Habesha Art Gallery exhibited “A Light in a Shadow,” which consists of two photo essays collaboratively produced by five working photojournalists. The first essay on Metahara, a transport hub between Addis Ababa and Djibouti, shows the risk factors contributing to the high rate of HIV infection in the area. The second essay on Yaheweh Nesi Income Generating Project, an association of women living with HIV, shows the proactive response to the AIDS epidemic as a model for positive living.

Newspaper editors and representatives from the Ministry of Health were wowed by the exhibition. They did not realize such talent could to be found in Addis Ababa or that visual media could act as such a powerful tool for reporting. This reaction is similar to the reaction I saw to the Ethiopian entries to the Democracy Video Challenge. There is plenty of local talent to produce salient visual media that speaks to pressing local issues. What is lacking is support in terms of education, funding and distribution outlets. Internews is among the organizations that eagerly offers local media makers the tools needed to realize their potential and give back to their communities.

The photo essays exhibited in “A Light in a Shadow” can be viewed in full in the exhibition catalog below. View the catalog in fullscreen mode for full impact. See also coverage of the exhibition on Internews’ website.

A Talent No One Knew We Had is a collection of stories from Sudden Flowers Productions on their contribution to the 9th anniversary of Hope For Children, the community organization many of them call home.

While most of Sudden Flowers’ members have experience using computers for word processing and video editing, few of them have any experience using the internet. We played interactive fiction, browsed interactive photography projects and edited Wikipedia entries. After each session of playing/looking/editing, we would discuss what the messages of the piece were and how the format helped conveyed those messages. They were clearly catching on when Adane observed that, “The story doesn’t happen on its own. You make the story by playing it.”

I taught them basic HTML and CSS. They were memorized by the process of writing a few lines of text code and seeing how the browser interpreted it into visuals and interactive elements (very much as I was when I first started learning this stuff!). When it came time to actually make something, I chose to build on their existing strength in telling their own personal stories developed through years of producing autobiographical films. They had recently put a lot of work into the 9th anniversary celebration of Hope for Children, the community organization/orphanage that they are beneficiaries of. I invited them to write stories about that experience, and we designed a website that showcases those stories.

To produce the piece, I did most of the coding myself, but I updated the group on my progress periodically and explained how everything was working. They pestered me incessantly to get the project done. At first this pestering was surprising. Usually I was the one pestering them (to get to meetings on time, to think critically, to make stuff). I realized that they were just super excited to have the site go live. They are very proud to have the work online for the world to see.

I hope to get an Amharic version of the site up so that the site can be enjoyed by the small but growing Amharic speaking community online.

We are using Kickstarter.com as a fundraising platform. Kickstarter gives people and organizations an easy way to leverage their own network to finance creative projects. Projects only receive funding if the fundraising goal is reached. Project creators must give rewards to donors depending on how much money is pledge and keep donors updated on progress, encouraging a close relationship with the projects they have funded.

There have been some generous donors to Sudden Flowers’ film after the first few days that the project was posted.  If you want to kick in, any small donation is very much welcome and you’ll get rewards and updates on the film’s progress from Sudden Flowers Productions.  The widget above updates with the current progress of fundraising.  Click on the widget to go to the Kickstarter page, get more information and make a pledge!

Sex work is prevalent and highly visible in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia’s capital. So, it was not hard to guess why a quiet residential street near my home there was consistently littered with used condoms. At night, the dark, winding road offered a reasonably safe location for transactions. This doesn’t explain why I decided to photograph the condoms, though.

Read the rest of the artist statement and see the full set of photos on my portfolio site.  If you have an idea for a better title of the essay, I’d love to hear your suggestions.
Update June 14, 2010: Thanks Jessica Berta for title suggestions.

Throughout my time here, people have urged me to work with the local newspapers to improve their photographic coverage. It wasn’t hard to see why. The newspapers seems to be filled with ambiguous shots of men in suits. This constituted some 80% of the photographs published. The rest of the pictures were predominantly stock images of tourist sights and the occasional photo of an emaciated child. Talk about a limited visual vocabulary.

It was great to partner with Internews as the team there is smart and well versed in the challenges of working with Ethiopian news organizations. Since Internews Ethiopia’s focus is on health reporting and HIV/AIDS, I spent a lot of time in the workshop stressing issues of sigma and informed consent. The stigma surrounding HIV/AIDS in Ethiopia is staggering. Reporting on these issues should strive to ameliorate the suffering of affected people, and it takes time and patience to understand what kinds of pictures will do this. Photographs have an amazing power to strengthen the emotional bond between people, but in order to do that photos must convey insight and intimacy. No wonder that so many HIV+ people are reluctant to be reveal themselves to the camera as it could easily make them vulnerable to the negative impact of HIV/AIDS stigma.

