Monthly Archive for January, 2012

Trisha Ziff and The Mexican Suitcase

January 30, 2012 in John’s Bailiwick
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Gerda Taro. Photo by Fred Stein (one sheet for the film).

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In May 2007, Mexican documentary filmmaker Trisha Ziff, at the behest of curators at the International Center of Photography in Manhattan, met another Mexican filmmaker, an elusive but affable man named Ben Tarver, at a coffee shop in Mexico City. Tarver brought with him contact sheets he had printed from three rolls of 35mm film negatives, images of known historic importance, but heretofore unseen and long believed to have been lost. They were part of a cache of more than 3,500 35mm. frames documenting the 1936-39 Spanish Civil War. The photos were believed to constitute a complete chronology of the three year struggle, a prelude to WWII, described by Herman Göring, commander of the German Luftwaffe, as a training exercise for the coming Nazi Blitzkrieg. The photographs were taken by three young photojournalists working on the cusp of what would be legendary careers. But all three were to die while covering this and other mid-century armed conflicts. Continue reading ‘Trisha Ziff and The Mexican Suitcase’

The New York Times: “The Year in Pictures”

January 16, 2012 in John’s Bailiwick
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Are we living in a golden age of photojournalism? Has the artful sophistication of today’s image makers so unbalanced the hoary “picture/ thousand word” equation that some of the news we read is the photo caption?

Multiple broadcasts, print and Internet platforms swamp us with a daily, even hourly, flood of ongoing and one-off news events from every corner of the earth. We are drowning in images: from the most august, traditional sources made by those dedicated and gifted photographers who are keenly aware of every nuance inside the frame, to ragged grab shots caught on the fly by a bystander’s iPhone, and more and more, those of social or political activists caught in the fray of an unfolding crisis. Where, in such a democratic cacophony of images, do we find some hierarchy of trust, truth and (god forbid) artistic insight? Is it even possible to do, or if so, how? In a world of seeming infinite visual mashups is the concept of photojournalism itself as obsolete as last year’s digital photo printer?

An examination of the thirteen pages of The New York Times “Sunday Review” section of December 25 offers dramatic color images of 2011 from the pages of the Times under the headings “Natural Disaster,” “Occupy Wall Street,” “Arab Spring,” “The World,” and “The Nation.” A double page centerfold is Tyler Hicks’ intense portrait of Libyan rebel fighters near Ras Lanuf reacting after a NATO airstrike against Qaddafi forces in March. It evokes the immersive immediacy of a “You Are There” French heroic salon painting of the 19th century. Delacroix and Gericault seem to loom just beyond the borders of the frame. Hicks’ chiaroscuro photo represents the highest level of an artist engaging the viewer with the drama of a singular moment frozen in the undifferentiated flux of time.

Libyan rebel fighters near Ras lanuf. Photo by Tyler Hicks.

Continue reading ‘The New York Times: “The Year in Pictures”’

Chely Wright: WISH ME AWAY

January 2, 2012 in John’s Bailiwick
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Thirty-five minutes into the documentary film of her life, Wish Me Away, singer Chely Wright tells Baptist minister C. Welton Gaddy of a moment of such personal despair that she put a loaded pistol into her mouth. It may be difficult to understand what could have precipitated an existential crisis this dire in a woman who has millions of fans. In her recent autobiography, Like Me, she describes the moment in clinical detail:

I go upstairs and locate a loaded 9-millimeter handgun. It is heavier than I remember. I say a prayer to God to forgive me and to understand why I can’t go on anymore like this. I beg God to realize that I will never be able to fit into the life that I’ve created, that I will never be accepted.

 I pick up the gun and put the end of it in my mouth. It’s cold. I hold it steady and get my right thumb on the trigger and prepare to pull it by pushing it outward.  I close my eyes . . . thumb still on the trigger. My mind is going a million miles an hour. I think of my family, my dogs, my friends, my fans, the sun, a kiss from Julia, and music. 

Then I hear a noise. It is the sound of my heart pounding in my head. Continue reading ‘Chely Wright: WISH ME AWAY’