fiction addict: February 2016

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Jonas Bendiksen

“The girl playing alone beneath wedding lights in Mumbai’s Dharavi slum is not the closest or rawest image I’ve taken. But it is somehow a subtly tender and magical moment, where I feel like I drift into this little girl’s frame of mind for a second. Whenever I feel, I somehow am there with that person, and I feel something that connects me. That is what I define as an intimate image, more than if the picture is really up close or in your face.”

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Harry Gruyaert's Mali

Harry Gruyaert :: The Niger river at Mopti, Mali, 1988

Wednesday, February 17, 2016

David Alan Harvey

“Intimacy can manifest itself in a photograph literally, showing actual intimacy between people, or be implied in the image through an act of deep internalization. A bit more mysterious... A tease maybe?

For years as a photojournalist my job was to be didactic, but now my tack has changed: I still believe in bearing witness, yet I am way more inclined to leave my audience with unanswered questions. Why does everything need to be resolved? Isn’t there great pleasure in imagining what might be happening?

I am too involved, too much a part of the story, for my work to still be considered photojournalism. Yet perhaps the new work may still fall into some interpretations of documentary. I don’t care. I’m simply on a river that’s taking me wherever it goes.”— David Alan Harvey [from Magnun Photos]

Hiroji Kubota

“Every morning, courageous swimmers jump in the river for a minute or two. No surprise that their skin turns red immediately. But the onlookers - including this photographer with a winterized Leica - felt even colder, in sympathy.”— Hiroji Kubota

Harry Gruyaert :: Pisa, 1983

“1983 was the beginning of a new love. Our first trip together was to Tuscany, Italy, in August. I photographed this young couple in Pisa. They looked as if they were from an Italian Renaissance painting. They were the sensual reflection of what was going on in my own life.” Harry Gruyaert