Firstly, and most importantly, I have a deep respect for each and every person who dedicated their time to walk in the name of respect and equality.
Secondly, the moment when the police allowed me to cross the barricade separating the marchers and the nationalists, I had a profound moment of realising the power of my camera. In that moment I didn’t carry a camera – I carried a passport. I was with those who fought for and with those who fought against. That magic invisibility coat I seemed to be wearing made me fell in love with photography again, and again.
These are perfect strangers I met on Sunday. Each of them shared a moment and a story with me. I can’t quite exactly explain what made me pick them from the crowd but I instinctively felt something unique going on.
Meet the crazy pavement artist, the lovely man with crazy sunglasses and a traveler from Kansas with a German origin.
One winter morning we all got up to go to work and school, I was maybe, around eight or nine. I remember all the beautiful frost paintings on my windows. All the cars in neighbourhood were making funny noises as they were trying to start. Somebody was helping to push our car so that it moves. Every time I breath out a big white cloud was coming out of my mouth.
Me and P. went to the mountain to hunt for some snow. It’s not easy nowadays. Snow has became an endangered animal you can only watch in the zoos, refrigerators and UAE shopping malls.
“i used to tell my students, or maybe rather, classify photography in quite an original way: photography needed and not needed. Of course that’s a metaphor. Photography not needed is created with no influence from outside, that means, it’s a highly personal choice of the photographer. I’ve always told my students, and I continue to do it until today, do as much photography not needed as you can. It’s the most authentic, the most real and it tells us something about the author. Of course that terminology, needed and not needed – that’s only humoristic. It’s not important in the moment”