issue018

a Boy in Dunkirk

PHOTOGRAPHY AND TEXT BY BERT STEPHANI

20171008_dunkirk-portrait_019.jpg

This boy used to live a completely normal, safe life in a nice house in Iraqi Kurdistan. Now, he lives in a tent in the bushes near Dunkirk, France. Every night, he hopes the French police doesn't come to slash their tent to pieces or empty a can of mace in it.

His father used to be a chef at a restaurant, now he depend completely on the goodwill of others to feed his family. The boy is not sure why they left their friends and family to live in a tent in a cold country where he can't go to school. The father on the other hand was given other options than to live an illegal life in Europe. He could have paid a lot of money to be left alone, not knowing when they would come again for more money that he didn't have. Or he could have chosen to have his family killed by someone who felt they had the wrong ethnicity or religion. 

This boy, his two younger brothers (the youngest is just 10 months old) and his parents were forced to go on a dangerous three month journey to Europe. They paid 25.000 dollars to human traffickers for this perilous journey. They can see the UK across the North Sea from where they are living now. But it will take another 25.000 dollars to MAYBE get to some of their friends and family who live there. In case you are wondering if the Brexit has already had an impact on the economy: yes it has, the traffickers have raised their rates considerably since the referendum.

Yet, this boy was happy to show us how the refugees try to keep the area clean, how they help each other out, how happy he was with the bag of old clothes we brought. And while he played football with my own son, I sat down with his dad. He shared his family's story and his hope that this boy and his brothers will one day live a normal life again. When I ask him about the future, he can only shrug— but he still believes humanity will one day prevail for his family and all the other refugees.

I visited Dunkirk together with my girlfriend Griet. We were deeply impressed by how much it ment to these people to have their existence acknowledged by a portrait and have their stories heard. On the way home, we decided to take it a step further and start a project around documenting refugee stories. We are still figuring out everything from logistics to our approach, but I'll keep you posted about our project.

Here are some more of the portraits that I made that day in Dunkirk:

Pushing The Darkness

001_CLARK_PushingDarkness.jpg
For every bit of light, there is dark
For every bit of white, there is Black.
For every bit of colour, there is grey
For every bit of hope, there is a question mark.

PHOTOGRAPHY & TEXT By Derek Clark

It seems to me the more light in your life and the longer that light lasts, the darker it will eventually get. It’s as if we have an equal amount of good times and bad times, joy and sadness. Which could mean the longer and happier the good times, the more you better be ready for the bad. 

The further you coast downhill, the further you have to drag your shit back up the next hill. The warmer the summer the bleaker the winter. Could this be the way life and the universe works?

The past year has been especially bleak for the Clark family. It all started with my sister being diagnosed with a brain tumor back in November 2016 (Click here for my previous post on that news). That was followed closely by a couple of deaths in the family and then my dad was taken into hospital. Then came 2017 and a stroke for my dad, followed by two recent heart attacks within a week. There's more, but I don't want you reaching for the razor-blades. 

But at this point, my sister has completed a full round of radiotherapy and is now three-quarters of the way through a year of chemotherapy. It's too early to know just how successful both treatments have been, but fingers crossed for the best possible outcome. My dad had two stents inserted to prevent more heart attacks and he seems to be doing well.

But what has all this to do with photography? A lot it seems. Creativity doesn't like trauma and worries at all. Personal work is the first casualty, because that's the stuff that takes a good bit of 'get up and go' to produce, work that doesn't have any immediate consequence if it doesn't get done. Paid work is fine because you get the call, put your gear in the car and go do the shoot. Your worries fade into the background while you get into the zone on a job.

These pictures were made on a recent trip in the north of Scotland. I've been shooting in-camera black and whites recently using Fujifilm's Acros film simulation. My X-Pro2 and X-100F are set to a high contrast version of Acros as default right now and that's what I get when I turn the cameras on. I exposed for the light on these shots to avoid blowing the highlights, but it wasn't until later that I realized these pictures represent this past year. The darkness engulfs, and the distant hope of light feels so out of reach.

Wunderlust

By Kevin Mullins

"It's a quarter after one and I need you now" said Lady Antebellum

My fellow Kage colleagues this month have produced some amazingly compelling stories with strong messages and beautiful imagery.

