All posts from BAGnewsNotes

Jodi Bieber / INSTITUTE for TIME
What’s going on (or, going wrong) with this traumatic cover?
…I’ll join in later in the thread.
article: The Plight of Afghan Women: A Disturbing Picture. Article: Photographing Aisha for the Cover of TIME.

Robert Mitra / WWD
Giggles and paparazzi journalism aside, this thoroughly unflattering pic of Chelsea on the cover of WWD (what’s next, the lampshade?) can be seen as push back on the part of a petty and over-entitled media for being kept in the dark over the “big plans.”
WWD’s gotcha, gotcha slideshow, by the way, is even better (I mean, worse).

Here’s the latest from Getty’s John Moore in trying to get his arms (or lens, rather) around the battle in Arizona.
The photo, taken yesterday, shows Mexican immigrant Jose Manuel in Nogales (that’s Nogales on the Mexico side, not the Arizona side). According to Mr. Manuel, he had lived in San Mateo, California, for 10 years as an undocumented construction worker when he was arrested recently by U.S. immigration and deported back to Mexico.
As opposed to a wire shot such as this, which makes the distinctions pretty clean and clear (Nogales north and Nogales sur), Manuel wears the problem, literally, on his sleeve, demonstrating how much his presence, his work and his experience has made US part of him, and him part of US.
(linked photo: Alonso Castillo/Reuters)

Two days before the Arizona immigration bill becoming law, lets pay homage to State Senator Russell Pearce, the author of the legislation, not just for demonstrating his own narcissism in sitting for this portrait, but for helping usher in this law with a harsh, warped and romanticized cowboy mentality.
Meanwhile, let’s also appreciate John Moore’s photo anticipating the dynamics, come Thursday, on one street corner.

Angelie, age 14, poses for a portrait on July 14, 2010 in Port-au-Prince. She was raped by four men and two women, all of whom she knew, this past Saturday. It happened when they invited her into their home and offered her food. While she has reported the crime to the police, no arrests have been made.
It’s not like the rapes afflicting Haiti are new.
This Guardian story from March ‘09, outlining the problem of rape in the Cité Soleil slum, detailed how half of the victims are children and teenagers. Many of the rapes are perpetrated by police and military, only twelve rapes went to court that past year, and there were only twelve child protective officers for the whole country.
Since the earthquake, MS-NBC discusses how women are forced to trade sex-for-food, and despite the influx of foreign aid organizations and a stepped-up UN presence, security in the tent camps is abysmal. Statistics are hard to come by, but a Haitian support group counted at least 230 known cases in 15 camps in the two months following the quake.  It’s not that violence is escaping notice: VOA sketches out the fuller dimensions of the security challenge, while the New York Times spotlights one woman’s recent abuse.
Looking at the Pictures
Because this terror is rampant, we were particularly drawn to Brendan Hoffman’s photos of recent victims of sexual assault — images which literally loom large, but at the same time, manage to balance sensitivity, privacy, and the wishes of these girls and those close to them to make the violence known.
Hoffman’s images have not just intensity but also intimacy — an intimacy that defies the searing depersonalization and objectification of the act of rape.  These young women, at this scale and through the power of that gaze (whether addressing the camera directly or askance) simply demand to be recognized by you and I.
There are also other things happening in these images.  For example: the detail of the facial “landscape” can’t help but draw us in and generate a natural curiosity about the soul inside this skin, as well as the state-of-mind in and behind the eye. If the eyelid is droopy, we want to know if it’s an expression of wariness, or depression, or just being tired. Given the trauma, the compromised living conditions and the continuous danger, sleep is at a premium, as all these young women have bloodshot eyes. Then again, a droopy lid can simply be characteristic, setting off still more curiosity about who this person is.

Lovely, age 12, poses for a portrait on July 14, 2010 in Port-au-Prince. She was raped by a man just last week, after recently moving with her family to the camp on Champs de Mars. She didn’t want to tell the police about the rape but they found out and arrested the perpetrator.
Something else that struck us in the picture above is how the photographer is reflected in the girl’s eye. It speaks to the photographer as witness, and the potential for the outsider — even after such violation — to make an impression. At the same time, however, this kind of access should not be romanticized, as personal space as well as trust are precarious, especially for the powerless.
Finally this image calls out the eye as a recording device, asking us to also consider how the trauma has been imprinted, and what and how much of it each girl still sees as she appears to fix on us.

