reminders- I WAS THERE

photo+text ©A.K. Kimoto

低い玄関をくぐり、ドアの木枠にぶつからないように身をかがめながら大きな水たまりをひとまたぎした。部屋の中は暗かった。目が暗さに慣れてくると、ゆっくりたゆたう細い煙の向こう越しに、部屋の隅に座る人影が見えた。ひとりの女性だった。私は挨拶し、泥の床に座れる固い場所を見つけて腰を下ろした。私はなぜこれほど多くの住民がアヘン中毒になっているのかその理由が知りたいと、アフガニスタンのバダフシャーン州にある人里離れた集落にやってきていた。

すぐ傍らに小さな包みがあった。その包みは、時折動いた。突然、そのくるまれた包みから小さな痩せた手が伸び、赤ん坊のか細い泣き声が聞こえてきた。私は写真を撮ろうと近寄った。母親は息子をなだめた。厳しい山の寒さから赤ん坊の身を護っている布がゆっくりとめくられると、そこに露わになった姿に、私は愕然とした。彼は重度の栄養失調で、皮膚は骨からだらりと垂れ下がっていた。Qurban（クルバン）は生後7ヶ月。医師の診察が必要なのは明らかだった。彼はアヘン中毒の状態で生まれ、その後も母乳を通じて日常的にアヘンを摂取しているのだった。

外に出て村の年長者達と話している間も、私の中には思いが駆け巡っていた。今日の午後遅く、村から徒歩で6時間かかる地点で一台の車が私を拾ってくれる手はずになっている。その車で母親と子どもを診療所へ連れていこうと申し出た。私が考えを言い終わらないうちに、年長者の一人が話を遮った。彼は優しく微笑んでこう言った。その赤ん坊は冷たい雨の中の移動に耐え切れないだろう。ともかく、このあたりの山々ではこうやって生と死が繰り返されてきたのだ、と。

English original text:

I walk through a low entrance, stepping over a large puddle while crouching to avoid the wooden beam of the doorframe. It’s dark. As my eyes adjust, I see a figure sitting in a corner as gentle wisps of smoke slowly dance across the room. I see that it is a woman, so I greet her and find a place to sit on the hard, mud packed floor. I’ve come to these remote settlements in Badakhshan, Afghanistan, to find out why so many of the inhabitants have become addicted to opium.

There is a small bundle just to my side. Occasionally it moves, until suddenly, a tiny skeletal hand breaks free and I hear the muffled cries of a child. I move closer to take a photograph, and his mother comes to comfort him. He is slowly unwrapped of the layers that protect him from the biting cold of the mountains and I am shocked by his condition. He is severely malnourished, and his skin hangs loosely from his bones. Qurban is 7 months old, and in desperate need of medical help. He was born addicted to opium and he receives a regular dose of the drug through his mother’s breast milk.

Back outside, my mind races as I talk to the village elders, and explain that a car will pick me up late in the afternoon, a 6-hour walk from the village. I offer to transport the mother and child to a clinic. One of the elders cuts me off before I can finish my thought. He smiles gently as he tells me that the child would never survive such a journey in the cold rain, and anyway, this way of life and death have been repeated for centuries in these mountains.

＊参照リンク
UNICEF PHOTO OF THE YEAR
Links: http://www.unicef.de/ehrenvolle-erwaehnungen-2009-fot.html?&L=1
Paying a tribute to the memory of A.K. Kimoto - I WAS THERE
http://bit.ly/i-was-there-ak

写真家プロフィール：
A.K. Kimotoは、現在、バンコクを拠点に活動している日本人写真家である。IT業界で成功を収めた後、東南アジアへ移住し、旅と写真に対する情熱を追求することを決意した。インドネシアへ着いて間もなく、巨大地震と津波により、アチェ州周辺のスマトラ島沿岸部が壊滅。数日後、彼は初めて仕事の依頼を受け、この悲劇的なニュースを取材した。それから数年間、彼はさまざまな国際NGOと仕事をし、アチェの復興する様子やこの地域の多くの社会問題を撮影した。

最新の作品では、国内の混乱や暴動により生命の危機に怯えながらも、普通に暮らそうとするアフガニスタンの人びとの生活に焦点を当てている。
http://spidersandflies.com/