As with last month, I'm struggling to put anything here that is not wedding photography.  For wedding photography is what feeds my family.

However, as I pondered the last couple of months, I realised that I've flown around 11 times, and on Monday I'll be flying again.

I've shot weddings all over Europe and spoken at conferences in New York and across Europe too.

All in the last couple of months.

"You're lucky".  They say.  And I am.  I really am.  

I appreciate everything that comes my way both in commercial terms and wanderlust pacifying terms. 

This weekend is my first Saturday here in Malmesbury since our family vacation in August.  And it's made me think.

I've seen a lot of hotel rooms recently.

I've seen a lot of characters on the streets of different cities.

I've even given a presentation on the same stage as the legendary David Alan Harvey.

But I haven't hardly seen my family.

My wife is patient, beautiful and kind.  My children are understanding (and love the Hershey’s  chocolates I bring back).  But I've missed them.

My business is one of making pictures and education.  This won't change, and I am happy with the twists and turns of my chosen road.

But I'm looking forward now to a few months of time in the same world as my real world.  

The real world for me, is in my home and through necessity I've vacated that world probably too often this last couple of months.

And so, to home.... love, laughter and the occasional huge row, tears before bedtime and washing up dishes :-)

Vote Yes / Vote No / Vote Now

Vote Yes / Vote No / Vote Now

It all could have been so simple.

For the last two years - and even more so in the past few months - the Australian Government has been struggling with the question of same-sex marriage, and if/when/how to legalise it within this modern, developed, and yet conservative, country. 

With recent polling showing something over 70% public support for marriage equality, it seemed like a slam dunk - any government who passed such a bill would, you'd think, get a boost in popularity…

Ophelia 2049

Photography and words by Jonas Dyhr Rask

It happens every 20 years or so, that a tropical hurricane takes a different path through the atlantic, and instead of dying out over Greenland, it goes sightseeing in northern europe. Hurricane Ophelia recently took this path. It blew over Ireland, but it dragged along a cloud of the Sahara sands mixed with smoke from wildfires in Portugal. 

Three incidents all mixed into one coherent point in time. On October 16th, 2017 around 4 o'clock in the afternoon it rolled over London. What immediately followed was a light so different, so outer-worldly, that it looked like the coming of the Apocalypse. 

Finding my way back

By Patrick La Roque

I stood in front of an audience yesterday, extolling the merits of finding beauty in the everyday, of expressing ideas and emotions through photography, of honing our reflexes through this constant act of seeing. And I did it after several weeks of barely glancing at my own camera. It felt odd.

Sometimes you just stop looking. Because life, because work...because it seems as though you’ve said all there is to say and the well is dry. Our kids are growing up, the dynamics of our lives are changing—there’s a new learning curve. Like someone changed the locks on me while I wasn’t looking...and I can’t find the damn key.

I’m giving another talk this afternoon...two more next week in another city, closer to home. I took a walk this morning, to clear my head and get some breakfast. Now I pick up the camera and push myself to see again. A few tentative steps

to find my way back.

7x018

Mr. Purple
Jonas Dyhr Rask | X100F - 23mm - ISO1250 - f/3.6 - 1/60s

Berlin ScreamDerek Clark | X70 - 18.5mm - ISO2500 - f/5.6 - 1/500s

Berlin Scream
Derek Clark | X70 - 18.5mm - ISO2500 - f/5.6 - 1/500s

JenBert Stephani | GFX50S - 63mm - ISO160 - f/4 - 1/125s

Jen
Bert Stephani | GFX50S - 63mm - ISO160 - f/4 - 1/125s

LAROQUE-november-02.jpg

Too much sun for Halloween
Patrick La Roque | X100F. 1/4700 at f/2.0, ISO 200.

Victorian Spring, MelbourneRobert Catto | X-T2, 35mm f/1.4. 1/1900 at f/2.8, ISO 400.

Victorian Spring, Melbourne
Robert Catto | X-T2, 35mm f/1.4. 1/1900 at f/2.8, ISO 400.

My New York ViewKevin Mullins | X-E3, 23mm f/2. 1/320 at f/5.6, ISO 200.

My New York View
Kevin Mullins | X-E3, 23mm f/2. 1/320 at f/5.6, ISO 200.