In today’s image-saturated culture, the visual documentation of suffering around the world is more prevalent than ever. Yet instead of always deepening the knowledge or compassion of viewers, conflict photography can result in fatigue or even inspire apathy. Given this tension between the genre’s ostensible goals and its effects, what is the purpose behind taking and showing images of war and crisis? Conversations on Conflict Photography invites readers to think through these issues via conversations with award-winning photographers, as well as leading photo editors and key representatives of the major human rights and humanitarian organizations. Framed by critical-historical essays, these dialogues explore the complexities and ethical dilemmas of this line of work. The practitioners relate the struggles of their craft, from brushes with death on the frontlines to the battles for space, resources, and attention in our media-driven culture. Despite these obstacles, they remain true to a purpose, one that is palpable as they celebrate remarkable success from changing the life of a single individual to raising broad awareness about human rights issues. Opening with an insightful foreword by the renowned Sebastian Junger and richly illustrated with challenging, painful, and sometimes beautiful images, Conversations offers a uniquely rounded examination of the value of conflict photography in today’s world.
In my opinion the title of this important work does a disservice to its contents. Sure, Conversations on Conflict Photography touches on bang-bang, but there is far more discussion about how photojournalists & editors depict “others” along with significant discussions on stereotyping, respect, dignity, sensitivity, and a lot on the need for context. These are topics appropriate to any photojournalist, not just those in conflict and disaster areas. And as for PTSD, when you’ve seen people after they’ve gone through the windshields of cars or after firefighters have cut cars apart to retrieve bodies, you’re just as susceptible to an emotional toll as a photojournalist in Libya. This book has much value to workaday staff photojournalists.
One measure of how much a book touches me is how many quotations I take from it. In this case there were lots. The discussions are sophisticated and nuanced, and I picked up a gem from at least every interview. Andrea Bruce: “I often feel my job is to ‘trick’ people into paying attention to the world around them. Color, light, and composition are my tools to get people to really look at a photo, to ask questions, to want to know more.” (p. 21) Shahidul Alam: “Ultimately, I think living begins when your life has, in some way, made a difference.” (p. 68) Spencer Platt: “I don’t want to live in a la la land. I want to bear witness, with a compassionate eye.” (p. 95) Aidan Sullivan: “The way I would like to see photography presented is to have the photographers talk about what they saw and why they took what they took, because I would argue that there is no more powerful way. The photographers are there.
Lauren Walsh, professor at the New School, was motivated in part to undertake these discussions by a student in her class who remarked that he didn’t want to see images of starving people because it ruined his day. If we were all honest with ourselves, we’d recognize, as even Nina Berman admits, that we’re all that student at some times.
One final comment: of the few hundred of my book reviews here on Goodreads, you can count the number of five-star reviews on one hand. i>Conversations on Conflict Photography gets five stars.