Worth a thousand words...

6 months ago

The photos and video works presented in Foam is based on real war situations and videos that are violent in nature and contain realistic sounds of war, which
can be experienced as traumatic by some visitors.

The sign sat just outside the photo gallery of the 2nd floor of FOAM. It was written in fine font, on a large sheet of paper, held up on a beautiful aluminium stand. I stood in front of it, wiping the aluminium parts with thumb and wondered if I'd be one of the "some visitors" the sign mentioned.

The beauty of photography is that it can be either beautiful or ugly, or sometimes both. But they always carry a message. In this photo exhibition I saw many messages, in form of photos. Some have been dug from many years back, and some as recent as 2021.

This exhibition was of photos collected from around wartorn places in the Middle East. They tell a very ugly story. But I also found many other things interesting, for example commonalities brtween each story (including mine), and how these countries looked years ago and how they look now.

A lot of these stories would be buried in ruble and would never be heard of or passed on to future generations. But simply because someone was fond of a camera, or thought they would document what they see, or use photography as an artistic escape, today we know a little more about these stories.

This is part of the The Martyrs collection. It is a very intriguing collection of photos. If you take a closer look at the photos, it becomes evident that the people are dressed in an older fashion and the photos themselves have a retro look.

That is not because of a filter, and the people aren't wearing costumes. The original collection is of 1000 photos dated between 1980 to 1988. The artist found her uncle's collection of photos during the pandemic when she was stuck at home.

The photos are mainly of friends and family, and from burial grounds during the Iran-Iraq war. She retook the photos and added a glare to faces of the soldiers- the Martyrs. This was done to protect their identities and also give them the "daraja"(Arabic word for level, status, respect) of saints. She found similarities in the desperation of times between the lockdown and the war, as well as the criticism of the government shared between these two periods of time.

This was a very interesting exhibition and I still cannot believe it has been documented. For many, this is an easily recognizable map. It wasn't for me. However, for me the story was relatable.

The map is from a very popular game called PUBG. On the entrance to this exhibition, the map is shown, with handwritten notes on it. Some are very straightforward and related solely to the game, but some felt like they had double meanings. Attached to the maps were strings that highlighted first-person screenshot from the game being played. Nothing about this map from a game makes any sense until you go further and watch the video...

The story is both an extremely sad one and also a happy one. It is a story of two brothers, who got lost from each other during the Syrian war, and lost communication, but more importantly the chance to be...brother. The chance to do brotherly things.

The blue photos are called cyanotypes. It is a special kind of photography that is created by ultraviolet lights. The type of light that cannot be seen by human eye. The artist created these photos in this specific style because his brother had mentioned "my eyes have turned blue" when he had jokingly, in game, had said that the brother looked different.

They found the bond between each other through the game. After finding contact, they spent hours, from different parts of the world, to come together and bond and create memories through the game. I believe one of the brother was still in Syria because in one part of the video he says something in Arabic along the lines of "They're bombing again", and trust me it wasn't part of the game.

The only reason I relate to this, and it doesn't come close to being as special, is because I also found a long lost friend through a game. It was over 9 years of no contact and suddenly we were playing on the same team and he recognised me from my gamer tag. That is why I cam imagine how special this simple gaming moments were for these two brothers.

The morning after the explosion, I couldn't believe I was still alive.I took my camera and went to the streets. (On one hand, I wanted to show from a local point of view what was happening to us. On the other hand, I felt like we had to listen to each other and help each other, more than ever.) Taking pictures has always been a way for me to get closer to reality. I was trying to realize whathad happened to us. Because it was all too much. It still is all too much. It is more than anything our small brains and big hearts can take in.

The collection of pictures from the Lebanon explosion were so difficult to look at. Especially because of the messages that were around the pictures. It made all of it a bit too real. It hit a little too close to home.

I have highlighted this message next to the picture of the wounded guy because of how much it made me feel like...it was a mirror. I read it and thought "this is me". I remember the first explosion, and how I wanted to realize it, escape it, document it, and help others, all at the same time.

It is always the same, isn't it? People suffer. Places may be different, stories even, but the suffering is the same.

I have decided to not post all pictures because I'm not sure what sort of emotions it could evoke. It was hard for me and I don't think I want others to feel the same.
I can say that the exhibition made it even clearer to me why these photos are important, even if on an amateur level, and why stories should never be buried. They speak the truth that is always pushed away and hidden. A personal truth that turns people into numbers and statistics or headlines.