When I posted Emerging Photog, I didn't figure it would create this incredible dialogue about war and peace and the role of the image maker in the mix. Harikrishna, an alumnus of IIT-Madras and now a photojournalism student at the University of Texas, Austin (everyone, APPLAUSE) has had some interesting things to say. But they lie buried in the comments section. Well, no more. Here is his last comment in its entirety:

I have been seriously thinking and debating about the effect of war on photographers particularly after I saw the film War Photographer on James Nachtwey. My conclusions about him as a person came after I spoke to people who have interacted with him. All of them deeply admire his courage, but they are equally saddened by how the war adrenaline addiction has sapped the life out of him. He hopes to change the world with his photographs, but sadly things have only gone worse in the world since he has been making pictures. There seems to be no hope in almost all his pictures. What we see is just hopelessness and emptiness. Can they inspire us for a better world? I am yet to meet someone who would not be utterly dejected after seeing his book Inferno. There seems to be no hope in the world of James Nachtwey. Only desolation and destruction. Can such a tunnel vision change our hearts to make peace with each other? I dont know. This has lead to a lot of soul searching in my own personal life. Can we separate our work and our life? Would Nachtwey's vision of the world be same if he had a personal life where he enjoy simple pleasures? I dont mean to pass any judgements about his personal life, but the issue I am interested in is the Cause and Effect.

Somehow Larry Towell‘s war photographs comes to my mind. I read his pictures differently. They touch me more than some graphic war pictures made under herioc circumstances. There is no heroism or adreneline rush in Larry Towell's. His pictures are quiet. They make me reflect on the situation. Nachtwey's pictures make me think about the photographer. I am caught in the photographic composition. The light and everything else. Everything except the meaning.

Each image maker has her/his own approach to the subject at hand. Bearing witness to the horrors of war or the pleasures of life is a gift. The resulting images, which can be pedantic, need not be so all the time. Don't the images which hit us over the head and instruct also desensitize us in the long run? “Yet another image of a starving child,” we say. The images may have been shot by Nachtwey, Eugene Richards or Mary Ellen Mark. That doesn't matter. As Harikrishna laments, isn't it time we focused on our subjects rather than ourselves? I am curious how you bring empathy to what you do and with those you work – no, you don't have to be a photographer to answer that question.

In asking you to do this, I am reminded of Robert Cole's book – The Call Of Service. Coles, a Harvard university professor and psychiatrist who started the moribund DoubleTake magazine is a wonderful teacher. When I lived in Boston, I snuck into one of his sessions and was astounded by the breadth his knowledge. The book, which “examines the idealistic motives of people who engage in volunteer work, community service or civil rights activism,” is a fascinating read and I would recommend it wholeheartedly.

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Via Divya

Ever drawn as a kid with felt pens? I didn't have those pens, only the inky ball point pens. But this guy has transfomred his childhood drawings into something beautiful and really lively.

The November rains prickled the humid air. The aroma of sand, recently kissed by a downpour, wafted through Rita Saldanha's delicately decorated apartment. “My son Ajit is flying in from Singapore,” beamed Mrs. Saldanha. Indeed a fourth place setting graced the dinner table. Not too long after we sat down to eat lunch, the door bell clanged.

Ajit and I met almost 20 years ago. When he walked in partially soaked and furiously wiping his brow with a handkerchief, I had to admit to myself that I couldn't recognize him at all. My last memory of him, I offered, was when Arun, his younger brother, invited me and a gaggle of pre-teens to their Kilpauk Garden Colony home for a party. Ajit rode away on a motobike and was the subject of much speculation.

The drizzle outside continued unabated. As a plate of macaroons made its way around the table, Ajit loudly lamented the inefficiencies at the airport. “Shit, I can't believe how difficult they make it for international passengers to transfer to the domestic terminal.” But when he actually saw humor in it, and we had all had a good laugh the ice was broken.

I was intrigued by what he had been up to all these years. What I had missed was Ajit's penchant for writing. Not as a novelist or a journalist, but as a columnist for Mid Day, a newspaper out of Mumbai.

“Whether you like it or not, when you are saddled with the tag of a humour writer, then you can't deviate from it by an iota.”

Out now is a collection of these columns in a book called Hung By My Family Tree. Clutching an advance copy of the book in one hand and a cigarette in the other, Ajit, with some justified pride announced the book would be published by the end of the year. I convinced him to send me a couple of copies. I have been reading it and I promise you, your belly will ache from laughter. While Mangloreans, or Mangies, bear the special brunt of his pen (he is one himself), in reality no one is spared. His book readings have garnered him a loyal following and the reviews have been glowing.

Aakar Patel, the editor of Mid Day says this about Ajit:

Ajit Saldanha is Henry Mencken without the politics and the crime. His prose is aimed unerringly at the maudlin and the ridiculous, which he picks up and inspects with the gravity of a social scientist. He derives much joy from his experiences and has the rare ability to telegraph that joy to his audience.

