Archive for the 'works in progress' Category

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Manfredi Pantanella

Leaving Rubbish

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Cairo, the capital of Egypt, is one of the world’s largest cities, more than 25 million inhabitants which produces a lot of wastes.

Until today an ad-lib urban plan could not manage the situation, leaving the city flooding in the trash.

No chance. Luckily, Cairo has the Zabbaleen.

The Zabbaleen are a religious minority of Coptic Christians who have served as 
Cairo’s informal garbage collectors for the past 80 years. Zabbaleen means
 “Garbage people” in Egyptian Arabic.

Spread out among seven different settlements scattered in the Greater Cairo Urban Region, the Zabbaleen population is about
 80,000. The largest settlement is in the village of Moqattam, better known as the
 “Garbage City”, located at the feet of the
 Moqattam Mountains, next to Manshiyat Naser, a Muslim squatter settlement 
where the 90 percent of the community of this region are of Christian faith followers.
 For the past decades the Zabbaleen have supported themselves by collecting the 
trash, going door-to-door, for almost no
 charges. The Zabbaleens currently recycle up to 80 percent of the collected waste, whereas only 25 percent is reused by Western garbage companies. 
Many sources agree that the Zabbaleen have created one of the most efficient
 recycling systems in the world, they collect up to 3,000 tons of 
garbage every day.

The government does not reward the Zabbaleen for their actions, but instead has created a privatized system of waste collection, which is threatening the 
socio-economic sustainability of the Zabbaleen community.

The Egyptian government announced its plans to modernize and ‘Westernize’ the city’s waste management system, claiming the Zabbaleen’s methods were backward and unhygienic. This is not entirely false. Although conditions are improving, diseases such as hepatitis are common. This is hardly surprising when rubbish, including sharp metal, broken glass, and hospital waste such as syringes, are all sorted by hand.

However, the Zabbaleen were joined by many international aid agencies in protesting that the only way to lift them out of poverty was to allow them to keep their jobs as the city’s rubbish collectors. In a country with a 10.8% unemployment rate and with 20% of the population living in poverty, they had a point.

The three European companies hired to clean up Cairo cost $50 million a year, and recycled at best 25% of the waste they collected. The companies offered to hire the Zabbaleen as collectors, but offered as little as a dollar a day, half what a Zabbaleen can earn working for himself. However, the privatisation system has failed, leaving the city with litter-strewn streets and the continued use of the unsanitary landfill sites. Some have claimed that all the new modernisation initiatives have done is inspire a new generation of street waste collectors.

Bio

Manfredi Pantanella was born in 1985.

He lives between Rome and Paris. He attended The “Centro Sperimentale di Fotografia” of Rome and the “Ecole Superieure de Photographie et d’ Audiovisuel” of Paris. He work on stories about subcultures and documentary photography.

He has worked as an assistant for Reza (National Geographic Fellow).

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Manfredi Pantanella

photograph by LAURA EL-TANTAWY

Reda Abdelaziz Mohamed is not crying.

His left eye constantly weeps, his right, blinded forever.

Nineteen-year-old Reda (Arabic word meaning ‘contentment’) was shot in his eyes on November 19, 2011. He was in Mohamed Mahmoud Street in central Cairo to support protesters in an ongoing battle against security forces off Tahrir Square. Reda was not throwing rocks at police — he was kneeling down to pick up a protester’s dead body when he was shot. “I don’t remember feeling anything. I ran and knelt down to pick up a dead body. Next to me stood a police officer. Suddenly I was thrust backwards and I have not seen anything since.”

As the story of a new Egypt continues, it’s extremely hard not to tell the story of people like Reda and hundreds others who have suffered the life changing consequences of fighting for freedom and dignity. Last month alone almost 50 people died in violent clashes on Mohamed Mahmoud Street and at least 1,000 others were injured. Most suffered pellet wounds to the head and eyes, some died of suffocation from excessive tear gas. The Ministry of Interior denies using live ammunition and tear gas against protesters on Mohamed Mahmoud and claim a “third party” is responsible. No one has been punished for killing and injuring protesters.

Almost 10 months have passed since I stood in Tahrir Square to celebrate Mubarak’s resignation — the best day in my life. It is hard for me to see a new Egypt given nothing seems to have changed.

Egypt post January 25 looks and feels exactly the same as Egypt now: corruption, failed policies and mistreatment of the general population remain standard procedure. This is the reason for a constant upheaval of emotions and anger among protesters who founded the January 25 movement that ousted former dictator Hosni Mubarak. On Saturday (December 10), Tahrir Square was reopened to traffic after nearly three weeks of a sit-in demanding an end to military rule and introducing an elected civilian government. Many of the protesters have moved camp to a sit-in outside Parliament, but everyday their numbers are dwindling.

Pro-democracy activists say they are being slowly exterminated in the same way as they were during Mubarak’s rule. Some have been secretly kidnapped and tortured and others are being put in jail to undergo military trials.

Freedom silenced?