A large component of the workshop entailed mentored field trips.  It was a lot of work on Internews’ part to find organizations willing to let the photojournalists report on them. So you can imagine how disconcerting it was when, after discussing issues of consent and stigma for a few days in a classroom setting and seeing Internews staff spend hours on the phone to secure access to locations, the photographers rushed in to get pictures as soon as we arrived. They failed to introduce themselves, explain what they were up to or ask if the people consented to having their photographs taken. This is probably one of many bad habits they’ve learned working at newspapers. (“Get the picture fast, and get back to the office to file!”)  Foregrounding consent and visual storytelling constituted a complete 180 from the way these photographers work on a daily basis.  I insisted that everyone slow down and focus on the story they came to tell, that of “positive living” with HIV/AIDS. They moved away from the habits they had formed at work, and many fruitful conversations between the photographers and the members of the organization ensued. The photographers got good information about the members and found out who was willing to be photographed and who wasn’t.

The lesson was clearly sinking in by the second day of field trips when we ran into problems with one of the locations. It was a workplace where employees had a high risk of contracting HIV since they were far from home, worked in close confines with members of the opposite sex, earned low wages and had little or no formal education. The owner of the establishment gave us permission to photograph under the condition that we did not mention HIV/AIDS while we were there. No talk about risk, intervention or people’s status. This put us in a bind. Internews is producing an exhibition of the photographs from the workshop. Photographs of the workers would be published to tell the story of risk factors for contracting HIV/AIDS. We had no way of discussing with the subjects the context in which  photographs of them would be used, so it was impossible to get their informed consent. Then again, our choices of location were extremely limited. Of the many establishments and organizations asked, few were willing to let us photograph there. I opened the question up to the workshop participants to let them decide if we would like to take this opportunity given the limitations or look for another place to photograph. After a brief discussion, they unanimously agreed that this was not a good scenario and that we should look for other options. Luckily, the other option we did find turned out to be really wonderful.

Participants in the Internews Ethiopia Photojournalism Workshop. From left: Antenah Hailu (Photographer, Addis Adamas), Erfrem Taye (Instructor/Translator, Internews), Solomon Bogale (Photographer, Capital), Ida C. Benedetto (Instructor), Tamrat Getachew (Photographer, The Reporter), Gehet Wondimu (Photogrpaher, Addis Lisan) Mulugeta Ayene (Photographer, freelance).

The experience got me thinking a lot about the nature of informed consent. The photojournalists in the workshop initially understood consent as something they had to get from their subjects. This is a sentiment common among photojournalists regardless of where they are from or where they are working. It seems to me that a great opportunity is lost here, especially when working with vulnerable populations. Informed consent requires as much giving on the photographer’s part as it does on the subject’s. The result is an agreement. In arriving at that agreement of what kinds of photographs will create the most understanding and empathy without endangering the subjects, the photographer has to give up their authority over the photograph. Okay, fine, we’ve crossed the (exceedingly blurry and ever gray) line between photojournalism and documentary photography. A five-day workshop over the course of two weeks probably isn’t enough time to learn how to cross that line gracefully. It was enough time to see a remarkable change of attitude among the local photojournalists about what photographs can do and the kind of relationships between subject and photographs needed to realize these possibilities. I hope the newspaper editors can make it to the exhibition in June so consideration of these issues can spread to the rest of their organizations.

The Silk Museum is now home to The Georgian Textile Group, founded by Nino Kipshidze in 1993. This group of (mostly?) women holds exhibitions in the capital on traditional and new Georgian textile practices and also administers workshops in the countryside to encourage the continued practice of traditional household textile production. In my brief visit to the museum, I could see that these women revel in their craft and love the museum dearly. I can’t wait to go back.

Tbilisi, Georgia

I had no idea what to expect in Georgia. I was recommended for the festival because my Parsons thesis, Lilliput: A Photographic Travelogue, is pertinent to the festival theme. Four Parsons alumni and Academic Dean Lydia Matthews were treated to a week of sightseeing at various historic locations around Tbilisi, a performance of traditional dance and song, amazing food and wine, and an opportunity to see what Georgian art and design students are up to.

View of the Georgian countryside from The Church of the Holy Cross.

