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Showing posts with label Sara Terry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sara Terry. Show all posts

Books Sara Terry: 2017 Best Books Sara Terry Selects Beyond Drifting: Imperfectly Known Animals, War Sand, and The Family Imprint as the Best Books of 2017
Sara Terry
Sara Terry is an award-winning documentary photographer best known for her work covering post-conflict stories. She is a Guggenheim Fellow in Photography, for her long-term project, Forgiveness and Conflict: Lessons from Africa. She is also the founder and director of The Aftermath Project, and the publisher of 10(X) Editions, a micro press of handmade and limited edition photo books

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Books Sara Terry: 2016 Best Books Sara Terry Selects Come to Selfhood, Signs of Your Identity, and American Motel Signs as the Best Books of 2016
Sara Terry
Sara Terry is an award-winning documentary photographer best known for her work covering post-conflict stories. She is a Guggenheim Fellow in Photography, for her long-term project, Forgiveness and Conflict: Lessons from Africa. She is also the founder and director of The Aftermath Project, and the publisher of 10(X) Editions, a micro press of handmade and limited edition photo books.



The Rape of a Nation, Photographs by Marcus Bleasdale.
Published by Schilt Publishing, 2010.
The Rape of a Nation
Reviewed by Sara Terry
______________________________________
 Marcus Bleasdale The Rape of a Nation
Photographs by Marcus Bleasdale. Foreword by John Le Carré.
Schilt Publishing, 2010. Hardbound. 240 pp., 117 duotone illustrations, 6-3/4x9."

I've been a fan of Marcus Bleasdale ever since I first heard the story, years ago, of how he became a photographer. With a degree in finance and economics, he'd wound up working in London after college -- with some doubts, as I recall, about the moral code of his profession. Things came to a head the day a colleague walked into the office after some particularly horrendous conflict had hit the news and said, "I wonder how much the price of gold will go up?" as a result of the crisis. That was the breaking point for Bleasdale. He quit that day and never looked back -- going on to get a post-graduate diploma in photojournalism, and from there to years of passionate coverage of the Democratic Republic of the Congo and the consequences resulting from the conflict and greed. I admire the man, and his commitment to bringing these stories to a global audience.

I have to admit to my own biases here -- as a photographer who works in color, and has worked in many post-conflict settings in Africa, I often tire of the endless portrayals, in gritty black-and-white, of the "darkness" of this amazing continent, its disasters, wars, famines and diseases. My experience has shown me far more life, far more spirit, far more determination, than what is captured in many of these earnest reportages. That said, Bleasdale's work still stands for me as a compelling, honorable -- and model -- documentation of one of the most critical human rights stories in Africa.

The Rape of a Nation, by Marcus Bleasdale. Published by Schilt Publishing, 2010.
Bleasdale's photos are beautifully composed, quietly elegant and always full of compassion for his subjects. In these pages, he creates a sweeping tale of the DRC, opening with his well-known photos of forced-labor gold mining, and moving through conflict and child soldiers, displaced persons' camps, street children, contentious presidential elections, cholera and malaria, the rape of women, and closing finally with somber images of burials.

As sobering as the images (and their brief accompanying captions in the black margins of the pages) are, there is often a deft sensibility at work here, one that captures beauty and humanity, in the midst of dire situations. One of my favorites is the photo of the young child soldier, riding a bicycle down a dirt road, back to his base. With gun slung over his back, he struggles to control the bike - which is too big for him -- a glimpse of innocence in the most inhumane of conditions. Equally powerful is the image of the body of a dead government soldier in the road; Bleasdale frames the image so that the body is barely visible, and the background out of focus. Instead of the horror of death, he draws us to the man's forearm, which rises in the middle of the frame, fingers gently folded in a loose fist. For the briefest of moments, we are allowed to remember what it means to be human, that this could be a man contentedly stretched out on the ground, hand moving towards the sky, contemplating life -- not death.

The Rape of a Nation, by Marcus Bleasdale. Published by Schilt Publishing, 2010.
 The book's design, beautiful in its understatement, is by Teun van der Heijden, who is by far the most interesting designer working with photographers today (Black Passport by Stanley Greene; Diamond Matters by Kadir von Lohuizen). The black-bordered pages (each photo lays out across two pages) are interleaved with white, vertical half-pages of text -- interviews with individuals who are named on the reverse of each chilling statement. A sharply observed foreword by novelist John Le Carre serves as both background and commentary to the photos that follow.

