Picturing (anti)war: curiosity, photography and peace
I was directed to photographer Edward Kaprov's work recently, after I had given a talk on nineteenth century war photography and its impact on rising antiwar sentiments in 1860s Europe. Edward Kaprov has been getting noticed lately (featured in NYTimes, WARM panel, ARTE film). He is shown in this short film making photographs in the Ukraine of the war using glass plates and an 8x10 camera, developing them in his mobile darkroom (van). Roger Fenton did similar in Crimea about 170 years earlier; the echos are undeniable. Kaprov's interaction with people/place through his photographic approach is touching and about human connection, maintaining humanity in an atmosphere where life is so precarious. As powerful as his photographs are, it is this statement that caught me: "Politicians have invented new causes to justify violence. With the appearance of the first photographic evidence, humanity could no longer ignore the crimes perpetrated, but the wars did not stop. Those who caused it yesterday are condemning others today, to justify their violence tomorrow." Karpov's sentiments have been said before in different languages, in different ways, and continues to be relevant within what we see in and beyond Ukraine's borders, in Afghanistan, in Syria, in Sudan, and in Gaza. With innocent lives caught in the crossfire.
Karpov is Russian born, Israeli based. The intersection where he is positioned is one I am far removed from, but the thought of it and his work has lingered with me these past weeks since being introduced to his images, and made all the more poignant as the ruthless Israel-Hamas war rages. The volatility of that situation leaves me with little hope at the moment, but hope is what emerges from Karpov's stark, gritty and deeply human photographs. For me personally, there are some people that he photographed and who are featured in the short film that give me hope.
There are the faceless/nameless pathologists who carefully and respectfully record their observations, details of the state of the body they are tending to, dutifully noting evidence of possible causes of death. They do their work--that almost no one will even know about--with such tenderness. Clearly they know this is someone's child, parent, lover. Victim of war or other causes? Still unknown. Their invaluable work of maintaining dignity after death, and whose findings can bring solace to loved ones and justice to the deceased, can also lead to ethical dilemmas or moral distress for these care providers (which were explored artistically in a 2019 exhibit entitled "Beyond the Body"). That they care enough to do this work for strangers' loved ones, for (let's hope) justice and maybe even for prevention of future war crimes, reinforced my faith in humans.
The other person that gives me hope is the young boy on his bike. Protected by an older brother (likely) and flanked by two faithful dogs, this young kid is so curious of Kaprov and his 8x10 monstrosity of a camera. He keeps wanting to see the upside down image on the camera's ground glass. It's certainly different than looking at pictures on a smart phone or TV screen. Or is it? There's a metaphor or poem in there about seeing the upside down image of an Ukraine that is in a sense turned upside down by this conflict...will the camera then make it turn right, meaning 'good'? Maybe it's an aporia instead of a metaphor. (sorry for the jargon.)
That boy's curiosity.
I really hope it gets nourished.
Curiosity is what led Kaprov to make these photos, and it is this curiosity that, I think, keeps us humble and prevents us from being able to claim superiority over others. It can keep us from justifying the killing of 'others'. Susan Sontag said, "To paraphrase several sages [was she referencing Yogi Berra?]: Nobody can think and hit someone at the same time." Building on that idea with 'curiosity,' you can’t destroy something you’re curious about. Of course, I'm not the only one who has thought of curiosity in this way. In fact, if I've thought of it, most likely someone else has already given it far more thought than me. Indeed, most recently, that deep reflection and research has been done by Scott Shigeoka. That he describes curiosity "as a force for connection and transformation" really appeals to me. I see that potential also in photography.
Shigeoka's interest in curiosity is what he sees as its potential to be used as a force for healing divided nations (e.g., his nation: the USA) and counteracting polarization. Now, I don't see that as being Kaprov's intention with these photograph, but there is potential in his photographs (and others) to support such outcomes when viewers allow their curiosity to take hold.
Going back to the boy and his curiosity about the camera, we’ve probably all had a somewhat similar experience, being curious about what someone is photographing, or simply becoming curious about an image we’ve seen. If we could maintain that curiosity, or transfer it and hold it in our daily lives it could take us a long way towards connecting with people we might think we have nothing in common with. The boy’s curiosity about Kaprov's framing of a bombed building in the kids' neighbourhood can be seen as him (the boy) getting a new perspective on something that otherwise may have been taken for granted, somewhat like challenging assumptions. The boy's curiosity about what Kaprov thinks is worth photographing is like being able to see another person's perspective on an event or situation. This is curiosity and photography working together to build connections, to generate understanding. Most of us won't have an experience like that boy, thankfully, and instead become curious about a particular photograph, here or there, that grabs our attention and sparks our curiosity.
It's hard to say how many images people see in a day, but given that some 95 million pictures and videos are uploaded to Instagram daily, it’s safe to say we see a lot of images. Not all of them can cause us to stop, think and delve deeper to satiate our curiosity. After all, we have lives to live (or defend). As it is, it has always been easy to dismiss photographs by looking away, turning the page, or, now, swiping our screens. But every now and then, a pictures catches our attention and stops us in our tracks. That's when we should lean in rather than swipe away. This is where Shigeoka’s ideas around curiosity might be helpful. Though not a visual theorist, I see in his simple DIVE acronym (which, arguably feeling a bit self help-y or clinical research-like) as having relevance for photography.
These are still new and unfinished thoughts, but I can see ways that DIVE can take that spark of curiosity further. Roughly, DIVE breaks down into: Detach (or release yourself from your basic assumptions, and relearn), Intend (or what I like to think as be present, focus on being deliberate in learning about the pictured person(s), their humanity, no matter who they are/what they did), Value (search for common values, while also valuing the strengths that can come from diversity), and Embrace (embrace the challenges of relearning, the difficult reflections). Photographically, this can mean Detaching ourselves from visual tropes or interpretations that rely on harmful stereotypes. It can mean consciously unlearning the terrible legacy of oppressions, violences and shameful cliches created and perpetuated by photography. This requires Intention to see those who are/have been photographed as humans who are more than (stereotyped) surface appearances: we are all complex, fallible, with goals, values, and dignity. Which leads to the V: Values. Be it as a viewer or as a maker of images consider what your values are, such as fairness in interpretation or justice in terms of representation. And, finally, Embrace what you may encounter in this deeper dive be it in being challenged or being reassured by the photograph.
You may not need something like DIVE to delve deeper below the surface of the photograph to satisfy your curiosity. It does give some helpful scaffolding or touchstones, but critical thinkers may already apply much of this. What appeals to me is the positive energy that's inherent in the term curiosity. It brings joy and excitement. Curiosity uplifts as it connects. Kaprov didn't have to go to Ukraine. He could have stayed in Israel where there is plenty oppressive & horrific to photograph. But with this project be built bridges to/from his personal intersection as an insider/outsider. He brought/renewed people's hope and reinforced their dignity by demonstrating that people (still) care. That ability to connect is a powerful and under-appreciated value of photography.
Again, these are unfinished thoughts, and I'd love to hear yours on Kaprov's photography or my take on it and the idea of curiosity.
But as it is, I am more convinced that curiosity is a powerful peace builder. Be curious. Build connections that can be transformative for a more peaceful word. Curiosity is a bright spark in dark times.