A.K. Kimotoを偲んで
追悼文寄稿：岡原功祐

僕が初めてAK に会ったのは2007年のことだった。彼は穏和で優しい人で、僕たちはすぐに仲良くなった。そして彼は、僕にとって兄のような存在になった。
彼はいつも写真に写っている人たちの話をしていた。賞や自分に対する評価の話は聞いたことがなかった。人々のことを本当に気遣える真の写真家だった。編集やアイディアについても、みなのよき相談相手だった。誰からも愛され、許容力があり、才能あふれる写真家だった。ちょうど2週間ほど前に、彼と電話で彼の次のプロジェクトや僕のプロジェクトについて話したばかりだった。その20分間が彼と話をする最後になるとは夢にも思わなかった……いつものように彼との会話は楽しく、それはとても貴重なひとときだった。

写真家仲間であり、AKのよき友人でもあるJames Whitlow DelanoからAKの最後のメッセージを伝えるメールを受け取った。彼の性格や写真に写っている人々に対する姿勢が実によく表れているので、ここにその内容を引用したいと思う。1人の写真家として、とても大切なことだと思うから。

『自分が人にどう評価されようがかまわない。自分の努力を示す名声がない人生を送ったってかまわない。悩ましきことは、人々が自分の最近の作品を真剣に受け止めないことだ。それは自分のためではなく、写真を撮らせてくれた人々のために。4歳の少年がヘロインを吸っているところを見たことがあるか？それは悲劇じゃないのか？彼らの窮状に対し人々の関心を集められないなら、誰もこうしたことを気にかけないなら、時間をかけて、人生を費やして自分がしていることは何なのだろうか。それは決して賞を受賞するという類いのものではない。それは世の中に知らせること、人の目に見えないものを目撃すること、そしてこのようなストーリーをより多くの人々と共有することではないかと思う。自分にはこの2つの手で、自分のすべきことをするほかないのだから』

僕は彼が逝ってしまったということが未だに信じられない。まだ認められないのだと思う。……これは全部悪夢で、明日、目が覚めたら彼が電話をかけてきてくれるような気がしてならない……

＊編集部注：AKとの通常のコミュニケーションは英語でした。それゆえ、岡原君の追悼文も英語で書かれたものから翻訳されています。英語のオリジナルの文はこちらになります。
AKはオーストラリアのパースで開催されたFOTOFREOに向かう途中、突然倒れそのまま亡くなりました。フェスティバルでは彼のバダフシャーンのスライドショーが上映されました。

Paying a tribute to the memory of A.K. Kimoto by Kosuke Okahara

I met him A.K. Kimoto for the first time in 2007. He was a calm, and gentle man.
We became good friends, moreover, he became like my older brother.
He always told me about the people in the pictures, and never about recognition or awards.
A.K. Kimoto was a true photographer who really cared about people. He also helped me and others about editing, ideas etc.
He was such a generous and talented photographer whom we all adored. I just talked to him 2 weeks ago on the phone, about his next project, about my project. I could not imagine that those 20 minutes were the last time I would talk with him....it was a precious moment as always, I enjoyed talking with him.

I received an email from James Whitlow Delano, a fellow photographer and a good friend of AK about the last message he received from him. This really showed his personality, and his attitude towards the people in the photographs. I would like to quote here because I feel, as a photographer, that it is really important.

“I don't care about being recognized, and I don't care if I go through life with no fame to show for my efforts. What bothers me is that people do not take my latest work seriously. Not for my sake, but for the sake of the people who allowed me to photograph their lives. When was the last time you saw a 4 year old suckling heroin? Is it not a tragedy? If I can't do anything to bring attention to their plight, and if nobody cared, then what am I doing with my time and in fact, my life? It was never about awards or anything like that. I thought it was about being out in the world, witnessing things that others do not see, and sharing these stories with a larger audience. I always said that I do what I do because I only have 2 hands.”

I still cannot believe he is gone. I still don't want to say that I miss him.... I still hope it is just a nightmare and the next day when I wake up he will talk to me on the phone.....

photo+text ©A.K. Kimoto

I walk through a low entrance, stepping over a large puddle while crouching to avoid the wooden beam of the doorframe. It’s dark. As my eyes adjust, I see a figure sitting in a corner as gentle wisps of smoke slowly dance across the room. I see that it is a woman, so I greet her and find a place to sit on the hard, mud packed floor. I’ve come to these remote settlements in Badakhshan, Afghanistan, to find out why so many of the inhabitants have become addicted to opium.

There is a small bundle just to my side. Occasionally it moves, until suddenly, a tiny skeletal hand breaks free and I hear the muffled cries of a child. I move closer to take a photograph, and his mother comes to comfort him. He is slowly unwrapped of the layers that protect him from the biting cold of the mountains and I am shocked by his condition. He is severely malnourished, and his skin hangs loosely from his bones. Qurban is 7 months old, and in desperate need of medical help. He was born addicted to opium and he receives a regular dose of the drug through his mother’s breast milk.