Underlying the jokes and the irreverent approach to his subjects, it's Ajit's social commentary that makes this book such a pleasure to read. Curious how Indian culture has evolved over the last twenty years? Read the book. Written entirely in jest, at the very crux of his writing is this hope – that we all learn to laugh at ourselves. Priced modestly at Rs. 395, this book is published by IndTeleSoft and is only available in India.

And so, if I were to change one thing, it would be to make the book available through Amazon.com, or some other international distribution outlet. I know you would want to get your hands on a copy.

HUNG BY MY FAMILY TREE by Ajit Saldanha

PRATEEK SWAIKA
The Asian Age
10 Jan 2004

There's trying-but-still-far-from-it funny, there's almost funny, and then there's Ajit Saldanha's Hung by My Family Tree. Recently launched at the Intercontinental Grand by Salman Khursheed, Saldanha's debut collection of
short stories guarantees a laugh. Consistently cocky, perpetually prurient and witty without exception, Hung by My Family Tree offers its slant on topics as dissimilar (or alike) as ‘Catching Crabs' and ‘Penis Dialogues'.
Almost as an apology, Saldanha says, “Initially, I told myself that I wouldn't write about men trying to cook or sexist stuff and painful pieces about my dog or my kid. But I suppose sometimes I have broken my own rules!”
And how does he manage to get new things to write about? “During the week, I sometimes try out the spine of the column on some people and then, if it provokes a response, I go with it. Whether you like it or not, when you are saddled with the tag of a humour writer, then you can't deviate from it by an iota,” he adds.

As an extensive elaboration of his columns that have previously appeared in The Midday , the one hundred and twenty short stories written by Saldanha span over almost 650 sprightly pages. And with Indian satire generally
restricted to the comic pages, Hung by My Family Tree promises to be a hit amongst Non-Resident Indians (or as Saldanha cocks his snook – Newly Returned Indians). However, the author's needle sharp observations and
penetrating insights into the antics of the ‘jet-set lot', and uncannily accurate phonetic imitations of Italian, Thai, and ‘southi' accents (“prevalent to those with a flavour of coconut oil and rolled bowel movements”) alike, can make quite a disconcerting read, for before one realises it, one may just come across their own reflection in Saldanha's intricate mirror.

When asked if writing such lampooning stories had inevitably antagonised anybody, Saldanha says, “I'd like to think of myself as an equal opportunity offender! Experiences, especially in a semi-anecdotal column, can never be considered sacrosanct. If a novelist is allowed free reign to experience life, to internalise and fictionalise it, and then later reproduce it for print, by the same yardstick, even columnists should be allowed to do so.
More so, if one writes a nostalgia slash (sic) whimsy column – everything becomes fair game. I myself have no problem myself if people say “oh you Mangies are like this…” That said, Saldanha is however quick to
acknowledge the hesitation of editors who believe that Indians, while “having many sacred cows and way too many fundoos” just haven't learnt to laugh at themselves yet.

As to the raison d'être for the book: “Well, it was in response to multiple requests from readers asking if there was a central source where they could find all my columns,” Saldanha says. “In fact the book has already become so popular”, he adds,” that its often read out as a party piece.” The novel apart, Saldanha has also done the rounds of films and theatre, the last being Popcorn (he is a food critic of mixed repute, travel writer, and an
actor rolled into one). Starting off initially with a granite business, (the experiences of which are incidentally narrated in great mirth by his Italian friend ‘Valerio' in the book), Saldanha considers himself lucky to have
converted his passion into a profession. Now he does things he enjoys: event management and writing. And if the appreciation expressed by the discerning cognoscenti at the launch is any guage of Saldanha's talent, Hung by My Family Tree is bound to be a success for its laughs galore.

This was originally posted on the NPPA-L by Paul Guillory, a photojournalist turned Copy editor at The Advocate, in Baton Rouge, Louisiana:

I posted a note here earlier this week encouraging a photographer to defect to the word side as a way of helping teach editors about picture usage. And it set me thinking about an occasionally visited topic on the list: respect.

We often complain that we photographers are not taken seriously in the newsroom. Would you consider for a moment that we create a persona that makes it easy for us not to be taken seriously?

Here are a few suggestions (from a former photographer who now gets to watch the photographers from the other side of the room):

Be careful about what you put on paper. You are actually being evaluated on the cutlines, memos, evaluations, purchase requests, etc., that you write. So buy a dictionary and use the spell checker. Find a stylebook. Let a copy editor read your memos before you submit them. Write an occasional story to
prove that you are a “well-rounded” journalist. (Your writing is a BIG deal. The word people complain about bad cutlines, poor grammar, misspelled names and shady fact checking. The more polished your writing is, the more respect you are granted.)

Wear the uniform. Instead of jeans and hiking boots, change into pressed slacks and a long-sleeve shirt before the news meeting. Keep a tie and jacket on hand for when you will be in front of the publisher or mayor.

