Parting Shots

I underlined an excellent line in Camus' The Plague several years ago. I have not found it on the internet, and I don't have my copy here, though perhaps I should have tried harder. This one is close: "Thus, for example, a feeling normally as individual as the ache of separation from those one loves suddenly became a feeling in which all shared alike and-together with fear that the greatest affliction of the long period of exile that lay ahead." (Part 2)

Though this line describes a dire situation far worse than mine (as I have been blessed on this deployment), it speaks to a very common human emotion, one that defines, in part, every deployed experience. At the individual level, it describes the way I felt in Scotland; at the collective level, it describes the way soldiers and contractors feel in Afghanistan.

Distance is the distinction; psychology is the reason. Distance from loved ones causes a particular strain of agony, and the mind, to self-heal, reacts to this agony by figuratively deadening the nerves that allow us to perceive this longing. But longing is a symptom we feel as validation of our deepest commitments. The mind hardens, severs this connection, and trades our empathetic capacity for the ability to keep our heads down and drive forward.

This is not unique to deployed soldiers. I'm willing to argue that this phenomenon is at the heart of most failed relationships. For although distance may be the literal root cause for deployed soldiers, anything that causes emotional distance can be just a devastating.

'Maturity' is the talent required to stay this mental and emotional coup. To seek out ways to make oneself weaker is, at select times, a mature decision.

Anyway, these are the things that come to mind when I try to summarize my thoughts on this deployment. I have nothing dramatic to report-- no earth-shattering revelations of the human condition. Just a few observations that spring to mind. I figured I'd have more to say, but like everything under sun... it's been said before, probably by someone more eloquent than I.

I have a few more shots to develop, but I doubt we'll get those before I redeploy (come home). These pictures were probably taken in the September/ early-October timeframe.

If this is the last Afghanistan Series, I want to thank everyone for reading. I've had a relatively pleasant deployment experience. I was lucky to have the luxury of photography to keep me occupied and creatively engaged.

One day, if I ever commit to self-actualization, I'll finish that novel. Maybe then I'll look back on this experience and glean something of value to pass onto others. Until then, I can't want to get home.

Love,

Anthony

Afghanistan // Outtakes

Afghanistan Series // Running on Fumes

You hit the ground with such conviction and energy. The better of us sustain this for several months. The best of us tell the cynics that ‘to power forward despite setbacks’ is the absurd* gesture that just might penetrate the Afghan psyche. 

I try to be somewhere between the better and the best of us, but the twilight days of this deployment have really tried my cultural sensibilities and motivation.

Film exposed in Afghanistan takes about a month to reach the states. Then there are a few weeks to process and develop, and about a month for me to find the time to write up a post. When it’s all said and done, I look at the pictures taken way-back-when and I realize how much my attitude about Afghanistan has changed. Demeanors have changed, the ‘hey, would you like to be in a picture?’ doesn’t quite work like it used to. But these few images still capture the light-hearted playfulness of those early days. 

I introduced the time-wasting obsessions that soldiers dream up on deployments in an earlier volume. SPC Holz’s compound bow obsession happens to be one of my favorites. With nothing to shoot, he still gets incredible joy just holding and looking at his bow. This set also features some of our interpreters—each a wealth of information and fascinating stories.

You’re seeing Ektar 100 and Portra 400 here. So far, Ektar is my favorite daylight color negative film, but it seems my camera may be having shutter issues that affected my Portra rolls. The next batch will be exclusively Portra, so I’ll hold off my judgments until then

*‘Absurd’ is a sincere term of endearment to me.  

Afghanistan Series Vol. 4

The western world abandoned texture in the late 50s. For better or for worse, the modern design concept shares the aesthetic presumptions of a hospital. Machine-smoothed surfaces and mathematically perfect curves suggest order, cleanliness, simplicity, and secular ablution. One would not describe Afghanistan with these words.

Afghanistan remains pre-industrial in terms of both architectural capability and design concepts. Drop a modern building in Afghanistan. The Afghans can only comprehend it as a symbol of a symbol (in this case, the West). Their capabilities cannot yet sustain a culture that may, if it so chooses, nurture the ideas that give meaning and context to modern architecture. 

High ASA black and white film features massive grain and high-contrast for capturing texture. We hunted for texture and contrast (specifically in architecture) for this shoot. In retrospect, I probably should have grabbed some Afghans, but explaining the importance of being exactly still during long-exposure and low-light photography is sometimes more trouble than it’s worth. The grain effects here are all real-- no post-processing whatsoever. Special thanks to SPC Dailey for helping with this shoot. I gather he’s interested in taking up medium format film photography himself. Good for you; it’s a blast.

*Film: Delta Ilford 3200 pushed to 6400

The Tourist

 Anthony will be guest blogging for me for a few days. Enjoy the eccentric meanderings of Lisa V Lupo Photography’s most valued employee.

I may have just finished my most interesting roll of film to date. In the span of 15 frames, I captured a convoy (from the inside), a death celebration (almost like a post-funeral charity-event), and some assorted Afghan street scenes. [Expect to wait another month for the film to get sent, developed, and scanned.] For those that are queasy, be prepared for a few pictures of locals tearing strips of meat from a severed bull’s head. One elder waived an uncooked cow ankle at me, hoof included. Not really sure if that’s an invitation or warning.

At any rate, thank goodness for the latitude of Portra 400. I should get away with a few hasty draws.

Yes, I will sing the praises of film until my dying days, but only a fool brings a 37-year-old MF film camera on mission out-and-about in Afghanistan. There are easier ways to get the results you want. Which leads me to a simple and obvious revelation: film is for controlled situations, digital is for everything else.