Interior of a historic church that I failed to note the name of.

Persian style hall that is part of the Art Academy, closed until funds can be secured for renovation.

Video still from a traditional dance performance.

For most of the festival participants, “life beyond tourism” meant cultural preservation. Research papers from Georgian academics wavered between enthusiasm for the unrealized tourism potential of Georgia’s cultural heritage and concern for the preservation of this heritage should tourism take off. Georgia does not have a robust tourism industry, but most of the academics and artist who spoke demonstrated a keen desired for the economic and cultural stimulus that tourism can bring.

The student work at the festival was architecture and animation heavy. Architecture projects ranged from proposed museums to elaborate renderings of the mathematical nature of Georgian churches. Animation work retold classic stories, like Rashomon or The Metamorphosis, or re-imagined major works from art history.

Among those who could not attend the festival in person thanks to the volcanic ash was the main sponsor, Paolo Del Bianco of the Florence Romualdo Del Bianco Foundation, so he Skyped in. I was totally charmed by the spectacle of Mr. Del Bianco greeting the festival attendees with a double-handed wave as the Georgians waved back. Even though the two-way feed was live and projected large across the wall, a sense of distance was palpable in the gestures as well as the affectionate formality of the conversation. Skype was frequently referred to as an “amazing new technology.”

The Italians and the Georgians wave to each other over Skype.

Coming from Parsons, it was surprising for me to see how much the Georgian students and their professors were reaching into the past for inspiration. Parsons’ emphasis on innovation can leave students with little or no grounding in historical context. This does not seem to be a problem for students of the Art Academy of Tbilisi who frequently made use of local millennium old precedents when creating their work.

Viewing their work, I struggled to glean what is happening in Georgia now and how creative design practices are addressing these circumstances. Maybe this is more a concern of the contemporary art scene in Tbilisi rather than that of the Academy. On this front, I felt like those of us from Parsons had something to offer. While our projects might not be as squarely grounded in historical precedents as the work of the Georgian students, we consistently made an effort to use knowledge of the past to provide innovations for the present.

Christopher Nesbit, BFA Photography 2008, presented his thesis work of drawings of now-destroyed New York City buildings over contemporary photographs of where the buildings once stood, animating familiar New York City scenes with ghostly views of what once stood there.

Georgeana Ortiz, BFA Fashion Design 2009, presented her thesis collection of a sustainable clothing line and the later research this project inspired. Realizing that sustainability goes beyond materials used, Georgeana is developing a resource for sustainable business practices for New York City’s Garment District.

Duncan Tonatiuh, BFA Integrated Design Studies 2008, presented Journey of a Mixteco, a graphic novel about Sergio, a Mexican immigrant to New York City, drawn in the style of Mixteca art, the art created by Sergio’s ancestors. This project lead to the publication of Duncan’s first book, Dear Primo, A Letter to My Cousin.

I presented Liliput: A Photographic Travelogue, where to I use pre-digital precedents for storytelling about travel, namely the Baroque Cabinet of Curiosities, to innovate on visual storytelling with digital media and reproduce the comforting disorientation of travel in an interactive travel narrative.

Both Parsons The New School for Design and The Art Academy of Tbilisi stand to gain much from further collaboration and exchange given each school’s different strengths and methods.

Parsons Academic Dean Lydia Matthews (green jacket) speaking at the Tbilisi State Academy of Art.

Parsons Academic Dean Lydia Matthews has visit Georgia 6 times, and it was her passion for the place the brought us there. I hope that more Parsons students and alumni will be able learn from Georgia’s art and design scene thanks to her efforts as a liaison.

Many thanks to the Tbilisi State Academy of Art for sponsoring Parsons alumni to attend, and thanks especially to the Dean of the Faculty of Art Media, Nana Iashvili, for the superhuman effort in organizing the festival.

Photojournalism is changing, propelled by newsroom budget cuts, multimedia possibilities, and the ubiquity of digital images. In Visual Journalism, photojournalists write about emerging digital business strategies and their efforts to expand the reach of their photographs online and on gallery walls.

In college, I left a photography program for a design and technology program. The photo curriculum was clearly outdated, and too few people were doing anything about it.  The Nieman Report on Visual Journalism is an inspirational reminder that many photographers, editors, and critics are seriously engaging with digital media and all the changes that digital is bringing to media in general. In the articles, they propose strategies and take their colleagues to task for the missed opportunities.