Back outside, my mind races as I talk to the village elders, and explain that a car will pick me up late in the afternoon, a 6-hour walk from the village. I offer to transport the mother and child to a clinic. One of the elders cuts me off before I can finish my thought. He smiles gently as he tells me that the child would never survive such a journey in the cold rain, and anyway, this way of life and death have been repeated for centuries in these mountains.

photographer's profile:
A.K. Kimoto was a Japanese photographer based out of Bangkok, Thailand. After a successful career in the I.T. sector, A.K. decided to pursue his passion for travel and photography by moving to South-East Asia. He first travelled to Indonesia and shortly after his arrival, a strong earthquake and tsunami devastated the Sumatran coastline around Aceh. A few days later he accepted his first assignment to cover this tragic story. Over the following years, A.K. worked with various international NGOs to document the recovery efforts in Aceh, and on many social issues in the region.

Although he was based in Bangkok for the last few years, he travelled throughout the Asian region, with a particular interest in Afghanistan. In what was to be his final work, he focused on photographing the lives of ordinary Afghans who were struggling to lead a normal existence, while conflict and violence threatened their survival.
http://www.unicef.de/ehrenvolle-erwaehnungen-2009-fot.html?&L=1
http://spidersandflies.com/

**Received A.K. Kimoto's material for I WAS THERE from Kosuke Okahara As of March 12th 2010.

Paying a tribute to the memory of A.K. Kimoto by Kosuke Okahara

I met him A.K. Kimoto for the first time in 2007. He was a calm, and gentle man.
We became good friends, moreover, he became like my older brother.
He always told me about the people in the pictures, and never about recognition or awards.
A.K. Kimoto was a true photographer who really cared about people. He also helped me and others about editing, ideas etc.
He was such a generous and talented photographer whom we all adored. I just talked to him 2 weeks ago on the phone, about his next project, about my project. I could not imagine that those 20 minutes were the last time I would talk with him....it was a precious moment as always, I enjoyed talking with him.

I received an email from James Whitlow Delano, a fellow photographer and a good friend of AK about the last message he received from him. This really showed his personality, and his attitude towards the people in the photographs. I would like to quote here because I feel, as a photographer, that it is really important.

“I don't care about being recognized, and I don't care if I go through life with no fame to show for my efforts. What bothers me is that people do not take my latest work seriously. Not for my sake, but for the sake of the people who allowed me to photograph their lives. When was the last time you saw a 4 year old suckling heroin? Is it not a tragedy? If I can't do anything to bring attention to their plight, and if nobody cared, then what am I doing with my time and in fact, my life? It was never about awards or anything like that. I thought it was about being out in the world, witnessing things that others do not see, and sharing these stories with a larger audience. I always said that I do what I do because I only have 2 hands.”

I still cannot believe he is gone. I still don't want to say that I miss him.... I still hope it is just a nightmare and the next day when I wake up he will talk to me on the phone.....

Paying a tribute to the memory of A.K. Kimoto by James Whitlow Delano

Sometimes life tests us by taking away people we care about but it is always hardest when this happens without warning. This is rather a selfish statement because it implies a self-centered attitude. I met A.K. Kimoto by chance in Kabul, Afghanistan. There was no period of getting to know one another, we just slipped into each others lives like a pair of old, comfortable shoes. It was that easy.

There was something about him that instilled immediate trust. I remember the morning I wrapped a turban around my head and traveled down a dangerous Afghan highway by local group taxi to complete a story and there was never any question who I would call. It was AK who I asked to check that I made it back that night, but that makes him sound serious and stoic. AK was deep but with humility and a childlike sense of humor. We both loved to share videos that showed the folly of ordinary life. He had no ego that I could discern. There was no self-importance. None. He walked into life centered and inquisitive but really didn’t care what people thought of him.

If there was anything with which he seemed to struggle it had to have been a perfectionist streak or a niggling self-doubt when photographing. He would ruminate on how best to present his brilliant work from Badakhshan, Afghanistan, where he spent weeks photographing families struggling with hunger and heroin addiction, easing pangs of their children’s hunger by blowing heroin smoke into their noses until they slept, ensuring another generation of heroin addiction. This work was intimate, raw, sensitive, and tragic. The weight of responsibility he assumed seeped deep into his mind as he worried about exploiting these forgotten mountain dwellers. He did not.