The Rape of a Nation, by Marcus Bleasdale. Published by Schilt Publishing, 2010.
 In the current debate flying in the photojournalism community about conflict photographers - why are the photographers the story these days, and not their subjects? Do they get too much glory? Does their much-lauded work lead editors to the neglect of quieter equally important stories? Bleasdale's work stands as a quiet testament to the best of his field, as does his own integrity. Not only has he committed himself to a long-term project, producing a remarkable series of images, he has devoted himself to making sure his subjects ARE the story -- partnering with groups like Human Rights Watch to tell the story of the DRC, to keep its people in the news and on the minds of legislators who have the power to act.—Sara Terry



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Sara Terry A former staff correspondent for the Christian Science Monitor and magazine freelance writer, Sara Terry made a mid-career transition into documentary photography in the late 1990s. Her long-term project about the aftermath of war in Bosnia -- “Aftermath: Bosnia’s Long Road to Peace” -- was published in September 2005 by Channel Photographics, and was named as one of the best photo books of the year by Photo District News. Her work has been widely exhibited, at such venues as the United Nations, the Museum of Photography in Antwerp, and the Moving Walls exhibition at the Open Society Institute. She is the founder of The Aftermath Project (www.theaftermathproject.org), a non-profit grant program which helps photographers cover the aftermath of conflict. She is currently directing and producing "Fambul Tok," a documentary about a post-conflict forgiveness and reconciliation program in Sierra Leone, which recently won a grant from the Sundance Documentary Institute. bosniaaftermath.com 
Colstrip, Montana, Photographs by David T. Hanson.
Published by Taverner Press, 2010.
Colstrip, Montana
Reviewed by Sara Terry
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David T. Hanson Colstrip, Montana
Photographs by David T. Hanson. Introduction by Rick Bass. Text by David T. Hanson.
Taverner Press, 2010. Hardbound. 200 pp., 87 color illustrations, 11-3/4x9-3/4".
 
David Hanson's photos of the coal-mining town and landscape of Colstrip, Montana, are as sobering now as they were when John Szarkowski chose to exhibit them at the Museum of Modern Art in 1986. A native of Montana, Hanson set out to document the disturbing realities of one of the largest coal mining facilities in North America and the town that supports it - located just 100 miles from where he grew up.

Images from this well-known body of work have been exhibited widely since the MOMA show, but the original 66 photos have rarely been shown together. With this book, Hanson brings this work - plus 21 new images - into a permanent record. It is a devastating judgment on the havoc wreaked by man on the environment, and is as timely today as it was 25 years ago.

Hanson, of course, has much in common with the work of the New Topographics photographers whose landmark show preceded his own MOMA exhibition by a decade. Like those photographers, he is not preoccupied with romanticizing or idealizing nature - his focus is on the environment left behind by man's interaction with it.

Colstrip, Montana, by David T. Hanson. Published by Taverner Press, 2010.
The book opens with a series of strong aerial photographs - carefully composed images that track the coal mine's activities. What at first looks like a child's finger painting or primitive clay modeling on a canvas is actually the landscape. The images then move into a series of aerial frames that begin to show the actual plant, and the waste ponds that surround it - and the tracts of housing that snuggle right up to those contaminated ponds.

Colstrip, Montana, by David T. Hanson. Published by Taverner Press, 2010.
Colstrip, Montana, by David T. Hanson. Published by Taverner Press, 2010.
Gradually, Hanson brings our perspective down to earth, literally, with images of the houses built for workers, and the RV parks that also serve as housing - with the omnipresent factory, or huge power lines, towering above.

The absence of people is true to Hanson's vision and purposeful in its unsettling effect. He gives us no human presence to reassure us of some kind of life; instead he forces us into one bleak landscape after another, allowing nature to occasionally assert an untouched, though painful beauty, as with the partial rainbow that arches against dark, late afternoon clouds.

