Photography as a Shield: #NotABugSplat

Ever since the invention of the still camera nearly two
centuries ago, the art of photography has been in a never-ending
state of change and adaptation. Through every kind of cultural and
technological upheaval, creative photographers have always found
new ways to inform, delight, and shock the public.

Today, in
the heavily-bombed Khyber Pakhtunkhwa region of Pakistan,
photography is taking on a new role: defending an entire village
from the possibility of an American drone strike. A group of
artists, working with Reprieve/Foundation for
Fundamental Rights, has made a single portrait of a child
that’s so massive, its every detail can be seen by predator drones
hovering over the region.

The project, called #NotABugSplat, takes its name from
the dehumanizing view of Pakistani landscape, as seen by drone
pilots. The oversized symbol of human innocence both warns against
future strikes and serves as memorial to
the nearly 200 children who’ve been killed in strikes since
2004.

The installation also stands in contrast to more traditional
forms of war photography. Although the content, purpose, and
intended audience of #NotABugSplat are worlds apart from the
photographs featured in daily news coverage of the region, the
effect is just as unsettling.

On August 2nd, 2013, Reason TV took a close look at the work of
Michael Kamber and Louie Palu, two prominent photojournalists
who’ve chronicled the past decade of war in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Like #NotABugSplat, the images of Kamber and Palu put a human face
on an otherwise remote and heavily censored conflict.

Original text follows:

“We were supposed to go into Iraq, hold elections, turn over the
keys, and get out,” says Michael Kamber, a photojournalist and
editor of the book Photojournalists on War: The Untold Stories from
Iraq. “That’s not how it works, and we need to think about that
next time we get involved in a military adventure.”

It is almost impossible to read Kamber’s new book without
reflecting on how many of its photographs were taken by people who
were either killed, severely injured, or taken captive during the
conflict. Kamber, who photographed the war over a ten year period,
counts himself among the survivors. His book is a testament not
only to eight years of brutal warfare, but to the 39 photographers
whose work is represented in its pages.

ReasonTV sat down with Kamber at WAR/PHOTOGRAPHY, an exhibit at
the Corcoran Gallery of Art, to hear the stories behind the
unforgettable photographs in his book. It’s an in-depth account of
the Iraq War from photojournalists who witnessed key events at
close range.

Many of the the book’s 160 images have been widely distributed,
their impact indelibly marked in the American mind. Other images,
which are just as powerful, have rarely been seen.
“Photojournalists on War” also includes compelling eyewitness
accounts of battles, the disintegration of soldiers’ marriages, and
the lasting effects of post-traumatic stress disorder.

While Kamber’s book chronicles the work of photojournalists who
were mostly backed by major publications, images of war are
increasingly made by enterprising individuals. In 2006,
photojournalist Louie Palu quit his job and traveled to Afghanistan
at his own risk and on his own dime. He had never covered a war
before. Working without the support — or the constraints — of an
editor meant that he was able to photograph with plenty of of
artistic freedom. His images are stunning, and it’s no surprise
that his series of portraits and panoramic black-and-white shots
reveal an Afghanistan that looks very different from most press
photography.

Palu is also producing “The Durrani Kings” a documentary about
his experiences photographing Kandahar province, the birthplace of
the Taliban.

Both Palu and Kamber remain skeptical of the wars they
witnessed. Broken promises and official censorship have led to a
public that remains poorly informed about war’s devastating effects
on ordinary civilians.

It’s often said that the truth is always the first casualty of
war. The images of Kamber and Palu are attempts to correct the
record.

The Corcoran exhibit continues until September 29.

Produced, shot, and edited by Todd Krainin.

Runs about 9 minutes.