The last communiqué I got from AK was just one short week ago. These were his final sage-like words to me:

I don't care about being recognized, and I don't care if I go through life with no fame to show for my efforts. What bothers me is if people don't take my latest work seriously. Not for my sake, but for the sake of the people who allowed me to photograph their lives. When was the last time you saw a 4 year old sucking down heroin? Is it not a tragedy? If I can't do anything to bring attention to their plight, and if nobody cares, then what am I doing with my time and in fact, my life? It was never about awards or anything like that. I thought it was about being out in the world, witnessing things that others don't see, and sharing these stories with a larger audience. I always said that I do what I do because I only have 2 hands.

AK never forgot what was important in life and I will never, ever forget AK Kimoto. I will miss him for he deeply enriched my life. AK Kimoto was my friend. I was proud to be a friend of his.


James Whitlow Delano (left) and A.K. Kimoto (right) at Angkor in Siem Reap, Cambodia
©Dave Dare Parker

Paying a tribute to the memory of A.K. Kimoto by David Høgsholt

Hi friends,
beautiful - thanks so much for the words.
I can not do much but agree with everything. When AK let you in, it was as if you had always been there - it was that easy, It was that comfortable being his friend.
For the few years, I knew him, AK was a constant force of stability in my life. And his importance to me only grew bigger each time we saw each other.
AK was quiet, but strong. He was, in lack of a better word, an idealist - and a beautiful one at it. He asked a lot of himself but much less of his friends, instead he offered unflinching support as well as loving and harsh criticism when needed.

Besides that, he was funny as hell. Witty and edgy in the most clever way.
I thought we had a tiny fall-out once, and it hurt like hell. Next day I saw him, I told him it hurt and he just said something like: "C’mon bro, we didn't fight, we just disagreed. Let's have coffee!"
Coffee... he he, most often the only thing that could get him across the river and into the best ”expat mall” in town was exactly that – his quest for good coffee. It was a hit and run kinda operation. Coffee, and back to his apartment and his girlfriend Toon.

I always saw AK as a guy who was comfortable in his own life. He didn’t need tons of action or people around him – on the contrary. Lots of us has seen him head home early from a party. It was not that he was a loner, more that when alone or alone with Toon, he didn’t need much else. At the same time, he was great with people. Before he would have left that party, he would have blessed some with great company and talks. All of you who have met him around the world knows that. I always suspected a simple explanation – that he just liked people. That was the beauty of it.

So much is so unfair about him being gone. Professionally, I think he found himself completely on his last story. He always felt exactly like in that great quote above, but in Badakshan he found the story where it all came together, where he hoped to make a difference. He knocked on office doors in Kabul, showed the work to the right people in the hopes that someone would go up there and try to help him change things. He was deeply moved and involved and wanted others to be the same. And he was going back soon.

I wrote this a few hours ago:

”I walk into the street. Busy as always. Traffic, heat, people. I don’t understand why it hasn’t stopped. Don’t they know? Don’t they care?
I walk to the cafe where we always met. I know he wont be there and still it is so hard to really believe that he just wont walk off the boat and greet me from the other side. Of the river.
I get angry at all the living around me. Why doesn’t it stop for a sec to remember. No, not to remember, to keep him. I cry. I realize that it is not up to them, they don’t know and they’ll go on. They have to, that’s how it is. It is not out there that he will live on, it is inside me. Inside us.”

I have been afraid that I will lose the memory of him. I do forget things all the time, but now I feel like my brain and heart has already set aside room for him. Like a vault that can’t be broken into. Go ahead, build a distracting world on top of it - it will still be down there, close to the center of it all.

Love you and miss you bro.
D.

Paying a tribute to the memory of A.K. Kimoto by Ying Ang

Have to say goodbye to a friend… who passed away before his time. I’m swimming in conversations we’ve had and thinking about the amazing person who I wanted to have the chance to spend a lot more time with in the undefinable and always uncertain future. He always makes me laugh. Tells me to follow my dreams. He likes my blurry pictures more than my sharp ones. He always took my side. He rescued a puppy from the mean streets of Bangkok and would smuggle her in and out of his apartment in his backpack to go for walks. The number of photographs I have of his dog on my hard drive outnumber the photographs that I have of him by about 10:1... A single conversation would range from him giving his dog half his breakfast to warning me about not letting the establishment corrupt the way I shoot and how cool the ninja emoticon on skype is. In fact, AK's last communication to me a few weeks ago was "ninjas are rad".