Allow me to describe what I look for in a picture taken in Afghanistan. [I wish I had more pictures to show you, but Lisa hasn’t received my second batch of film yet. Film will teach you patience.]

1. Old or ‘Afghanned’ infrastructure. To ‘Afghan’ something is to find a creative and undoubtedly dangerous solution to an engineering problem. This is a term of endearment. If I had a super-telephoto lens, I’d capture a few shots of children climbing on burned out Toyota shells in the junkyard behind our compound. Tetanus anyone? I never pass up an opportunity snap a shot of decaying infrastructure— a bit of a cliché I admit. But Afghanistan serves these up on a desiccated platter.
   
   
   
    What you can't see in this picture: the broken glass littered all over the floor.
   
   
2. Soldier Portraits. I take the same approach to soldier portraits as portraits of American civilians. I want the soldier to look at his picture years from now and fail to force back a smirk. Most of the pictures I take are facetious or tie into an inside joke that has come to characterize the soldier’s personality. Then there are classic portraits (those that are simply aesthetically appealing), and those that incorporate some narrative or editorial aspect. Certain soldiers are better suited for these latter portraits than others. I should be doing a wounded-warrior-type editorial shoot in the next few days. These photos are the most difficult. I’ve found you have to walk a fine line between melodrama and interesting. I’ve found that reality can be frustratingly melodramatic at times.
   
   

   
   
   
3. Afghans, especially Elders. Tight, close portraits of older Afghans are especially telling. The turbulence of the last 50 years of Afghanistan is, to borrow a phrase, ‘etched in the scars and deep wrinkles of their faces.’ They are a fascinating portrait subject. Most Afghans love having their pictures taken, so these shots are common and fairly easy. Explaining to them that I’m using a film camera that doesn’t display the picture on an LCD screen, however, is much more difficult.
   
   
   
    Notice the little flower in his hand. These portraits are teeming with interesting subtleties. Hopefully Lisa gets my others soon.
   
   
4. War Icons. I love taking pictures of items that have come to symbolize this era of warfare: HESCO barriers, concertina wire, bullet-holes, ‘ECM-off’ signs, military working dogs, etc. Many of these items will soon fade into obscurity, like the C-rations or Lucky Strikes of old.
   
   
   
    The whole 'concrete barrier over gravel' design concept probably won't catch on stateside, fortunately.
   
   
5. Anything else of interest. I am an amateur photographer. My approach is not results-driven (here at least). I experiment for the sake of it. So I like to try different lighting situations, films, etc.

 

 I love film color.

The NVG bag tied to my kit contains an outmoded and ungainly photographic relic. While I might look like a tourist, I’m without a doubt more intellectually engaged with my surroundings than those around me. The world is fundamentally different through a waist-level finder, which is why photography in Afghanistan is as much a performance art as anything else.

Epilogue

It takes roughly a month to develop a roll of film shot in Afghanistan, which is why all the pictures above (with the exception of one, guess which?) have been recycled from previous shoots. Allow me to explain: no one (reputable) develops film in Afghanistan. This means that my film has to travel from Afghanistan to the US by mail. This can take up to three-weeks. (Side note: Mail sent to Afghanistan arrives in roughly one week, or three times as fast by comparison.) When Lisa receives my film, she has to send it to a professional photo lab, in our case, Richard's Photo Labs in SoCal (another 2-3 days). There's roughly a 5-business day turnaround from RPL before the scans are available for download. All told, this process takes about a month. On the horizon, however, should be a series of Portra 160 and 400 portraits and some experimental shots taken with Ilford 3200 black & white pushed to 6400. I'm very excited for the Ilford to come out: should be pretty grainy and edgy.

Film Prints

Just got the prints and negatives from RPL yesterday. I'm so impressed...and thankful we ordered prints because Lord knows we'd never get around to printing them ourselves. We haven't even printed out any of our wedding photos! No album. No nothing. Just digital files. (It's on my list of things to do...it's only a matter of time). It's a totally different feeling when you hold prints in your hands and not just look at them through a computer. Goodness, I'm growing fonder of film every passing day.

Afghanistan Series // Vol. III

Here today is Anthony. He's going to be really modest with his first set of pictures because he knows he can do better...but I think these shots are fantastic! He'll tell you, "these are not as good because it was before I had my light meter" or "it was before I had my waist level finder." But I can't get enough of these pictures and I can't wait until he sends his next batch of film. You can catch up on Anthony's other posts by clicking here for vol. 1 and here for vol. 2. These photos were processed and scanned at Richard Photo Lab in Hollywood, CA. Without further ado, here is Anthony's take:

So here we have it: the best shots (I can put on the internet) from my first two rolls of Ektar 100. The color isn't quite what I expected from Ektar, but it is pleasant nonetheless. 

Afghanistan begs to have its picture taken-- literally and figuratively. Maybe it's a photography cliche, but dilapidated buildings and broken glass make for an excellent portrait background. I only have a few photos here (more are in the mail), but if a picture is to tell a story, or give expression to 'the art of one's life' (as Lisa's website suggests), then disrepair and urban decay are very suggestive backdrops to use. Think of the service members you know. Many come from rough backgrounds, and most conceive of the military as a stable job predicated on a very violent and chaotic premise. Others came for a sense of adventure-- to operate and survive on the kinetic fringe of the third world. Cliches? Stereotypes? Maybe, but that's the way many see it. Military service pressures men to place their anxieties in one of a few boxes. The cliche is a piece of a very real and interesting slice of the human condition.

These are the kinds of things we can think about when we take portraits in a setting that may not be, conventionally speaking, 'beautiful.' This is why Afghanistan is an interesting place to take pictures from an artistic-- rather than just an editorial-- point of view.