war photographer

This documentary film, about the career of photographer James Nachtwey, was, in a word, intense! Wow. Through the entire film I kept saying to myself, “How does he do this??” The things he has seen are unreal. I can barely look at many of these images on this tiny computer screen—I had to avert my eyes a few times, and cried several times, but he sees them up close and personal, it’s hard for me to imagine that. And he doesn’t seem to use a telephoto lens or anything that lets you keep a safe distance from the action—he gets right up into it. He believes, as many do, that one needs to be close in order to get the good photo. I think he also feels a need to let his subjects know that he realizes that they are people and not just objects to be observed.

At the start of the film when he is in Kosovo photographing the crying woman, I wondered if he didn’t feel invasive being right up literally in her face with his camera. It seemed that he would have to feel impersonal or like an outsider. Did he even ask if he could intrude in these peoples’ lives? I was initially kind of offended and taken aback by his techniques. He was capturing these most painful and personal moments of families or friends—their time of tragedy or hurt or death. How could he do it? Was he that detached from it all? Maybe he was using his camera as a sort of barrier between the reality of the situation and himself. I remember him being at a funeral, not ten feet away from the wailing mourners, and no one seemed to pay him any attention. This also seemed so intrusive to me—to be witness to someone else’s personal moment. But then I thought, maybe they don’t even notice him there; they definitely have other things to distract them in that instant.

Then Jim explained that in war things are different. Normally he wouldn’t just go into someone’s home when they are grieving, it just wouldn’t be right. The people he takes photographs of have accepted and welcomed him into their lives and trust him. His acceptance is necessary otherwise it would be impossible to show what he does. They tend to realize that they are victims and that their stories need to be told, and by letting their photos be taken they are getting a voice. Listening to him talk about the respect he has for his subjects made me feel much better and accepting of him and the work that he does. He is not an exploiter and realizes that if his personal ambition ever takes over his compassion, he has failed.

Throughout the film I kept thinking—how does what he’s doing help? What is the need for these images to be captured and shown to the rest of the world? Jim answered that photography evokes a sense of humanity, and that humanity is kind of the opposite of war. If everyone could be in these settings, just once, to experience the heart of war, then they would understand that it needs to stop—there is nothing in this world that is worth this. But everyone can’t, that is why photographers have to go and do it for them—to show them, to help them feel what war and famine and poverty are like. Jim does this with his photographs. They are detailed, eye-opening, personal, and evoke an emotional response, and although mostly dealing with disturbing or depressing content, also quite beautiful.

All the images were powerful and almost severe. The images of the famine victims in Africa were heartbreakingly hard to look at. How could they even be alive? At least he explained that they were in a camp and were being helped…And the family in Jakarta that lived between the railroad tracks—it was scary just seeing the video footage. They sleep, eat and live inches away from maiming or death (as was found out by the father), it’s crazy! The photos that have stuck with me are where the man was being chased and ultimately beaten to death by a mob. These aren’t photos of aftermath, but something horrifying that was happening at the moment—a man was being killed. Those were hard to look at and take in as real. And the fact that Jim had pled with the men to not kill him and stayed right in the center of the action is amazing/crazy/heroic/dangerous. As other photographers kept their distance and documented, Jim was trying to help. Makes me wonder how many documentary photographers actually do this, or do the majority see themselves as only that—documentary photographers.

Nachtwey is almost Pollyanna-like in his optimism—that what he is doing can make a difference. Maybe he can’t stop war—a continuing theme through all of human existence, but maybe he can make the masses more aware, and in this way, bring some kind of gradual change or hope for those that suffer needlessly.