Nearly a week on since learning of his passing and I still haven't gotten used to the fact that I can't quickly email him some silliness/seriousness and get a response. I have barely gotten used to the fact that the measly few photographs I have of him are the only photographs of him I will ever take. The good news is that I always told him what I thought of him and I have no regrets about leaving any words unsaid. AK always knew how much I respected him and how much I valued his friendship and support. The bad news is that when you find such a person in your life, enough is never enough. The loss of AK to the people in his life is devastating. The loss of people that were yet to meet him is a damn shame... And on one hand the sadness that sits like a stone in my heart, I wish would go away, but on the other hand I want to keep it close to ensure that my recollection of him remains sharp and true. So acute this fear of forgetting, I repeat the image of our friendship in my head every day... cementing, consolidating the old memories because there will be no new ones to take their place.

AK ~ Missing our conversations about everything and nothing and the laughter. Missing your single-minded determination to remain true to your work, your purity devoid of ego (a definite rarity in our world), your unflinching loyalty to your friends and subjects, your grumpliness (and I don’t care that no one else understands this word)… your knife-sharp humour and the span of ridiculous stories from Afghanistan to Thailand.

Wish we had more time.


A.K. Kimoto in Siem Reap, Cambodia
©Ying Ang

Paying a tribute to the memory of A.K. Kimoto by Patrick Brown

How does one put a life into words, especially A.K.’s? He was a very unique person with so many incredible qualities. AK was so many things to so many different people. For me, the one quality that keeps coming to the forefront is the way he loved life itself.

I’ve been trying to think of how I first met AK, I’ve been racking my brains for the precise moment and I simply can’t. It’s as if that moment has been locked away within time itself, similar to his untimely death. The form in which he was taken from this world, in an unexpected way, gave many people, myself included, a meaning and an understanding to his death. Like so many of us, I was simply stunned, disbelieving, it’s all a mistake.

I still see his name in my phone, I just simply want to call him, meet for our weekly coffee, talk shop, have a laugh - sadly this call will fall on deaf ears. I never once left AK’s company unhappy, he had a great sense of balance, between reflective thought and boyish humor, a great person to be around.

A.K. lived a full life, he saw a multitude of different worlds, some he visited, some he was an integral part of, some that were an integral part of who he was, such as the children affected by opium addiction
in Afghanistan. Also, at the Angkor Photo Festival, where he had strong convictions that photography
should be for everyone. This is where his personality as a photographer came to the forefront. In his nonjudgmental way and in his ability to see straight through disingenuous people. These qualities he had in an abundance, you can see it in his work and you can see it in the people who surrounded him. He had an ability to really touch peoples lives, mine included.

This world is going to be a little less happier place now the man with the hat is no longer with us. Unwittingly, AK described his life better than anyone: “I do what I can do because I only have 2 hands”.

photo+text ©Pedro Meyer（1987年　メキシコシティー）

末期がんと診断された父に残された時間は短かった。
父にポートレートを撮りたいが構わないかと尋ねると、彼の返事はもちろんイエスだった。
「どうしたらいい？」と聞かれ、わたしはこう答えた。「好きなように自由にしてよ。」
すると彼は座っていたソファーの上で後ろ向きになり、こう言った。
「飛びたい！」

English original text:

My father had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and had only a short time to live. I wanted to make a portrait of my father, so I asked him if I could photograph him.
He said yes, of course. “What do you want me to do?” he asked. I responded, “What ever it is that you want to do.” So he slowly turned around on the sofa he was sitting in, and said: "I want to fly".

[Mexico City, 1987]

＊参照リンク
ZoneZero
http://www.zonezero.com/

写真家プロフィール：
ペドロ・メイヤーは現代写真の草分け、かつ現代写真を代表する著名人のひとりである。メキシコ写真評議会（Consejo Mexicano de Fotografía）の発起人兼会長であり、第１回から第３回までのラテンアメリカ写真会議（Latin American Photography Colloquium）の主催者でもある。自身で芸術的な写真作品を手がけるだけでなく、ペドロ・メイヤーは数々の一流校で教師としても活躍している。また彼が管理・編集・制作責任者を務める有名な写真ウェブサイトZoneZeroは、世界中から集まった1,000人以上の写真家の作品を紹介し、毎月50 万人超が訪れる。年間550万人を超えるアクセスにより、ZoneZeroはウェブ上でもっともアクセスの多いコンテンツサイトのひとつとされる。
http://pedromeyer.com

photo+text ©Sohrab Hura

母の手

自分でもよくわからない。この写真がなぜ自分にとって意味があるものなのか。この文章を書くために机に向かうまで、あまり考えたこともなかった。

「手にはその人の人生が刻まれている」と言われる。
母は昔もいまも美しい。だが数年前、病にかかった。妄想型統合失調症という病を患い、それ以来、薬を常用している。このことが彼女にある負担を強いた。母の手や顔の皮膚からは、この間に受けた影響がはっきりと見てとれる。母はまたわたしが知る人の中で、最も強い人だ。あれやこれやの状況にもかかわらず、全てにおいて自立している。私は思う。この強さが、母の手に表れていると。