Next, Hanson tackles the plant itself, in its stark, eerie images that are ominous in their stillness. And finally, he pulls back again, back to aerials of the landscape that has been so wounded and the book crescendos with the images that have become among his best-known: a series of photos that look like acid-washed abstract paintings. These frames carry the anguished tension of Edvard Munch's The Scream, and stand alongside that great work as a cry against our horrific abuse of the world, begging for our wise stewardship instead of mindless greed.—Sara Terry

 
Sara Terry A former staff correspondent for the Christian Science Monitor and magazine freelance writer, Sara Terry made a mid-career transition into documentary photography in the late 1990s. Her long-term project about the aftermath of war in Bosnia -- “Aftermath: Bosnia’s Long Road to Peace” -- was published in September 2005 by Channel Photographics, and was named as one of the best photo books of the year by Photo District News. Her work has been widely exhibited, at such venues as the United Nations, the Museum of Photography in Antwerp, and the Moving Walls exhibition at the Open Society Institute. She is the founder of The Aftermath Project (www.theaftermathproject.org), a non-profit grant program which helps photographers cover the aftermath of conflict. She is currently directing and producing "Fambul Tok," a documentary about a post-conflict forgiveness and reconciliation program in Sierra Leone, which recently won a grant from the Sundance Documentary Institute. bosniaaftermath.com
Where Children Sleep, Photographs by James Mollison
Published by Chris Boot, 2010.
Where Children Sleep
Reviewed by Sara Terry
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James Mollison Where Children Sleep
Photographs by James Mollison.
Chris Boot, 2010. Hardbound. 120 pp., 112 color illustrations, 8-3/4x11".

I know I'm supposed to like this book.

After all, James Mollison's portraiture work is widely respected in the art world. His exhibitions are always well-received and he's published several successful books -- including The Disciples, his book about fans of rock bands, which has drawn rave reviews for its clever portrayal of music lovers who mimic their idols. There's also Mollison's strangely intimate project, James and Other Great Apes, which for me is his most interesting work, with its intense close-ups of the amazingly expressive faces of apes.

But there's something about Where Children Sleep that leaves me cold. The book features portraits of children and their bedrooms from 16 countries around the world, including the US, Nepal, Brazil, Senegal, China and Mexico. Each portrait is accompanied with a short text about the child's life, written in a deliberately child-like structure of simple, to-the-point sentences. (The book's intended audience is readers of all ages but according to the cover notes, the text is targeted to nine to thirteen year-olds). Mollison says he hopes, "this book will help children think about inequality, within and between societies around the world, and perhaps start to figure out how, in their own lives, they may respond."

Where Children Sleep, by James Mollison. Published by Chris Boot, 2010.
 Perhaps nine to thirteen year-olds will respond to this book; perhaps teachers will be able to use the photos and text to talk about disparities between rich and poor, haves and have-nots. The book certainly features a range of children - from a Jewish boy living in an Israeli settlement in the occupied West Bank to a girl who works in a quarry with her family in Kathmandu; from a four-year-old beauty pageant queen in Kentucky to a mohawked punk in southern Scotland.

Where Children Sleep, by James Mollison. Published by Chris Boot, 2010.
 But for me, there's a contrivance to the whole undertaking that just doesn't sit right. Mollison has used his signature blank backdrop to make each portrait (to show each child as equal, as a child, he says), and has then shot an arranged still life of each child's bedroom. It served him well with The Disciples, but here it feels forced, and many of the children look downright freakish; I don't know that I'm seeing the child's truth as much as I'm seeing whatever "truth" Mollison wants to project on them. He's chosen children with an array of interests, backgrounds and privileges (or not), setting them up as archetypes when in fact they seem to be more like stereotypes. The whole idea of showing bedrooms as a way to tell a story also seems contrived - it's an approach that's been done to death and there just doesn't seem to be anything fresh in it here other than that a beggar's bedroom isn't nearly as well-equipped as one of a kid who lives on Fifth Avenue in New York City.

Where Children Sleep, by James Mollison. Published by Chris Boot, 2010.
 Mollison's reach for a children's audience carries through the book's design - a padded cover and child-like graphics and fonts for the titles and end pages. Perhaps that's ultimately what doesn't ring true for me: Mollison wants to reach children, but the endeavor feels too forced, too much like an adult who's telling you to be sure to eat your spinach.—Sara Terry

Sara Terry A former staff correspondent for the Christian Science Monitor and magazine freelance writer, Sara Terry made a mid-career transition into documentary photography in the late 1990s. Her long-term project about the aftermath of war in Bosnia -- “Aftermath: Bosnia’s Long Road to Peace” -- was published in September 2005 by Channel Photographics, and was named as one of the best photo books of the year by Photo District News. Her work has been widely exhibited, at such venues as the United Nations, the Museum of Photography in Antwerp, and the Moving Walls exhibition at the Open Society Institute. She is the founder of The Aftermath Project (www.theaftermathproject.org), a non-profit grant program which helps photographers cover the aftermath of conflict. She is currently directing and producing "Fambul Tok," a documentary about a post-conflict forgiveness and reconciliation program in Sierra Leone, which recently won a grant from the Sundance Documentary Institute. bosniaaftermath.com
A Million Shillings, Photographs by Alixandra Fazzina. 
Published by Trolley, 2008.
A Million Shillings: Escape from Somalia
Reviewed by Sara Terry
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Alixandra Fazzina A Million Shillings: Escape from Somalia
Photographs by Alizandra Fazzina.
Trolley, London, 2008. Hardbound. 248 pp., 100 color illustrations, 6-3/4x9".