Magrecita, age 14, poses for a portrait on July 14, 2010 in Port-au-Prince. She was raped by a man she knew to have come out of prison just this month. She reported the rape to the police, who arrested and then released the man.
How the Pictures Were Made

Photographer Brendan Hoffman met a resident of the Champs de Mars displaced-persons camp, a former tax collector and computer science student in the United States, unemployed since the earthquake. The camp is a tent city across the street from the destroyed Presidential Palace in Port-au-Prince. Roughly 3800 people live there, still homeless six months later. The man spoke English, and expressing his concern and outrage, told Brendan that many young women and girls have been raped in the camp, and nobody has done much about it.
Brendan thought, “Living in a tent is a lot less secure than a home, especially for these women since many of their fathers and male relatives were killed in the earthquake.”
Understanding the need for sensitivity, Brendan arranged to meet the victims in two groups the next day, inside tents away from public view. Some came with their family members. Some came with each other, not wanting to tell their families about what happened to them. In every case, he showed them the photographs after he made them.
They were willing to identify themselves to a foreign journalist and tell their stories: “They felt that, at least someone is asking and concerned,” but Brendan thought, “I wanted to preserve their anonymity as much as possible. So I shot really tight and cropped in on the eyes.”
They spoke matter-of-factly, with less emotion than he anticipated. Their voices were quiet and soft, and they avoided eye contact except when looking into his lens. “It’s really hard, staring right into eyes.”

Nathaly, age 19, poses for a portrait on July 14, 2010 in Port-au-Prince. She was raped by eight men – one of whom she knew – the day after the earthquake in January. She reported it to the police but so far they have done nothing.
Ethical Concerns
Previously, it was a given that you must conceal identities and confidentiality of rape victims to protect them from suffering additional pain and trauma. In some cases, victims of kidnapping were identified openly in the media but when it was discovered a rape or sexual attack of any kind had been committed, names immediately were withdrawn.
Over the past few years, however, this policy has shifted.
Rape and sexual assaults are crimes of violence, just as a shooting or beating is a crime of violence. At some point, society began making the transition in seeing this and understand that women don’t “ask for it” by the way they dress, whether or not they show their hair without a scarf or by being good looking or in the wrong place or out too late.
When we continue to identify victims of other kinds of violence but see rape as requiring confidentiality, we’re sustaining this idea. Because the transition has not been entirely made seeing rape simply as a terrible crime (perhaps like any other kind of torture), the victim should be asked how she feels about being identified and let her know that we do not want to cause her any additional harm beyond what she’s already suffered. Her decision should be respected.
******
Brendan’s photographs allow the girls to be human. They confront us, we see their pain, awkwardness, perhaps even a bit of their soul, and spirit. We cannot remain passive observers.

–Alan Chin, Michael Shaw, and Loret Steinberg
PHOTOGRAPHS by BRENDAN HOFFMAN

Hello, readers. Look at the picture—now back to the words—now back to the picture—now back to the words . . . where are you? You’re on the Internet, with the social media campaign your next social media campaign could sell like.
By now you’ve probably seen several versions of the successful “Old Spice Guy” ad campaign—which originated with a pricey Superbowl debut. It is, of course, a huge commercial success– PC World touts it as perhaps “the most brilliant ad campaign ever,” Mashable calls it the “archetype of a successful social media campaign,” and even an old media stand-by like NPR reported that Old Spice Guy’s YouTube videos are “being hailed as the fastest-growing viral video campaign of any product in history.”
Perhaps more interesting than the ad campaign’s commercial success are the progressive political props the spots are getting. Writing for The Root (in an article titled “Why the Old Spice Guy is Good for Black America”), Cord Jefferson states that Old Spice Guy bucks the more familiar notions of black masculinity typically portrayed in advertising (you know, hypersexualized, animalistic, and brutish). Jefferson notes, “There was a time when a muscular black man addressing America’s ‘ladies’—not just black ladies but all ladies—in a sexualized tone could have gotten him killed.” Jefferson continues, saying that Old Spice Guy, by contrast, is presented as the “apex of manhood . . . here in 2010, far from being fearful, America is rushing wildly into his sturdy embrace.”
The visual architecture of the ad campaign suggests the ways in which the company is playing with form and expectations. As the towel-clad spokeshunk addresses his “lady” audience, he reminds them of the mediocrity of their own lives: “Look at your man, now back to me . . . sadly, he isn’t me, but if he stopped using lady-scented body wash and switched to Old Spice, he could smell like he’s me.” Instead of asking you to buy the fantasy, this ad campaign starts with more modest goals.

Mindful, however, of the genre’s expectations (personal product ads always sell the fantasy), the producers poke fun at that, as well, picturing Old Spice Guy as he log rolls in the mountains, waltzes through a gourmet kitchen he built for his lady (and in which he bakes cakes for her), and swan dives into a hot tub that also contains a motorcycle—presumably for him to ride into the next female fantasy. The humor comes not only from the obviously stereotypical nature of the “female fantasies,” but also from the artifice of the production—digital images split in two, staged backdrops topple as he strides confidently from one scene to the next—making the ads a pitch-perfect spoof of the personal product ad genre.