母の写真を撮るたびに、私はいつもびくびくしていた。母を苛立たせたくはなかった。写真の中で、母はわたしに手を差し出している。それは、厚い信頼もいっしょに差し出してくれているということなのだ。この写真が私にとって特別なのは、そこなのだ。

English original text:

These are my mother's hands.

I am not entirely sure why this photograph means something to me. I hadn't really thought about it before getting down to write.

They say that a person’s hands can reflect the story of her life. My mother was and is very beautiful. But some years ago she fell ill. She has paranoid schizophrenia now and she has been on constant medication since. This has also taken a toll on her and is very visible in how the skin on her hands and face has been affected over the years. However, she is also one of the strongest people I know and has always been self reliant in everything despite her condition. I see this strength in her hands.

I have always been afraid to take photos of my mum. I never wanted to aggravate her. In the photo she gave her hands to me and in doing, she trusted me.
I think that is the most special element in the photo for me.


＊参照リンク
LIFE IS ELSEWHERE FOR PDFX12|photo documentary folioX12 vol.22
（下記より無料の購読申し込みをしてご覧頂けます。）
http://reminders-project.org/pdfx12/subscription.html
PDN'S 30 2010
http://www.pdngallery.com/gallery/pdns30/2010/
現在開催中のfotofreo公式プログラムpdf
FotoFreo 2010: The City of Fremantle Festival of Photography
http://www.fotofreo.com/2010/!Programme%20Summary%20100222.pdf
Lightstalkers
http://www.lightstalkers.org/sohrabhura
burn magazine
http://www.burnmagazine.org/essays/2009/06/sohrab-hura-oasis/
fllickr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/7889576@N05/

写真家プロフィール：
ソラーブ・フラは、1981年10月17日、インド・西ベンガルの小さな町、チンスラに生まれる。成長につれ将来の夢はつぎつぎと変わった。最初の夢は犬になること。それがスーパーヒーローに変わり、獣医、爬虫両生類学者をへて、野生動物を撮る映画監督がかつての夢だった。経済学で修士課程を修了し、現在、ドキュメンタリー写真家として活躍する。生活拠点はニューデリー。

クリスチャン・コジョル氏（パリのフォトエージェンシーVUの創始者）は、ソラーブ・フラの写真を評して、次のような言葉を寄せている。

--　この若いインド人写真家は、モノクロ写真を選んだ。彼の世界観や写真に関するおおらかな考え方はモノクロにぴったりだった。また彼が探求しつづける伝統や歴史、抽象化したものを表現するのにも、モノクロは合っていた。彼は写真に、とてもパーソナルな、私的なはたらきを求める。まず自身の感情を表現すること。次いで彼の一番近しい世界、とりわけ母親や恋人を表現すること、そして最後に、なじみのある環境、それも自分が暮らす街よりは自宅を多く写真におさめる。
ソーラブはテクニックをあまり気にかけない。コンディションの悪い機材を使い、限界ぎりぎりのわずかな光量をフィルムに感光させる。彼の写真で目につく断片化した粒子も、なにがしか効果を狙ったりスタイルを考えたりしてのものではない。彼が感じとった印象や世界観、気持ちをできるだけ正確に再現しようとする手段にすぎないのだ。
写真の世界にとびこんだばかりのソーラブだが、彼は実験や危険に挑み続けている。コンビネーション作品やディプティク（二連画）・ポリプティク（多連画）を制作し、ユニークなイメージによって自身の不満を語り続けている。その姿勢は彼が今後多くの経験を重ねた後にも、決して変わることはないだろう。
ソーラブは、自身のことばの中にある機微や微妙なものを探りあてようとしている。満足できる形を見つけようと写真素材と格闘している。ごまかしやなにかを証明するためではなしに、あるがままの自分を写しとろうとしている。そうせずにはいられないという必要性から生まれた、このすばらしい正直さで。

クリスチャン・コジョル

photo+text ©Rania Matar

わたしの写真の主眼は中東、とりわけ女性と子どもだ。西洋とアラブ世界の中間に位置するその地理ゆえに、レバノンは興味深い。レバノンと米国の両方に暮らしたことがあるわたしは、レバノンを知り人々を理解できる内部の人間であると同時に、西洋の眼でその複雑さを観察する部外者でもある。