The consequence has been resilience and determination to finish what started on January 25.

Reda says if he ever manages to see again, he would return straight to Tahrir. His parents, who never took part in politics, say they will join him, so does his uncle and aunt.

One casualty of Egypt’s unfinished revolution has given birth to at atleast 10 activists — revolutionaries — who are ready and willing to join the frontline.

I left Reda smiling, talking to his fiancé on the telephone, but I walked out, I noticed his left eye softly weeping.

I wondered if he was crying.

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Lorenzo Meloni

Moonlight Yemen

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Walking around the streets at night gives the feeling of travelling back in time, to a place where time has stopped.

The infrastructures here are few and the electricity is scarce – at night it is possible to see the stars on the horizon.

Mountains shield from the scorching desert wind and the muezzin’s chants from all the minarets strike you with strength and melancholy, reminding you that you are in a place where religion still dictates ordinary, everyday life.

Yemen is a Muslim country, a charming reality which goes un-noticed when reading about terrorism and kidnapping related chronicles in the newspaper.

During Ramadan, before dawn, you can still eat and smoke a cigarette on the misty tops of the Haratz mountains or in the Gulf of Aden, gazing at the red sea.

At sunrise everybody goes home to shelter from the heat. People stop chewing khat in order to halt the amphetamine intake, otherwise sleeping would be difficult.

At sunset, everybody gets together again – the streets are now filled with people. Jobs are few and staying at home means dealing with screaming kids and bossy elderly. It is more pleasant to be outside and meet someone to eat Salta with, or to chew khat, or to complain about the
president.

When Ramadan ends, daytime activities return as do daily issues – young adults looking for employment to support their children and wife; wives walking miles to fetch non-existent water; a man going to the market to buy an AK-47, angry because things never change.

Bio

Lorenzo Meloni was born in 1983 in Rome, studied at the “Scuola Romana di Fotografia” for three years, focusing his interests on the Middle East and the Italian youth underground scenarios. H
e has reported on major world issues such as those regarding Palestinan refugees and Yemen. Other works include retrospectives on the Italian techno-rave and hip-hop youth scenarios.

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Lorenzo Meloni

Wall street protesters sleep off an all night event as some head for the office

photograph by Andy Kropa

This photograph was made last week in my New York loft workshop as part of an essay on Wall Street. Andy was one of three photographers in class last week to take on the protesters of capitalism. This picture makes almost theatrical the look of a very compelling news event.

Manjari Sharma

Darshan

Historically considered a mechanical device to keep record, photography didn’t even start to find a place in galleries until the 20th century. It’s no surprise then that paintings and sculptures of Hindu deities were the dominant way to experience Indian mythology. As an Indian traditionally raised in Mumbai, despite my extensive exposure to Hindu temples, I had never seen a photograph of a deity created from scratch. Most Hindus have seen the use of painting and sculpture but rarely photography taken to the level of exacting measures with respect to showcasing deities, this is how “Darshan” was born. Darshan is a Sanskrit word that means ‘sight,’ ‘view’ or ‘vision’. My project Darshan aims to photographically recreate 9 classical images of gods and goddesses pivotal to mythological stories in Hinduism.

I grew up in a Hindu home to parents who were quite spiritual. I visited countless temples, shrines, and discourses as frequently as my parents wanted. These discourses circled around attempts to unravel the mysteries locked in chapters of mythological enigma and tales of deities, reincarnations and astrology. The roots of Hindu mythology run deep; my own experiences as a child ranged from being fascinated and enlightened to lost and still seeking. I moved from India to the United States in order to pursue an undergraduate study in Fine Art Photography. The frequency with which I visited Hindu temples in what felt like my previous life, gradually got replaced with visits to art galleries, museums and studios, where creativity in all mediums of expression was revered and placed on a pedestal to honor. The museum in my life had now became the temple. As I dug deeper, I saw a lot of parallels between the museum and the temple. As devotees, as students, as artists we frequently visit what we regard our own temples of worship. We take our aspirations and desires to these places. We hope that a piece of art or a symbol of God will speak and send us a message.

This communication inspires us and helps show us our path in life. Sometimes our expectation filled visit disappoints us, but ultimately it’s our faith that keeps us going. While making the first image I discovered that what this project bridges for me, is that be it photography or spirituality, both need practice, faith and devotion.

Aside from stretching the boundaries of photography as a medium, Darshan showcases the ability of a photograph to evoke a spiritual response. This project also highlights and culturally preserves the heritage and artifacts from one of the oldest religions in the world. The nine deities that will be photographed are are Maa Laxmi and Lord Vishnu, Maa Durga and Lord Shiva, Maa Saraswati Lord Brahma, Lord Ganesh, Lord Hanuman and Maa Kali.

The first image created as a proof of concept is Maa Laxmi, the goddess of wealth and fortune. The creation of these photographic icons requires the most laborious and detail oriented study. It involves a 14 person crew that includes set & prop builders, makeup artists, art directors, painters, carpenters, jewelry experts and assistants. September 2011 will be spent in Mumbai creating four more images in the series. I encourage you to look at the link below to view a three minute video showing you the making of my first image.