At this point I’m going to confess that I laugh at these commercials—their good-natured goofiness and male (as opposed to female) objectification seem almost as refreshing as body wash that’s not “lady-scented.” However, when I examine them a bit more closely, I see the contours of a more familiar ad narrative.
The  ads rely on stereotypes about women for the humor to ring true. As he strolls across the deck of a boat, Old Spice Guy asks, “What’s in your hand? Back at me. I have it. It’s an oyster with two tickets to that thing you love. Look again. The tickets are now diamonds!” Everyone knows that even an ideal man wouldn’t know exactly what his women likes, much less like it himself (he’s probably much too manly). And, in a pinch, women just want diamonds—purchased for them by their man and his manly salary.

In another example, The Old Spice web site features this still:

You’ve got the typical sexy woman, placed in a submissive pose, looking adoringly at the man, who is poised to make all her dreams come true (because, of course, women dream primarily about sexual satisfaction—at least when they’re not busy fantasizing about diamonds or cake).  That’s right, we ladies like our manly men any way we can get them—even covered head to toe with shaving cream (yum!) . . . while riding a motorcycle (exciting!) . . . in our bathtub (uh, okay, that’s a little weird).
The disappointment of the Old Spice Guy ad campaign is that the progressive image of black masculinity is only funny—and only makes sense—when it is wedged into another narrative (one as familiar as the racist story that Old Spice Guy tries to displace). Women desire (and are most desirable when conforming to) patriarchal male sexuality.
That narrative is carried through to the YouTube portion of the campaign, where Old Spice Guy (astride the Internet instead of a horse) answers questions tweeted to him: “WSpencer tweets: ‘Old Spice, am typing while running from a stampede of scantily clad female admirers who appeared after trying Old Spice. Is there an antidote?’ WSpencer: this is a common and life-threatening side effect of Old Spice Body Wash.” This ad seems to be an homage to the  Axe Body Spray campaign, which is premised entirely on packs of wild young women who descend on unsuspecting, sexy men.

Even the aforementioned progressive African-American commentator was willing to metaphorically throw women under the bus as he promoted Old Spice Guy’s 21st-century appeal. Jefferson urged that even with “problems with heteronormativity and misogyny–all women love diamonds!—aside, the Old Spice Guy spots are funny in the offbeat and visually exciting manner Internet audiences demand.  . . . That smells like progress, man.”
Ah, the smell of patriarchal masculinity in the morning . . . . (insert the Old Spice whistle here).
Streaming videos and stills available at www.oldspice.com
Shower/towel image obtained here.

I was interested in these almost cinematic shots of Hillary at the Korean DMZ with the North Korean soldier peering through the window.
Angry with the North over their nuke program and their recent sinking of a S. Korean ship, the Obama Administration — complicit with the cutback in South Korean aid to the north, and having frozen bank assets of the North Korean elite (which BushCo relented on) — is framing itself as thoroughly badass.  (Notice how Hillary’s shoulder aligns with the soldier’s gun.)  The steely anger in Hillary’s face is completely intentional, of course, as she’s aware (in contrast to the smiling Gates) of the money shot.  The photo is also a conscious study in contrast, playing on the sense of the soldier as being “left out”; trapped behind the dirty window (inferring, with moral as well as economic overtones, they probably don’t wash it on the other side); and likely suffering himself (the cinched belt likely a literal allusion to hunger).
Your thoughts?
(photos: Paul J. Richards/AP.  Jul 21, 2010, Seoul, South Korea. Caption 1: Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton listens to a briefing as a curious North Korean soldier looks through the window to see what is going on inside the building at the truce village of Panmunjom in the demilitarized zone (DMZ). Caption 2: U.S. Army Col. Kurt Taylor, right, briefs U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, center, and U.S. Secretary of Defense Robert Gates, 2nd right, at the truce village of Panmunjom in the demilitarized zone (DMZ).)

I was interested in these almost cinematic shots of Hillary at the Korean DMZ with the North Korean soldier peering through the window.
Angry with the North over their nuke program and their recent sinking of a S. Korean ship, the Obama Administration — complicit with the cutback in South Korean aid to the north, and having frozen bank assets of the North Korean elite (which BushCo relented on) — is framing itself as thoroughly badass. (Notice how Hillary’s shoulder aligns with the soldier’s gun.) The steely anger in Hillary’s face is completely intentional, of course, as she’s aware (in contrast to the smiling Gates) of the money shot. The photo is also a conscious study in contrast, playing on the sense of the soldier as being “left out”; trapped behind the dirty window (inferring, with moral as well as economic overtones, they probably don’t wash it on the other side); and likely suffering himself (the cinched belt likely a literal allusion to hunger).
Your thoughts?
(photos: Paul J. Richards/AP. Jul 21, 2010, Seoul, South Korea. Caption 1: Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton listens to a briefing as a curious North Korean soldier looks through the window to see what is going on inside the building at the truce village of Panmunjom in the demilitarized zone (DMZ). Caption 2: U.S. Army Col. Kurt Taylor, right, briefs U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, center, and U.S. Secretary of Defense Robert Gates, 2nd right, at the truce village of Panmunjom in the demilitarized zone (DMZ).)

photo: Linda RosierShirley a white lover? Yeah, just wait the rest comes out!