Alixandra Fazzina made several brave choices in creating A Million Shillings: Escape from Somalia, a two-year-long project about the tens of thousands of Somalian and Ethiopian refugees and migrants who each year literally risk everything in their search for a better life.

First, of course, was the sheer bravery required to create such an exhaustive documentation of the extreme perils faced by these travelers on every step of their journey. Fleeing violence and poverty in search of a better life across the Gulf of Aden to the Arabian Peninsula, these refugees and migrants must survive robbers and rapists, human traffickers, desperate living conditions and a sea voyage in dangerous, overcrowded vessels to reach the shores of Yemen. And with the exception of traveling at sea with them (which would have been sheer lunacy), Fazzina is there every step of the treacherous way, painfully close (without ever being exploitive) -- so that we, too, are close, uncomfortably close, to these desperate individuals and all that they endure to have a chance to make it. Fazzina is there in the midst of it all and does not allow us to turn away.

A Million Shillings, by Alixandra Fazzina. Published by Trolley, 2008.
 But Fazzina has also made another very brave choice in making this book -- one that is not about physical danger, but is nonetheless a bravery that I deeply admire. She has dared to break one of the cardinal rules of photography books: instead of compiling a tight edit of one stunning photograph after another, she has laid out a sprawling selection of photos here, including many that are simply average.

A Million Shillings, by Alixandra Fazzina. Published by Trolley, 2008.

 That Fazzina can make strong photographs is clear, and there are many here: the portrait of a woman whose face is reflected in the screen of a broken television set; the stark beach scene of the bodies of those who did not survive the voyage; the dark, moody shot of refugees and migrants forced at gunpoint into a human chain, tugging on ropes in an attempt to free a smuggler's beached boat. But along with these and other accomplished photographs, she includes a wide spread of images that do not show off her skills as a photographer. These less interesting images, however, are critical to the story -- a meticulously compiled series of photographs, with detailed text by Fazzina, which taken all together create a lengthy, compelling, and ultimately irrefutable testament to a story that deserves global attention.

A Million Shillings, by Alixandra Fazzina. Published by Trolley, 2008.
 In other words, Fazzina has consciously subjugated her own ego -- set aside the compulsion that drives most photographers when creating a monograph -- and devoted herself to a dense, relentless articulation of one of the most pressing humanitarian issues of our time. It is work that demands our attention -- and our admiration.—Sara Terry






Sara Terry A former staff correspondent for the Christian Science Monitor and magazine freelance writer, Sara Terry made a mid-career transition into documentary photography in the late 1990s. Her long-term project about the aftermath of war in Bosnia -- “Aftermath: Bosnia’s Long Road to Peace” -- was published in September 2005 by Channel Photographics, and was named as one of the best photo books of the year by Photo District News. Her work has been widely exhibited, at such venues as the United Nations, the Museum of Photography in Antwerp, and the Moving Walls exhibition at the Open Society Institute. She is the founder of The Aftermath Project (www.theaftermathproject.org), a non-profit grant program which helps photographers cover the aftermath of conflict. She is currently directing and producing "Fambul Tok," a documentary about a post-conflict forgiveness and reconciliation program in Sierra Leone, which recently won a grant from the Sundance Documentary Institute. bosniaaftermath.com
The Way of the Japanese Bath,Photographs by Mark Edward Harris. 
Published by Sashin Press, Los Angeles, 2010.

The Way of the Japanese Bath
Reviewed by Sara Terry
__________________________ 
MARK EDWARD HARRIS
The Way of the Japanese Bath
Photographs by Mark Edward Harris
Sashin Press, Los Angeles, 2009.
Hardbound. 186 pp., 91 duotone
illustrations, 8x10."


