mercredi 21 avril 2010
Ouvriers migrants, Fresno, Californie.
“This photo was taken at about 4:30 in the morning in Fresno, California. The workers, most of them undocumented Oaxacan immigrants, are being transported on a farm labor bus to pick raisin grapes, one of the most grueling of all farm labor jobs. The bus journey through town took almost two hours: some tried to continue sleeping, but they would be awakened each time a new group of workers boarded. The man driving is their boss, a farm labor contractor. He paid them 21 cents per bucket and then deducted six dollars a day for the bus ride and another six dollars for lunch. Some workers would return home with less than 20 dollars after working a twelve hour day.”
Dorothy Height aux côtés de Martin Luther King qui s'apprête à prononcer "I have a Dream", 1963.
"If Ms. Height was less well known than her contemporaries in either the civil rights or women’s movement, it was perhaps because she was doubly marginalized, pushed offstage by women’s groups because of her race and by black groups because of her sex. Throughout her career, she responded quietly but firmly, working with a characteristic mix of limitless energy and steely gentility to ally the two movements in the fight for social justice."
Lire l'article complet ici dans The New York Times (20 avril).
samedi 17 avril 2010
Pears, Clinton, Connecticut, 1973
"I am fearful of elevators, loneliness, and the evening. It’s not the deep dark weightlessness of late night that perturbs and frightens me, it’s the transition from light (to be able to see) to darkness that troubles and unsettles me. It is within these hours where I become anxious and filled with despair.
This must be one of the reasons I am a photographer. I go out into the world, to breathe its notoriety and humor, to be able to see clearer, to look for understanding and purpose, to open up, and reach exuberantly and unforgivingly for the light.
But as the sun sets, and darkness begins to overwhelm the struggle, my life becomes unsettled.
This is in my pictures. It is my desperate attempt to stamp the world with good humor and grace. It is my attempt to fight fiercely, with “ruthless determination” against banality. To feel the world, to find its purpose, to understand its laws, to expose its beauty and grace, for me, lies within the hours of the day. As I work within the conflicts of the rebellious and uncontrollable light of day, I wait for the repercussions of the night, like a naughty child who waits for his father to return home in the evening."
Son portfolio ici
"I am mainly concerned with things such as the lightfall on a white skin, bruises on an arm, hands which disfigure in water, and starting goose-pimples in frosty weather. Only then you see the texture of the skin so beautifully. It is exciting to see what happens when you put a leg over a horizontal bar or when you hang a person's hair in a bush. Besides this I pay a lot of attention to the right position, to the mise-en-scene, to matching clothes as well as their colour, to the gaze and posture of the model. I arrange everything, to the smallest detail, such as the nail polish on their fingers."
D'autres photos ici
dimanche 11 avril 2010
"South Korean photographer Kyungwoo Chun has created multiple bodies of work wherein the subjects sit for his camera for minutes, hours or days at a time, depending on the goal of the specific project. In one of his most well-known projects, One Hour Portrait, Chun leaves the exposure time of at least one hour for his subjects, but remains in the room with them, believing that in the longer duration of this photographic event, a certain kind of empathy is arrived at between himself and the photographed subject that will be rendered in the final print of this prolonged encounter. This process of photography is, according to Chun, equal to an exchange of souls. Chun firmly believes that his images can only be created through this dialogue and exchange between himself and the subject." La suite sur Hey Hot Shot
samedi 10 avril 2010
"From my point of view it is essential that photography itself - the making of images, the thinking about images and the viewing of images - is a basic need for the photographer. If you deal intensively with your own images, you quickly realize what is good and what is not going to stand up. A good image has to speak for itself and doesn’t need an explanation. If you still have the feeling that you have to enrich or support your own work with comments or explanations, this is a clear sign that the image does not speak for itself and isn’t ready yet. A good image burns into your mind so that even after you have seen many others, you don’t forget it, and even if you do, you would recognize it again immediately." (via Two Way Lens)
dimanche 4 avril 2010
A l'occasion des 90 ans de Ravi Shankar, le 7 avril, nuit exceptionnelle (de 1h à 7h) sur France Musique. Voir le documentaire sur la master class donnée par Ravi Shankar à la salle Pleyel en 2008. "Entouré de cinq musiciens, le grand maitre du sitar a choisi d'expliquer en musique et en mots la puissance spirituelle de la musique indienne. Moment rare, le public est comme envoûté - Ravi Shankar sourit, parle au public de sa vie entièrement dévouée à la musique. À ses côtés, sa fille, elle aussi grande sitariste, veille jalousement sur son père. Un concert unique en forme de transmission et de legs."
vendredi 2 avril 2010
jeudi 1 avril 2010
"Using the traditional wet plate collodion process, I am working in collaboration with the sitter as exposures range from 30 seconds to 2 minutes. It is in that collaboration that I find the power of this process, as if the commitment of time required of the sitter is present in the final image." Lire la suite sur Lens Culture
"My work then took an altogether paradoxical path: the more blurred the subjects of these portraits, the more they looked as if they were on the verge of dissolving, fading away, or disappearing — that is when their presence really asserted itself."
Lire la suite sur Lens Culture
He says he waits to see an “aura” around a stranger that signals “take my picture,” and then he approaches his subject to ask permission. The vermillion colored walls on the outside of the temple form the neutral background for each portrait. Kikai holds his Hasselblad in his hands, and engages the stranger in small talk while he makes some exposures. In less than 15 minutes, the portrait session is over, and the person has disappeared into the crowd of tourists again. Kikai makes some notes from their brief conversational exchange, and these notes often become the wry captions that enrich each photo. Lire la suite sur Lens culture. Voir des extraits de son livre Asakusa Portraits ici.