Who knows, maybe a new BP motto might come out of this. Something like: “We will leave no screen unfilled until we cap this baby off!”
In the top scene, you have the doctored photo BP posted of their command center in the “Gulf of Mexico Response in Pictures” section of their website – the pic now disappeared.  Just below it, you have the actual version BP has since posted after being busted for filling in empty screens (the fourth screen/top row and third and forth/bottom row) with views that weren’t there.  (AmericaBlog broke the story and offers visual details, though the difference is plain to see.)
The obvious question here is why? Or better yet, what, if anything, does this show-and-tell us about the mindset inside BP Mission Control right now?  Are we talking about the act of an errant photographer who wanted — obviously, in the worst and most amateurish way (if you look at AmericaBlog’s screen shots) — to make a more robust picture?  Or, are we talking about something more paranoid and systemic to BP in which the idea that three engineers studying seven screens of the oil leak would make the company look worse — as the company musters everything it has to cap the leak off — than pouring over a full ten?
Is the issue here about aesthetics, obsession with corporate image (especially the way A4 and B4 could connote a hospital “flat line”), or both?
(You can click either of these screen shots for a larger view, and click the double arrow to go back-and-forth.  Here, also, is the hi-res “real version” at BP.com.)

If I said The BAG was returning to the Haiti story today to recognize the six-month-and-one-week anniversary of the earthquake, I hope you would know I was making a point about today’s rampant addiction to commemoration, and how the meaning of tragedy is so compromised by short-attention spans and the need for ever-fresher dramas that we must now resort to the setting of a timer to remember, in the place of more purposeful and spontaneous curiosity, and a more genuine (and sustained) motivation to attend.
The second reason I wanted to return to Brendan Hoffman’s recent images from Haiti is to reinforce the picture of the Haitian character.

What we don‘t see in these two photographs, in the smiles, are a people either in denial of their circumstances or consumed to the core by them.  That’s particularly impressive in the top photo, given this work crew is out digging a drainage ditch along the edges of the profoundly flat, rock-hard, baking hot, remote, expansive and possibly not-so-transitional Corail camp outside Port-au-Prince.
Last night, I was able to watch the whole interview Amy Goodman conducted last week with relief agent Sean Penn about the situation in Haiti. Besides the way Penn describes the heartbreaking lack of cooperation between the NGO’s there, the way he described the majority of Haitians was as impressive as it was consistent. I liked this one line that linked the two together while summing up both. He said: “Whenever we’re talking about anything other than the Haitian people, we know we’ve got a problem.”
——-
caption 1: Members of a work crew digging a drainage ditch along the edges of the Corail camp take a break on July 6, 2010, in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. The camp, located far on the outskirts of the city, houses mostly people who chose to leave the crowded camp located on a former golf course in Petionville.
caption 2: Pupils sit in a classroom at a public school on July 7, 2010, in Port-au-Prince, Haiti. Most schools didn’t re-open until April, three months after the earthquake.
PHOTOGRAPHS by BRENDAN HOFFMAN

Unfortunately (or maybe, fortunately), O’Reilly cut off Beck before he could really explain why he found the outfit Michelle wore to survey the oil spill such
“an outrage.”  What I did hear him say, though, is that it proves she can’t relate.
Given that he prefaced his comment by characterizing MO as someone with a penchant for designer clothes and a vain preoccupation with what to wear to an oil spill, perhaps the comment, the hyperbole and then, also, the fact he described Michelle’s outfit as a “dress” speaks as much about the man being threatened by a strong woman, perhaps a strong black woman given how the “dress” functioned like a Rorschach for Beck and he was incapable of getting beyond mere black and white.
Ric Feld/APAll that being said — even though I didn’t notice it before (even after doing a post on Michelle and the map), I do think Michelle’s outfit that day (whether a less- or more conscious choice) is interesting.  If anything, though, I think Beck got it exactly backwards. To the extent the color and design evokes the oil spill, I find it (like I find Michelle Obama) particularly empathetic.
Your read?
Video clip here.
(caption 1: U.S. First lady Michelle Obama flashes two thumbs-up to the crowd, as she is introduced by Panama City Beach Mayor Gayle Oberst, on Panama City Beach, Florida July 12, 2010. Obama visited the area to show support for the people and businesses impacted by the BP Deepwater Horizon oil spill.)