there are almost a thousand photographers per square kilometer. Everybody wants to be a part of this, which is understandable because everything now goes through media and pictures. People don’t read anymore. They just watch television. I see photography as an interesting thing because it is more important nowadays to be able to read images and to understand them. But I wouldn’t like to encourage anyone to be photographer because I feel it has become something of a fashion. Everyone should do what he really likes to do and follow his own passion. If the passion is photography, then they should simply go for it. Anything you do in life is nice when you do it 100 percent. It can be Biology, Chemistry or anything from one of the thousand different categories. You can be a photographer, a painter or a technician.

RS: So, would you say we have an abundance of ‘photographers’ in the 21st Century world? Do you feel there are too many photographs that mean very little?
YES: Well, of course, if you have too many photographers, there will be too many photos where more than half of them will be nonsense. They will not carry any real message.

RS: There is a common belief that a good camera is crucial in producing a good photo. Some feel people who carry SLRs are the ones with the ‘real deal’. What would be your reaction to such beliefs?
YES: I think you can shoot with anything. You can shoot with a pinhole camera if this is what interests you. It really depends on what you want to do. What is most important is to work with one camera that you know very well and that you are able to manipulate in any situation. In this sense, a box with a hole can be the camera that produces great images. It is more important to produce photographs that send out a meaningful message than photographs that are technically perfect.

RS: How did you get attached to photography initially? Were there any difficulties that you had to face because you were a woman?
YES: Not really. I always liked photography. I began shooting from the age of 13 with a camera from my father which he didn’t use anymore. During A levels in high school, we had to choose two majors and one I picked was art. Finally in a class while studying history, I saw a leaflet on a photography school I’ve heard of. It was the publicity for the contest you have to pass to enroll the school. I’ve always been attracted to photography and I entered the school in 2002. To sum it up bluntly, my becoming into photography was not something I could set a starting point to; but more like different occasions where I always offset for photography.

RS: Well, you’ve been fortunate. There are many young women photographers here who cannot pursue their interest because of the society. Parents, husbands, brothers and people often sneer at the thought of a woman behind the lens. How would you advise them to proceed?
YES: I don’t think it’s a question about here and what’s happening there. It’s about pursuing what you really want. In any society, it’s very natural for a woman to undergo many obstacles in order to live her dream. If you want something, you might go against the imaginations of people surrounding you. It is important that you remain satisfied with what you do, even if it means going against others’ expectations. You have to struggle in whatever field you are in and stand up for your beliefs. It is important you live your life and not the life others have imagined for you.

Transcription Credit: Zabir Hasan
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Published in Rising Stars on February 5, 2009

The opening of the 5th bi-annual Chobi Mela on 30th January 2009 was indeed an event to be remembered. As the curtains raised to commence the 3-week long series of expositions at 11 venues across the city, almost hundreds of visitors packed at the National Museum auditorium at the evening of the opening to celebrate a moment like no other. None would have been as wonderful an inaugural exhibition than that from the Nelson Mandela Foundation captioned “A Long Walk to Freedom: The Life and History of Nelson Mandela”.

But moving back to the ceremony itself, one would wonder what could have been so thrilling about speeches from photo maestros, activists, humanitarians and people from different places in the world. Well, for starters, I actually listened. Their words were sincere, honest, unadulterated.   They urged the listeners to be moved, to be felt, to be remembered later.

To react.

“Freedom” is not just another word one can play with. Its strength lies in its very articulation, a feeling that consumes us of who we are. Each one of us is a solider of freedom – in our worlds, in our cities, in our minds. Freedom is not only about wars, barb wires and Kalashnikovs; but rather a belief that encompasses our personae. We are in search of it wherever we go.

In whoever we become.

But the magic here lies in how photographers from different walks of life have portrayed freedom. It tells us how we all don’t see things the same way, how our definitions are undefined, how two people can feel the same way about the same things. As photographers, it is a responsibility with impact that can show us how others mark their freedom, how they perceive a word we loosely juggle at our fingertips.

Maybe that’s why Ricardo Rangel, the Lifetime Achievement Award winner of this year’s festival so aptly, so contently phrased:
“Photography is the best profession in the world”.

There is also a workshop tomorrow with Roland Poon on Digital Photography at GOETHE Institute, Dhaka from 10:30am. It’s open to all, so grab your seats while you still can.

I am thrilled and looking forward to the inauguration. You can watch videos and keep in track with where-to-do-what and where-to-see-what information at the Chobi Mela V official website. (It’s down on my blogroll).

Since I’m really nice, I’m making lives simpler. You can just click the following link and will be redirected to the event calender:
https://www.chobimela.org/events.php
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Eek, I have 7 interviews to write. This is going to be a long weekend! And definitely a weekend I’m looking forward to. I did 4 interviews today – one following another. I have 2 more scheduled tomorrow and will meet the Chinese photographers’ group on Saturday morning. The diversity is absolutely stunning.

I can’t wait to physically witness all the stuff I’ve been listening to and talking about over the past week!

