[Leica] stealing souls

["Robert Appleby Personal" <rob@robertappleby.com>]

>>>
Date: Sat, 26 May 2001 14:16:18 -0400
From: Tim Carroll <tim@boomboom.com>
Subject: Re: [Leica] stealing souls
Message-ID: <a05010400b73577e7b354@[63.11.166.163]>
References: <200105260701.AAA29496@mejac.palo-alto.ca.us>

Hi,

I cannot help but respond to this discussion as I have had some experiences
in an Islamic country that countered some of my preconceptions of what the
rules for making photos in public might be.

A few years ago I was asked by a magazine to go to the island of Djerba, a
part of Tunisia, to photograph a "very traditional" wedding ceremony, an
event that lasted some 3 days and nights. Having lived in Paris for some
time, I was very aware that there is a particular sensitivity that one is
required to bring to photographing in an Islamic country and so I was very
cautious of my "big American guy with cameras" presence. I learned a lot as
the ceremonies unfolded.

The event took place over the entire village, the town dividing itself in
two, a men's half and a women's half. The groom and bride each occupied a
sort of a headquarter on a respective side but the villagers often met over
the days on the occasion of feasts, processions and music performances. My
assignment was to document the preparations of the bride and so I spent most
of my time on the women's side of town. Needless to say, I questioned the
wisdom of the journalist in selecting me, a male, for this job. To my
surprise, as a non-Moslem, though, I was accorded more access to the women
than I would have if I was a Moslem.

Anyway, despite the trepidations borne of my preconceptions, at no time did
anyone object to my photographing anything or anyone over the days I was
there. Certainly I made some people uncomfortable from time to time as I
fired away with a flash at one nighttime ceremony or another. Other, older
people moved away from me and my camera if they felt uncomfortable. However,
my access to anything associated with the wedding was not limited in any way
and I was encouraged to make as many pictures as I wanted.

As I recovered from the ceremonies in the city of Tunis, I looked up some
members of the Tunisian cinematographic community to do portraits to leave
with a Paris photo agency. Director Moncef Dhouib very graciously accorded
me an afternoon to show me around, drink tea and explain some of what I
experienced in Djerba.

My ignorance of his culture was admittedly almost total, but he was
effortlessly very patient with my questions. He explained that much of the
society is constructed of layers of intimacy and cleanliness, from the
municipal to the household. To paraphrase very roughly there are popular
places where strangers are received, hammering of metal is done, at the
outside of a city or house, and there are intimate places where only a king
or the husband and wife may go. Intervening layers, zones of town or rooms
in a house are reserved for particular people or activities. The image I
received was one of one of the beautiful mosaics famous of the orient, of
repeating, multicolored symmetries forming a dazzling whole. I thus
recognized my place in the order of a very structured and aesthetically
compelling society, a facet of a complex crystal, and the entirety of the
facets would never be entirely known to me.

Not having seen any of Moncef's films, I asked him what characterized his
cinematography. He explained to me that some elements of Tunisian cinema had
Europeanized sometime in the 1960's and so he, among others, eschewed the
depiction of "poor men's dreams" i.e. fantastic stories, jewels, singing,
beautiful people in beautiful costumes, spirits and visions etc. (I was
reminded here of the "women's films" of  Douglas Sirk starring Lana Turner!)
for a more realistic view of Tunisian life. He said he was known as the
first one to do a realistic "hammam" film, where he depicted a critical
instead of an idealized view of the bathhouse, a public yet intimate place.

I think poor people would dream of bejeweled elephants as any one of us
would be awed by the special effects and overblown soundtrack of the
contemporary western movies we watch for entertainment. A difference might
be that for some, folklore is not some cultural commodity one can choose to
buy or not but an inescapable part of life as they live it. I think most
people want to be understood and they want to tell their story, but I think
they would prefer to take someone who cares by the hand and show them than
have another poke around without bothering to understand the context of
their lives beyond the preconceptions they might bring. From my experience,
the depth of access to a subject expressed in a photo means more to me than
most of the technical considerations associated with the practice of
photography.

Certainly it is up to any individual to seek another or to avail themselves
to another. It is as much my responsibility to explain my motive for
photographing someone to them (which I must recognize they might not
implicitly understand) as it is their responsibility to avail themselves to
me.

Tim Carroll


>>>

Tim, thanks for your very reasoned response. I wish the LUG was as
interesting as this all the time!

I won't disagree with you - that would be unreasonable - that it's up to the
individual to  agree to access or not, and I have never photographed anyone
against their wishes, after all the aim of my photography is to depict
people's lives in a fair way.

But I have found there to be a prejudice against photography in islamic
culture. My experience is of India, which is where I am most interested in
snapping, although i did do some sporadic photography in Morocco many years
ago. That is a different story, however.

As an example, I'm working on a large, long-term project about the Bombay
slums, especially Dharavi, here my focus is - among other aspects - to
combat the typical depiction of these places as economic refugee camps. Part
of that is to show the role of education. Unfortunately, it has been my
experience that it is much more difficult to get permission to photograph in
schools in the Muslim community than in the hindu community, for instance.
I'm sure eventuially I'll overcome this barrier by simply being present long
enough and explaining myself often enough, but nonetheless. And typically,
the reason for not being allowed to photograph is that "it is against our
culture".

My point in my previous post was that, in my opinion, this aganst those very
people's own interests. Not that I see myself as any kind of saviour or
whatever, but simply because photo documentary is the main way we learn
about other cultures, through depictions of their everyday lives. To
maintain a formal mode to the making of images is against their own
interests. That is my feeling, which may well be better reasoned against
than for by more thoughtful people than myself, I'm sure. However, as a
photographer, I do think that portraying other realities is a win-win
situation, unless vested interests are at stake, which is often the case.

In this vein, I would suggest that the complex system of permissions and
accesses - the mosaic of access you described in your post, which was
extremely interesting and enlightening, I have to say - is very likely
controlled and enforced by the holders of power in that culture. It's true
that people internalise their oppression (you're unlikely to hear many
muslim women speaking out against the restrictions on their participation in
public life, for instance, they will typically say that they rule the roost
at home and that is their real power) but the rules of the game are usually
set by people who have something to lose by allowing free access - in the
sense of leaving it up to individuals to decide, obviously. Culture is
oppressive in all societies, no doubt. I have no wish to cast any first
stones here.

Anyway, that is a quick response to your post which I'm still digesting.

Rob.