Here are some highlights:

Failing to Harness the Web’s Visual Promise by Fred Ritchin

That journalism failed to move beyond the limited repurposing of the print and broadcast media and into the welcoming territory I wrote about—into places with an expanded sense of possibility—is beyond dispute. In part, this is because dissimilarities between digital and analog media weren’t taken seriously. Instead, repeatedly and almost universally we attempted to put what we’d previously done onto a screen-based template while marveling at the new efficiencies of the digital and simultaneously giving away our work for free. If this were Greek mythology, we—the know-it-alls in the journalism community—would be portrayed as having been devoured by a seductively ephemeral Web, not realizing it was much more than simply a substitute for “dead trees.”

What Crisis? by Stephen Mayes

There is talk about a crisis in journalism, which generally takes the form of angst-ridden journalists, editors and news folk in general asking, “How do we maintain the commercial status quo without which journalism as we know it will be gone?” The question is sincere and extends beyond the fear of losing jobs; there is a genuine concern that the investigative and informative roles of the news media will be lost with a high cost to the civic health of our society.

Interestingly, it’s not a question that I have heard asked by many consumers of news who are finding all the information they want in the online environment—and more. For those of us in journalism, we’re asking it way too late, since a crisis of news communication has been with us for many years, if not decades. From where I sit—as director of VII Photo Agency, a small agency founded in 2001 by leading photojournalists—this digital shakedown offers an opportunity to correct some of the deep problems that have bedeviled the business of print journalism—and gone unchallenged—for too long.

Photojournalism in the New Media Economy by David Campbell

The successful visual journalist in the new media economy is going to be someone who embraces the logic of the Web’s ecology. This will mean using the ease of publication and circulation to construct and connect with a community of interest around their projects and practice. Photographers who understand they are publishers as well as producers, for whom engaging a loyal community is more valuable than chasing a mass audience, will be in a powerful position. They will be the ones who use social media in combination with traditional tools to activate partnerships with other interested parties to fund their stories, host their stories, circulate their stories, and engage with their stories.

A New Focus: Adjusting to Viewers’ Increasing Sophistication About Images by Jörg M. Colberg

At a time when many photojournalists are remaking their lives to fit their work into changing business models, it is difficult to raise the topic of how much their visual language also needs to change. Yet, to my mind—as a critic and curator who deals mostly with fine art photography—these two challenges are intertwined. Success will probably not happen in one unless progress is made in the other. No longer can photojournalists afford to rely on clichés, exemplified by predictable poses of weeping mothers and of starving children staring off into the distance, of soldiers cradling their fallen companions, or the countless others each of us can bring to mind. It is important to realize that each of these stories is still in need of telling, but the hoped-for connection between journalist and viewer is not likely to happen anymore in conventional ways.

Perhaps coolest of all, photographer Marcus Bleasdale is collaborating with comic artist Paul O’Connell to turn his photographs of gold and diamond mines in the Congo into a comic strip.  Through my internship at the Open Society Institute, I became familiar with the amazing impact Bleasdale has made with his photographs, which he details in The Impact of Images: First, They Must Be Seen:

In our attempt to bring this story to the attention of these international gold traders, Human Rights Watch and I worked together to create an exhibit of my mining photographs in Geneva, Switzerland, where Metalor Technologies, one of the leading gold mining companies, has its corporate offices. We invited to the exhibit’s opening night gold buyers and mining company executives as well as financiers, stockholders and journalists. Immediately after seeing this exhibit, Metalor Technologies halted its purchases of Congolese gold.

This success has only been Bleasdale’s starting point for making innovative use of his photographs.  This new step to comic book form is exciting, especially because it has indirectly gotten Bleasedale thinking about videogames as a possible format as well.

Image from Nieman Report site. "Comic artist Paul O'Connell transformed Marcus Bleasdale's photographs of exploitation in the Congo so that his message could reach a new audience."

There is a clear focus on repurposing the work to reach specific audiences.  It’s hard to imagine a photographer working this way during the fabled golden age of photojournalism, when magazines had large circulations and published many photo essays.  I doubt that that audience was as easy to move as we like to think in retrospect.  Digital media has made it impossible to ignore changes in the media that were well underway before the internet became popular.  Enough whining, and let’s get on with it.  The possibilities are too exciting to ignore.

When I looked up from taking this picture, four other kids were holding their laptops up above my head to take pictures of me. The teacher was relieved when I encouraged them to get back to their lesson even though I wanted to egg them on and see what they’d make.

(See my earlier comments on Messing Around with Photography in Cross-Cultural Exchanges.)