This is the second edition of Mark Edward Harris' book, which was first published in 2003. It is gorgeously produced, with all the simple elegance one associates with Japanese culture - a tipped-in photo on a cloth-bound book, secured with clasps. The end paper is a polyptych woodblock print depicting a women's public bath, made by a Japanese artist in 1868. As an object, the book itself is a work of art.

The 91 duotone images that make up the book are perfectly reproduced, and arranged in three sections - baths that are outside, baths that are inside, and after-bath rituals. Harris had a wide range to choose from in creating this work; as he notes in the foreword, there are some 20,000 thermal hot springs across the islands that make up Japan, the natural product of the same geological shifts that cause earthquakes and volcanic eruptions.

The Way of the Japanese Bath, by Mark Edward Harris. Published by Shashin Press, 2009.

Bathing is a highly prized ritual in Japan - cleansing, with soap, takes place before a bath - and Harris captures the ritualistic sense of bathing in many of his photographs, including the austere, angular photo of a woman looking out a huge, steam-fogged wall of windows, only her head and shoulders visible above the war. A disquieting sense of mystery also permeates the photo of two men bowed underneath a cascade bath, founts of water pouring down from several feet above them, as a young boy lays on his side in shallow water.

The Way of the Japanese Bath, by Mark Edward Harris. Published by Shashin Press, 2009.


The Way of the Japanese Bath, by Mark Edward Harris. Published by Shashin Press, 2009.

That said, there is something disappointing in this book. I couldn't help feeling as I went through the photos again and again, that as much as I liked some of the images, the overall work isn't really an act of discovery, or interpretation. There is a stiltedness that emerges through the pages, a sense of posing that isn't helped by the brief text that accompanies each image. Notes about "magnificent" hotel spas and "après-ski relaxation" sound a bit too much like travel brochure language, and don't offer much insight into "the way" of the Japanese bath. Perhaps the fact that the Japan National Tourist Organization provided "invaluable logistical support," according to Harris' acknowledgments, accounts for some of that uncomfortable feeling that however beautiful the images, this book feels a bit like a high-end pitch for a Japanese vacation, and not a genuine exploration of a culture.
—Sara Terry



purchase book 





Sara Terry is a former staff correspondent for the Christian Science Monitor and magazine freelance writer, Sara Terry made a mid-career transition into documentary photography in the late 1990s. Her long-term project about the aftermath of war in Bosnia -- “Aftermath: Bosnia’s Long Road to Peace” -- was published in September 2005 by Channel Photographics, and was named as one of the best photo books of the year by Photo District News. Her work has been widely exhibited, at such venues as the United Nations, the Museum of Photography in Antwerp, and the Moving Walls exhibition at the Open Society Institute. She is the founder of The Aftermath Project (www.theaftermathproject.org), a non-profit grant program which helps photographers cover the aftermath of conflict. She is currently directing and producing "Fambul Tok," a documentary about a post-conflict forgiveness and reconciliation program in Sierra Leone, which recently won a grant from the Sundance Documentary Institute. bosniaaftermath.com
Kamaitachi, Photographs by Eikoh Hosoe. 
Published by Aperture, 2009.
Kamaitachi

Reviewed by Sara Terry
__________________________ 
Eikoh Hosoe Kamaitachi
Photographs by Eikoh Hosoe.
Aperture, New York, 2009. 112 pp., 48 tritone illustrations, 9-1/2x12-3/4".


Here's the short version of this review: Buy this book. But if you need to know more, keep reading:

This is the first time Eikoh Hosoe's masterwork Kamaitachi has been priced for the average consumer. The first limited edition of 1,000 copies was published in Japan in 1969 and now sells for thousands of dollars a copy, if you can find it. In 2005, Aperture worked with Hosoe to re-issue the book in another gorgeous limited edition of 500 copies, which now sells for hundreds of dollars.

At last comes this trade edition from Aperture, priced at $60. Beautifully made and reworked by the book's original designer, Ikko Tanaka, shortly before his death, this edition also includes eight previously unpublished pieces from the Kamaitachi series.

The original body of work was made by Hosoe in collaboration with Tatsumi Hijikata, the legendary choreographer and dancer who created the Ankoku Butoh ("dance of darkness") art form. The collaboration between the two men in 1965 yielded an extraordinary record that is documentary in sensibility and dream-like in tone.