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www.manjarisharma.com

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Emile Germiquet

Visions of Diepsloot

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More than 150 000 people live there; 150 000 people under the shadow of sickness, cold, violence, hunger, unemployment, survival.

Diepsloot, 30km North of Johannesburg, is a mass of shacks, dirt and people. Consisting of both formal and informal housing, it started in the mid 1990′s as a transitional resettlement area. While the relocation to the site was at first planned, it increasingly became a dumping ground for housing problems in the region. Most of these people were forcefully removed without due process and barely any warning. The recent waves of immigrants, many of them illegal, have added further complexity to the already difficult situation.

Inside Diepsloot, people are generous, most are poor, some are cruel, others kind, some use drugs, others alcohol and still many don’t touch either. Some go to church, others don’t believe in God, many don’t care much either way. Some people commit crimes, all are victims. Ordinary folks don’t go outdoors after nightfall and if they must, they hurry, worried they will fall prey to the lurking shadows. Some areas are too dangerous to venture into, even during the day.

Sickness is rife and death is common, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with.

Streets run with the overflow from blocked toilet pipes and dirty wash water.

Ethnic tension, like a current running beneath the skin, is always present, ready.

Work is hard to find.

Money is scarce; food, paraffin, clothes are all expensive.

Diepsloot means “deep ditch” in Afrikaans, a ditch from which it is difficult to egress.

Bio

Born in South Africa in 1981 to a white family, I grew up in the suburbs of Pretoria and witnessed from the distance of a child the last years of apartheid and the early years of the New South Africa; with all the hopes and fears that accompanied the change.
At the age of 17, I left a changing SA for France where I accomplished my tertiary education. In 2009, after having decided to pursue photography, I returned to SA in order to better understand the profound changes that have occurred over the past years. In 2010, I went to Diepsloot to investigate the reality of a large sub-population of the country; the neglected people of the Diepsloot.

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Emile Germiquet

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M. Scott Brauer

We Chinese

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“We Chinese” grew out of a curiosity to find out what Chinese people think about their country and their future.  Media coverage of the country and its development often raises questions about the direction of the government in Beijing on the world stage.  Few reports take into account the feelings of the Chinese people, instead making reference to the country as a monolithic actor without constituent parts.  A country’s trajectory through history cannot be mapped without careful consideration of the people.  This project aims, in a small way, to develop a portrait of the country by looking at the individual people that make it up.

I started the project as a way to respond to friends’, family’s, and strangers’ questions about the global direction of China and their stereotypes of the people. ‘Should we be scared of China?’ or ‘Where is China headed?’ or broad assertions about the collective character of billions of individuals that make up the country. The project aims to give faces and voices to a small section of the Chinese people caught in the center of historic shifts in the country’s socioeconomic circumstances. Recent years in China have been marked by mass migration toward urban centers, substantial increases in personal wealth, radical changes in the country’s educational and industrial sectors, and the start of China’s role as a global leader in political and economic matters.  Ordinary people, the subject of We Chinese, are caught in the middle of this unprecedented change. While the big story is this change itself, an important and often-overlooked aspect of modern China is what this cultural transformation means to the people and their future.

In 2010, I traveled throughout major urban centers in eastern China stopping people on the street to ask the same two questions about their country and their future. The respondents filled out a one-page typewritten questionnaire that included these two questions and some basic information including name, age, and occupation. The questions were interpreted variously, and the responses range from prosaic to poetic, from rote to inspired, and from unemotional to patriotic. While it’s difficult to draw conclusions about the entire population, the people photographed here expressed a sincere love of country and optimism about the country’s future development and peaceful position in the world.

The name ‘We Chinese’ comes from a phrase I encountered time and again when talking with Chinese people in China, both in Mandarin and English. Answers to questions about the person’s opinion about something or other would often begin with ‘We Chinese…’ (‘Wo men Zhong Guo ren’), instead of beginning with something like ‘I think…’

The project also comes from suspicions of my own methods in documentary work. My work imposes visual and written narratives on situations and cultures. By photographing anyone willing to be a part of the project, using the same set up for the portraits, and asking the same questions of all the subjects, I hoped a narrative about China and its people would naturally emerge.

The final project comprises 100 portraits and short interviews. The text and pictures are meant to be viewed simultaneously. The work has not previously been published, beyond on the website and blogs. Word of mouth has been tremendous, but I’m still looking for exhibition and publication opportunities for the project.

Translations by Heidi Wickersham, http://www.threeriverslanguage.com/

Bio

M. Scott Brauer is a photojournalist based in Cambridge, Massachusetts.  His work can be seen at: http://www.mscottbrauer.com/ and, along with Matt Lutton, he founded dvafoto.com, a blog about photojournalism.

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M. Scott Brauer

We Chinese

dvafoto blog