「Barbie Girl（バービー・ガール）」は「The Aftermath of War（戦争の爪痕）」というシリーズの一部で、「Ordinary Lives」という写真集の表紙に選んだ。
この写真を撮ったのは、イスラエルとヒズボラの戦争が終わった2006年9月。住宅用の建物があまりにもひどく破壊されたため、解体用の鉄球で壊しているところだった。爆撃以前ここに住んでいた人々が、一日じゅう解体が終わるのを待っていた。がれきの中から所持品を見つけるためだ。

わたしを魅了したのは、人々がもつ回復力や親近感、信頼感だった。解体を待つのは近所のイベントと化していて、わたしはそこに招待された。この写真のイメージと背景に写し出されているこの瞬間に、回復力と人間性を感じる。背景には圧倒的な破壊があるにもかかわらず、バービーのＴシャツを着た子どもは、がれきの下から飛び立つ不死鳥のように前を向き、生を受け入れ、母親の笑みを誘う。

レバノンでの取材中、人々はわたしを生活の中に招き入れてくれた。人びとの回復力ともてなしの心には頭の下がる思いだった。宗教や政治的所属は関係なかった。写真の中でわたしは、どんな状況にあっても、日常のありふれた仕事を変わらず営み続ける人々の精神に焦点を当てた。普通とは全く言えないような環境や政治情勢であっても、そこでかれらが送る日常生活は、ごく当たり前のものなのだ。

ラニア・マター　ボストン　2010

English original text:

The focus of my photography is the Middle East, women and children especially. Lebanon is interesting because of its location between the West and the Arab world. I lived in both Lebanon and the U.S., which makes me an insider who knows Lebanon and understands its people, but also an outsider who sees its complexities through Western eyes.

Barbie Girl is part of a series The Aftermath of War and is the image I chose for the cover of my book Ordinary Lives. It was taken in September 2006 after the war between Israel and Hezbollah. Residential buildings were very heavily damaged so a wrecking ball was destroying them. People who lived in them prior to the bombings spent their day waiting for them to collapse so they can find their belongings in the rubble.

What fascinated me were the resilience, friendliness and trust of people. Waiting for the buildings to fall became a neighborhood event to which I was welcomed. For me, this image and the moment behind it represent resilience and humanity: the toddler wearing the Barbie T-shirt is facing forward like a Phoenix rising from the rubble, embracing life and bringing a smile to her mother’s face despite all the destruction in the background.

Throughout my work in Lebanon, I was welcomed into people’s lives, and humbled by their resilience and hospitality. Religion and political affiliations did not matter. In my photos I concentrated on the spirit with which people continue with the mundane tasks of daily life no matter what their circumstances: their lives that are ordinary in a surrounding and a political climate that are often anything but ordinary.

Rania Matar, Boston 2010


＊参照リンク
Ordinary Lives
http://ordinarylives.raniamatar.com/

写真家プロフィール：
ラニア・マターはレバノンで生まれ育ち、1984年にアメリカ合衆国へ移り住んだ。コーネル大学で建築の教育を受け建築家として働いた後、New England School of Photography（ニューイングランド写真専門学校）およびメキシコ市のMaine Photographic Workshops（メイン州写真ワークショップ）で写真を学んだ。現在はフリーランスの写真家であり、レバノンではNGOと協力してパレスチナ人難民キャンプの10代の少女たちに、ボストンでは子ども病院の支援で10代の難民の子どもたちに、写真を教える活動を続けている。

おもに中東の地で、パレスチナ人難民キャンプ、近年の秘密主義の蔓延、戦争の後遺症、アラブ人キリスト教徒などをテーマに取り組む。これらマターのプロジェクトは、しばしば忘れられ誤解される人々に、声を与えることを目的としている。