Kamaitachi, by Eikoh Hosoe. Published by Aperture, 2009.
 Hosoe and Hijikata used a small village in the Tohoku countryside as the stage for their work, recruiting villagers as their cohorts for a series of images that are both a meditation on Hosoe's longing to capture the land and a fading way of life, and a jarring comment on post-World War II Japan. The title of the book refers to a Japanese mythical beast - a weasel-like creature that slashes its victims with whirlwind ferocity - and Hijikata embodies that writhing, brooding, suggestive presence in each of these frames.

Kamaitachi, by Eikoh Hosoe. Published by Aperture, 2009.
 Hosoe and Hijikata's collaboration with the at times unwitting villagers is by turns playful and ominous, capturing the tension of Hosoe's remembered Japan with the post-war forces that were driving it into a less idyllic time. In one image, at first glance, we see an innocent enough scene of daily life - two women, seated, consulting with a man over some matter, another behind them turned away, a young boy riding by on a tricycle in the foreground, his front wheel just pushing out of the frame. But there in the background is the kimono-clad Hijikata, hands held next to his head, forefingers pointing up, left foot tensed, ready to charge the child in what could be a playful moment. Except Hijikata's face is too sinister, his body too wired, to suggest playfulness; it's an ominous photo.

Kamaitachi, by Eikoh Hosoe. Published by Aperture, 2009.
 The conflicting emotions are captured again and again throughout the book, whether in impromptu moments (Hijikata leaping off a roof, kimono flying above his head, about to land almost on top of a group of children, watching him with quiet alarm) to staged photos of Hijikata with villagers against white backdrops). Among the strongest images are Hijikata in flight across the rural landscape - particularly the last photo in the book, a grainy image of the performer, face upturned to a dark sky, tearing headlong through a plowed field, kimono furling about him, right arm flung back with his hand curling like a claw, his left arm clutching a crying child. The Kamaitachi unleashed, slashing across the rural landscape, the future in its arms.

Kamaitachi, by Eikoh Hosoe. Published by Aperture, 2009.

Essays by Shuzo Takiguchi and Donald Greene, as well as an afterword by Hosoe himself, add depth and context to the work.

I kept the 2005 edition of this Kamaitachi bookmarked on my computer for over a year - hoping that I'd be able to come up with the $500 to buy a copy. I never did. And while I'm still eyeing that edition (which costs even more now), in the meantime, I've got this excellent trade edition to savor.—Sara Terry
Sara Terry A former staff correspondent for the Christian Science Monitor and magazine freelance writer, Sara Terry made a mid-career transition into documentary photography in the late 1990s. Her long-term project about the aftermath of war in Bosnia -- “Aftermath: Bosnia’s Long Road to Peace” -- was published in September 2005 by Channel Photographics, and was named as one of the best photo books of the year by Photo District News. Her work has been widely exhibited, at such venues as the United Nations, the Museum of Photography in Antwerp, and the Moving Walls exhibition at the Open Society Institute. She is the founder of The Aftermath Project (www.theaftermathproject.org), a non-profit grant program which helps photographers cover the aftermath of conflict. She is currently directing and producing "Fambul Tok," a documentary about a post-conflict forgiveness and reconciliation program in Sierra Leone, which recently won a grant from the Sundance Documentary Institute. bosniaaftermath.com

"It's been an ugly counterpart to war as long as there's been war itself - the rape and sexual enslavement of women. Finally declared a "crime against humanity" in a long overdue vote by the UN Security Council in 2008, the rape of women during conflict is still rarely punished. And although it's received more media coverage in recent years - thanks to conflicts in Bosnia, Rwanda, Sierra Leone, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, in particular - there are still few women who will speak about their experiences. Which is no surprise, considering both the intense humiliation and powerlessness experienced by rape victims and also the taboos in many cultures that cause these women to be further stigmatized as "damaged goods" when they try to return to normal lives after the war."

---  from Sara Terry's review of Comfort Women by Jan Banning in photo-eye Magazine

  
Read the full review here.

"Magnum photographer Abbas was in Siberia on 9/11, half a world away from the crumbling of the Twin Towers - but fully aware of the questions that would echo for years to come about the nature of Islam, and the fundamentalists who caused such destruction in Allah's name.

In Whose Name: The Islamic World after 9/11 is a collection of 173 black-and-white photographs made by Abbas in 16 countries over a seven-year period as he explored the Muslim world's response to the 'jihadists in their midst.' He asked, 'How does Islam, a religion, sustain a political ideology - Islamism?'"
--- From Sara Terry's review of In Whose Name by Abbas in photo-eye Magazine
 




Read the rest of the In Whose Name review in photo-eye Magazine.