It is often difficult to put into words the feeling of inspiration... what sticks in your gut, touches your soul, and enlivens you to keep searching. It's the energy you get after a 10-hour day, when you have to wake up at 5am the next, but regardless get home late and keep doing the thing that drives you. Tonight, I had the honor and privilege of watching Don McCullin speak at the Xposure film festival in Sharjah, and write this in a cloudy spell of awe in my hotel room. Don is a handsome man in his 80's, cleanly shaven with a sharp suit, and wears the solemn face of a person who has seen it all. His honesty and ability to openly express himself is what moved me, often tormented by the decades of war and human psychosis he has witnessed through photography. I don't find often that you are able to glimpse into someone's soul in such a way, especially in a room with one-hundred other people. An image that stands out in my mind is of Don editing rolls of film in his dark room, these morose photographs of humanity, isolating himself from the rest of the world to grieve; to slay himself in the dark while giving into the somber symphonies of the classical music he listens to with each edit. What intensely personal, meditative moments to share with us. But perhaps for him it is salvation in witnessing so much sadness, and helps him wash away the dirtiness he described feeling after coming home from assignments.
I'm not alone in wondering what it is that continues to drive war photographers, if they are simply adrenaline junkies, if they're slightly twisted, and if they are actually invested in the human struggle. Why put yourself in danger? What's wrong with someone who can visually portray the most horrific moments with elegance? Don explained that to compose a photograph in these situations one cannot be rejected by the horror; you cannot view these images in comfort, but to do justice to the scene each moment should be shown with dignity, with practice and grace. Where video crews are able to get quick bits of information that flash before a screen and are gone, and have the tendency to be viewed as media entertainment, still-photographs can penetrate information. Photographs have the potential to stew in your mind and can effect your thinking about the world you live in. Don's path was always driven by his love for photography, and I will quote this, because I often struggle with the same feeling for purpose: "My biggest fear is to do something without passion." In his self-deprecating manner, Don repeated he does not believe he's impacted the world--that it's more doomed now than ever before, and to me that comment is really what struck. If that's the case, this dark life of his, arguably, may have been for what purpose? To counter that, though, I like to hope he's given the public information to come to a better common existence as we grow to understand what we're capable of. An incredible man with an incredible story, I'm thankful for tonight.
A shell-shocked US Marine in the Battle of Hue, 1968, Don McCullin