Bangladesh 1971
Venue: DRIK Gallery 2
Opening at 3:30pm on 31st January 2009

Mahabub Alam Khan: “Refugee By Birth”
Venue: Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy

Md. Rashed Kibria Palash: “Play With Light
Venue: Goethe Institute

Momena Jalil: “Denied Freedom”
Venue: Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy

Partha Prathim Sadhu: “Devoid of Gentlemen”
Venue: Goethe Institute

Saiful Huq Omi: “Ships and Beyond”
Venue: Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy

Saikat Ranjan Bhadra: “A Tale of Unhindered People
Venue: Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy

Shumon Ahmed: “I”
Venue: Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy

Sowrav Das: Chain of Blood
Venue: Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy
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Munem Wasif: “Blood Splinter of Jute”
Date: 3rd February – 12th February 2009
Venue: Kolpona Boarding, Shakhari Bazar (Puran Dhaka)
Opening at 3:00pm on 3rd February 2009
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Shehab Uddin: “Amrao Manush”
Date: 11th February – 20th February 2009
Venue: Bangladesh Shilpakala Academy

SRD: Could you please give an outline of your project for Chobi Mela V for our readers.
TH: Well, the idea is very simple. When Shahidul mailed me about this year’s theme ‘Freedom’, I sat down thinking what my contribution could be to the festival. You see, I love to drive and it occurred to me that I could drive from Norway to Bangladesh and record what different people felt about freedom. I’ve been carrying my camera and leather book during my drive, visiting countries and meeting people. I stop them, and ask them to write in my book what their definition of freedom is. I take their photo, keep one and give the other one back to them. It’s a very simply process and when I reached Bangladesh, I had different people’s views on freedom and what it means to them.

SRD: That sounds very exciting, Tom; getting to travel to so many places, being able to meet so many people from such diverse backgrounds. Should I be jealous?
TH: Ah well, you are a romantic and you must be fantasizing the enjoyable bits of it. I am a romantic too, but when it comes to driving for hours, the hardship kicks in. You can drive for a day, another day, then another day and on day four; you’re tired, hungry and dirty. It’s becomes difficult, but in the end, it’s an experience. I remember getting lost for two days!

SRD: You say it was all an experience. Is there any particular incident that has struck you deeply and you would call it your most memorable?
TH: Not really. Everything is part of it. I had 600 kilometers of army escort in Pakistan because it was a safety procedure they had to follow for foreigners. I slept at a police station for the night. I did not feel very comfortable about that, but then again, I’m not complaining. What mattered most was the friendliness of the people I met. In Nepal, I met a family and stopped at their place for food. Later, I ended up staying there. You begin appreciating a kind gesture or a simply cup of tea when the hardship comes into the picture, more than you did before. In the end, it’s all an experience.

SRD: I was reading your blog and know you’ve been through two continents. You mentioned how language became a barrier at times. Could you please elaborate on that?
TH: Language was a barrier often. It brought difficulties in communicating with people when I was trying to explain my project or simply, when I was asking for directions. In India, there was a sign that read ‘Take U-turn from Bridge Overhead’. When I drove in that direction, there was no bridge and I was lost. Sometimes, when I found someone from the particular region who was better at English, I would tag them along with me so they could translate what I was trying to say to the local people. I even got letters translated to different languages and gave them to people. However, then again, I can’t be sure whether they could understand what it said.

It was also difficult to communicate with women. You can see me – I come all the way from Norway and I’m white. When I try to talk to you, you’re probably thinking whether you can trust me. There were times when I convinced a woman to write in my leather book and arranged a meeting for the following morning. She would go home, talk to her father and brothers and not get permission. The next morning, she would not show up. Thus, approaching women was definitely more complicated. I did not get a single woman to sign my book from Pakistan!

SRD: You’ve been to the previous Chobi Mela and visited Bangladesh several times. What do you feel about our country?
TH: Yes, although I started working here from 1996 as an assistant to Morten Krogvold; I was at Chobi Mela from 2002. I’ve come here five times, and honestly, it’s not the city that attracts me. It’s the people. Being me, a six feet seven inches, white man in Bangladesh, I get too much attention. This is hardship, but I keep coming back. More importantly, I don’t think I should be the one telling you about my feelings towards your country. You know it better than me. I am a foreigner and I can come here and share knowledge about things that you want to learn about, for example, photography or in your case, how to speak slowly. But if I give you my impression, it will be that of a white man. I’m not saying it’s wrong – I’m saying it’s just not the way it should be. You can show me your country. At this festival, 60 people are coming. Why? They want to meet Dhaka, and later, bring back its memories to their countries. You, being a native, can always teach the world better about Bangladesh than any of us can.

SRD: You’re right. It is up to us to show the world what we are made of. This brings me to the last question for this session. What would be your word of advice to the youngsters who’ll be reading this interview?
TH: Like I always say, keep it simple. An idea does not need to be sophisticated or complicated. In terms of photography, just take an idea and have fun. For example, you can take the color blue. Follow it for a week and photograph wherever you see it. At the end of the week, you have several interesting shots based on one particular color. You can do little things, like capturing how differently people hold the handles of their bags, the way they wear their socks and so on. The important thing is to enjoy what you’re doing and forget what others have to say about it.

In my project, I tried giving people a positive experience. When I met them, I talked to them, they wrote in my book, we exchanged photos and when I drive away, I hope they go back home to tell everyone how they met a tall Norwegian guy who’s searching for people’s interpretations of freedom. At the end of the day, I want them to have a good feeling. So, for youngsters, my words would be to keep the idea simple and have fun with it!
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Published in Rising Stars on January 29, 2009