In the summer of 2001, Magnum photographer Eli Reed traveled to a refugee camp to photograph children orphaned because of the Second Sudanese Civil War. To escape the civil war, these “lost boys,” as they are known, traveled hundreds of kilometers on foot from their home country to Ethiopia and back again and finally on to Kakuma, a town in northern Kenya where the camp is located.
The plight of these orphans is poignantly documented in From Lost Boys of Sudan to Hollywood, a series of photographs that span much of the photographer’s career. Reed’s work is shown along with Facets of India: People of Divine and American Graffiti Series by Sandra Chen Weinstein. The photos are on display as part of Shin Kong Mitsukoshi’s International Photography Exhibition (新光三越國際攝影聯展).
From Lost Boys of Sudan to Hollywood is a series of contrasts and demonstrates the broad range of humanity Reed has photographed. A politically minded photojournalist, Reed has covered conflicts in Central America and the Middle East, a coup in Haiti and documented homelessness and poverty in the US, which earned him a Pulitzer Prize nomination.
Reed’s images shot in Africa document a story of human survival in the face of tragedy that is largely free of pathos. Kenya Kakuma Refugee Camp, for example, shows the “lost boys” in tattered clothing standing in a circle on a dusty street preparing to participate in a game of gymnastics. The broad smiles on their faces and the raucous activity in the center of the composition belie the fact that these children are survivors of a civil war.
A second image, taken in Tanzania, shows three children in the background playing soccer on a dusty road. In the foreground two children, dressed in rags, stare intensely at the camera, their glares and the surrounding shantytown the only hints of their predicament.
Reed once remarked that his work with Hollywood directors such as Spike Lee and Robert Altman helps to finance his other, less lucrative, photojournalistic assignments. “I work on movies when I get broke,” he said.
Reed’s movie photos, for this reviewer, are of only moderate interest. Though the image of a contemplative Eminem sitting on a rusted metal crate surrounded by used tires or a lugubrious Odile Vanot sitting in front of a window are compositionally and technically arresting, their main attraction seems to stem from the fame of their subjects.
But there seems to something else going on here. The melancholy look on their faces suggests that happiness, especially in the context of the “lost boys,” is conditional on the internal workings of the individual.
Whereas From Lost Boys of Sudan to Hollywood shows the broad range of humanity, its stars and victims of history, Sandra Chen Weinstein’s Facets of India: People of Divine and American Graffiti Series document the religious life of India and everyday street scenes in the US.
The India photos should be viewed from up close and at a distance. Veiled captures a woman standing in a peacock blue doorway next to a gunmetal gray wall, her face partially obscured behind an apricot-colored veil. The photo’s composition draws the viewer in as we attempt to uncover the features behind the mask. Viewed from a distance, its strong color contrasts and vague outlines resemble an abstract painting.
From a few paces back, Pilgrims at Holy Ganges resembles a Modernist collage in its contingent assemblage of shape and color. Up close, we bear witness to crowds of people going through their ritualized purification on the banks of the Ganges.
The tension between these two states, the near and the far, the opaque and apparent, could be seen as a statement about travel itself: We undertake it as an attempt to glimpse another culture, the astute traveler understanding that only some of its mysteries will ever be revealed.
Some of these images border on cliche — the kind of picture postcard images that everyone takes when in India. Playing With Fire, for example, shows a fire breather, while Man of the Red Turban is a portrait of an elderly man wearing a turban the color of dried saffron.
The street scenes found in American Graffiti Series, whether at an amusement park or during a parade, are common renderings of American life and don’t have the appeal of the more exotic images from India.
But that’s the perspective of this reviewer. Coming from North America, they are of only moderate interest, while those from India are replete with mystery. Undoubtedly, if the exhibit were seen through Indian eyes, the American street series would take on a different kind of meaning.
And it is here that both exhibits stand out: In their own way, the photos — whether Africa’s destitute facing Hollywood royalty or a child Shiva across from San Francisco’s Gay Pride Parade — mediate the differences in the world’s culture, in all its rainbow of multiplicity.
Shin Kong Mitsukoshi’s International Photography Exhibition also features a number of emerging and established Taiwanese photographers. After it leaves Taipei, it will be shown from Oct. 8 to Oct. 24 at Shin Kong Mitsokoshi’s Kaohsiung Zuoying Store (高雄左營店11F文化館), from Oct. 27 to Nov. 10 at its Tainan Ximen Store (台南西門店6F C區文化館) and from Nov. 18 to Dec. 12 at its Taichung Zhonggang Store (台中中港店10F文化館). For complete details (in Chinese) go to culture.skm.com.tw/newevent.asp.
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