2008年にはWomen in Photography International（国際女性写真家審査展）が選ぶTop 100 Women Photographers（女性写真家トップ100）に選出されるなど、これまで数々の賞を受賞。マターの作品は、米国内また国際的で広く出版・展示されている。「Ordinary Lives（当たり前の生活）」と題された初めての写真集が、Quantuck Lane Press（クオンタックレーン出版）から出版・発売されたばかりである。
＊教育機関名称・所在地はマターが学んだ当時のもの。
http://www.raniamatar.com/

photo+text ©Olivier Pin-Fat（2001年　タイ・ビルマ国境）

これは2001年に撮った「シャニカ」という名のビルマ人ラウェイ拳士の写真だ。わたしはタイとビルマの国境にあるトタン小屋で、汗だくになって撮影をしていた。その日はある拳士に意識を集中していた。彼の眼にはなにかが宿っていた。肉体的・精神的強さ。けんかや交尾をしている猫が放つ電流にも似たレーザーのような視線。何枚か写真を撮っている間に、彼の番になった。第2ラウンドで対戦相手のタイ人がシャニカの後頭部に素手の一撃をくらわせ（これも写真に撮った）、彼の額がロープに当たってはね返った。痛みに顔がゆがみ（笑っているようにも見えた）、体が崩れた。この写真が「崩れ落ちる」瞬間だ。頭へのハンマーのような猛烈な一撃のあと、目がくらむようなライトの中で倒れ込むシャニカ。彼がキャンバスに沈む様子は、とことん悲惨で、わびしく、寂しく、絶望的であると同時に、どこか優美でもあった。「完璧なKO」だった。
※ラウェイはビルマ式キックボクシング。素手で戦う。

彼はこの試合に多くを賭けていた。わたしは彼に共感していた。彼は単に負けたのではなく、意識を失うまでにKOされた。彼が賭けていたもの――不法入国、勝ったらもらえたであろう微々たる賞金。これは彼ひとりのことではない。タイ・ビルマ国境で起こるすべてのことを語っていた。試合後、うつろな目をしてイスに腰を下ろした彼の中には、あの不思議な「電流」はすっかり中和され残っていなかった。まるであのKOパンチとともに、彼の夢がきれいさっぱり消え失せてしまったかのように。

English original text:

This is a photograph I took of a Burmese bare-fist boxer called ‘Shanika’ in 2001. I was on the Thai/Burmese border, photographing in a sweltering corrugated iron shed, and was focusing my attention on one particular fighter that day. There was something about his eyes, a physical and mental intensity, a laser focus that reminded me of the electricity cats give out when they’re fighting or copulating. I took some portraits of him & then his turn to fight arrived. In the 2nd round, his opponent, a Thai, drove a bare fist to the back of Shanika’s skull, I have a photo of this, his forehead bounces off the ropes, he grimaces in pain, almost smiling, and he begins to go down. This is him ‘going down.’ Falling through the dizzying lights, after this driving hammer blow to the head, but there’s something utterly devastating, desolate, lonely, hopeless and yet graceful in the way he hit the canvass. It was a ‘total knock out’.

I empathized with him because he’d pegged so much on this fight. He didn’t just lose, he was knocked out ‘senseless’. The stakes he’d gambled, his illegal crossing, the paltry sum of money he’d have made if he had actually won, spoke not only of him but of everything that goes on along that Thai/Burmese border. He sat down in a chair glassy-eyed afterwards and all of his strange ‘electricity’ had left him, it has been neutralized, as if all of his dreams had deserted him with that one knock out punch.


＊参照リンク
Olivier Pin-Fat - prospekt | fotografi
http://www.prospekt.it/photographer.php?id=33
Represented by Gallery Vu'
http://www.agencevu.com/photographers/photographer.php?id=69

これから開催される写真展 4/3-5/30
In-Land Out-Cast
http://www.kathmandu-bkk.com/exhibition_future01.html

世界報道写真財団アーカイブ
http://www.archive.worldpressphoto.org/search/layout/result/indeling/detailwpp/form/wpp/start/21/q/ishoofdafbeelding/true/trefwoord/year/2003

これまでの仕事が紹介されているサイト、日本語、英語
http://www.noorderlicht.com/en/archive/olivier-pin-fat/
http://manchesterphotography.blogspot.com/2009/01/oliver-pin-fat.html
http://www.powerhousebooks.com/author/909
http://japan.agnesb.fr/ja/bside/section/event/-10/the-cover-story-at-covent-garden

写真家プロフィール：
イギリスで1969年に生まれる。
1993年、タイに拠点を移す。
1998年から2008年まで、パリのフォトエージェンシーVUに所属。ギャラリーVUのメンバーでもあった。2009年11月からイタリアのProspektに所属している。
2009年5月、写真集「DEAD LIGHT, BONE DRY（干からびた死）」がヨーロッパ写真出版賞の最終候補に残る。同写真集は2010年に出版の予定。
彼の写真はパリのギャラリーVUをはじめ、世界各地の写真展、ギャラリー等で展示されている。また著名な国際刊行物への掲載や個人コレクションの所蔵も多数。
http://www.olivierpin-fat.com