Modulate your voice. Photographers love to bitch. But a well-reasoned, quietly delivered argument goes much further.

Take a copy editor, city editor or features editor to lunch. And DON'T talk about newspapers or photography. Get to know these people. Let them see you as a person. Talk about your kids, hunting, the cabinets you built for the kitchen. Save any attempts to “educate” for the fifth, eighth or 10th
luncheon.

Be ahead of the game. Read the paper and read the wire budgets early in the day. Know what's going on in the world so you can participate in newsroom and budget meeting discussions.

Be interested and involved in the process, but don't micromanage. (This suggestion comes from a news editor friend of mine.) Attend the planning meetings and have your picture ideas ready. Propose stories. If an assignment is crap, be honest about it; BUT be ready to suggest something better. Offer alternatives at all stages of the process. (One sports editor says he wants more than one picture.) And make deadline.

Apologize when you're wrong. Don't try to explain bad decisions. Just say “I'm sorry, I screwed up,” and leave it at that.

Good luck,
Paul Guillory

Those of you who have decided to subscribe (thank you!), have you noticed something different in your emails from TIFFINBOX? I hope so. Thanks to Anand, all the way in my hometown Chennai, India, I finally figured out how to include the TITLES of my blog posts in the emails you receive. You may also see a truncated version of the post, inviting you to click the link and read or see more. If you are having problems with this service, please let me know. Thanks again for your interest. As always, your suggestions are welcome.

Via Sheila Krishnan, a photojournalist:

I recently bought the book Baghdad Blues by David Turnley from Barnes and Noble, and think its awesome. I just think he's a great photographer and I got the opportunity to meet him at MSU a couple years ago, and he was also a real down-to-earth guy. About the book, he includes personal journals of his experiences in Baghdad along with the images, and thats one of my favorite parts. For young photojournalists who are just starting like myself, learning about how you live and how you shoot in different environments (like war) is really interesting.

Also, here are two images Sheila made at her last internship:

This from Marianne Pearl‘s essay, The reporter they left behind, at Salon.com.

After the first three sleepless nights after Danny had been kidnapped, there was no sense of time in our house and only one reality, at least for Captain. His only aim was to save Danny, because I was there, because I was pregnant, because Danny was innocent, because Captain was a Muslim and a patriot who felt deeply ashamed by those who kept Danny in captivity. When it was learned that Danny had died, it was Captain who had to tell me. Because he said so, I knew it was true, the same way I knew what he said next will be true. It was another pledge: “I will pursue those who did this and bring them to justice even if it is going to take a lifetime, my lifetime.”

I only wish others who promised their resolve at that time — including Danny's employers at the Wall Street Journal — had kept their promises, too.

Ouch!

Pablo Bartholomew, a leading photojournalist based in India was commissioned by the Asian Cultural Council to document the Indian Emigre. While the photographs are beautifully crafted, it's unusual to find a photojournalist conducing an interview with his subjects and publishing it. The interviews with Mr. and Mrs. Ohri on pages 4 and 5 are a must-read. It reminded me of Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, a collaborative book by the writer James Agee and the Depression-era documentarian Walker Evans. Goes to show that photojournalists can be both photographers and journalists. Thanks Pablo for leading by example.

The International Center of Photography in New York City is one of my favorite places to visit. It's a teaching institution of great repute and the exhibits and lectures there are top-notch. If you are ever in the city, I urge you to check out both their locations. Invariably you will be inspired by the work you see and the people you meet there.

United Press International reports that the ICP, as it is commonly referred to, is having an exhibition that deals with the issue of photography “creating and perpetuating racial stereotypes.”

“The show is wide-ranging, drawing on social documentary, photojournalism, ethnographic and scientific photography, straight portraiture and even erotica. It includes many of the big names in American photography — Edward Steichen, Dorothea Lange, Ansel Adams, Man Ray, Edward Weston, Walker Evans, and Margaret Bourke-White — as well as such contemporary camera artists as Cindy Sherman, Andres Serrano, Glenn Ligon, Nancy Burson and Nikki S. Lee.”

The show is on now through February 29, after which it will travel to other states in the US.

Google has impressed us all so much that our first inkling to find information about anything or anybody is to “google” it or them. I am not entirely sure that's proper use of a trademarked brand name (hey, my mother still says – “Go, xerox copy the passport,” believing that the word Xerox equals everything involving the act of photocopying).

Today I came across Google Guide: Interactive Tutorial Making Search Even Easier.

“Although this tutorial is for people new to Google, it contains information of interest to those who have experience with Google or another search engine. Unless you're familiar with all of Google's features, you'll learn something by taking this tutorial.”

The tutorial and web site by Nancy Blachman is an acceptable ruse to market a book she co-authored with Google engineers Fritz Schneider and Eric Fredricksen called How to do Everything with Google.