Have you ever wondered what is the story behind a picture hanging in an art gallery, a restaurant or a friend’s home? How did it come to be? What was going through the photographer’s mind while capturing that moment in time?
The sequence of events, the mood, setting and intent, which came together to immortalise the artist’s thoughts and fuse their artistry with their surroundings to create something truly special.
Behind every picture is an untold story. Only the photographer can reveal the feelings, circumstances and the true story of the picture underneath the spotlight. Xposure International Photography Festival (Xposure 2018) has unearthed some of the most fascinating stories told for the first time by four accomplished photographers discussing some of their works that won them global acclaim.
Phillip Lee Harvey
I have always felt very honoured to be a photographer, as it gives you unprecedented access to unique ways of life. I’ve worked with the Maasai people of East Africa a lot over the years and they have always shown me great kindness. Whilst on a safari assignment, I heard about a wedding taking place in a nearby village. After introducing myself, I was invited to stay. The groom and his friends happily posed, full of excitement and bravado.
Soon after, I noticed the bride standing alone, deep in thought. I only took a few frames before she looked up, smiled and left for the ceremony. Two years layer I was back in the same area of Kenya and so made some enquires about the couple. Although they had moved to a new village, I was able to meet with them and give them a set of long overdue wedding pictures.
Elia Locardi
There was a brief moment, standing here at Tiger’s Nest in Bhutan, taking this photograph, when I felt like everything I had done in my life had in some way led me to this spectacular view. It was a refreshing burst of insight that made it seem like up until this point, I've only been experiencing the world around me through my eyes and not with my heart. This place left me transfixed, and refused to let go. As a seasoned traveller, this is a rare experience that I always find to be truly special – and one that I appreciate tremendously.
To be fair though, it may not have just been Tiger’s Nest that captured my heart. From the second we touched down into Paro, Bhutan, we were greeted with warm hospitality. It was clear from the start that the country that claims to be the happiest land in the world, seemed to really be just that.
Drew Altdoerffer
I think one of the struggles any photographer faces when you ask them to evaluate their own work, is that they bring baggage to the process. What I mean is that only the photographer knows what it meant to take that image. The hardship that was necessary to capture that specific moment or the magic that surrounded that moment, which may not have been captured.
I think looking back, some of my least and most favourite images are the ones that either came too easy or came too hard. One such image was captured in Antarctica. The trek to Antarctica is difficult enough, and once you arrive, setting up and taking the shot requires a lot more than great skills.
What you may be left with then is simple disappointment because the moment or the image fails to inspire. On the other hand, some of my favourite images are those that simply fit the moment. The stars align, fate intervenes, and you find a scene hidden in plain site that simply brings you peace.
There’s nothing particularly grand about this image, nothing particularly special for the casual viewer either. But for me, it’s the image that made the entire trip. There was no spectacular sky or impossibly complicated composition; there was simply this building in the middle of Iceland. Every time I see it, I’m happy.
Katarina Premfors
On June 8, 2011, my father was 64 years old. He sat down in the kitchen that we shared. My parents lived upstairs. My husband, me and our three-month-old daughter lived downstairs. We were just about to have dinner; the time was seven-thirty. Suddenly my father said, “My arm is tingling”. In the ten meters from the kitchen to the sofa, my father crumbled in our arms.
Rushed calls were made to my brother and his family who came straight over. Then, surrealistic moments with the ambulance driver fumbling with the gurney and decisions which hospital to go to. We reached Rashid Hospital within 12 minutes.
My father had suffered a massive stroke.
I brought my camera to the hospital because I have a camera with me everywhere. I took some photos. My father was ok with it. He encouraged it as it meant he could see his progress. The first photo is taken more than a month after his stroke. A project formed, and I started seeing these moments where my mother held him up as he stood again for the first time and it was hope in an otherwise very slow recovery. These photographs are the last thirteen months of shared memories before he passed away.
