Hyphen magazine - Asian American arts, culture, and politics

In the aftermath of the earthquake that decimated Port-au-Prince weeks ago, journalists have worked 'round the clock to keep the flickering screens and hungry eyes of their eager public perpetually engaged. And we, in turn, have consumed, without pause, photo essay upon photo essay of devastated Haitians climbing bloody out from under piles of debris, desperate Haitians knocking over little boys, and homeless Haitians sleeping without shelter, among many other startling images captured by news photographers with Pulitzer-sized dreams (after all, Haiti's last disaster earned this guy one!).

And we are so moved by these terrible, suspended fragments of another's life that it may not occur to us that the bloody woman we saw rising from beneath blocks of concrete probably saw a photographer's lens before she saw the faces of her rescuers. Nor do we wonder whether she'll get a dime if her photo wins him any awards.

But that's nothing new. Photojournalism has always been an ethically shady enterprise. Whether Steve McCurry's portrait of the reluctantly compliant "Afghan Girl" or Kevin Carter's voyeuristic photo of a starving Sudanese baby, the trade has long borne a paradoxical reputation; while widely regarded as a public service, it nevertheless entails a level of detachment that is antithetical to most conventional conceptions of "service." It's a topic I've written about before, and one that I continually revisit, particularly as I get to know more photographers and especially as I strive to critique the ethical implications of my own journalistic projects.  So I was pleased to see documentary photographer Eliza Gregory's thoughtful piece on the ethics of photographing the less fortunate, written for PhotoPhilanthropy's blog. Recalling an experience she had while photographing for the International Rescue Committee, she writes:

It’s very easy to come from relative affluence (which you do, in this world, if you own a camera) and try to work for the betterment of others as an outsider, and end up further marginalizing or denigrating the very people you seek to assist. [Read the piece to get her full analysis].

Coming from an organization whose sole purpose is to  encourage photographers to document humanitarian crises in an effort to increase support for aid groups, this kind of intelligent and humble self-criticism is refreshing -- and rare, in my experience. I've worked with a variety of non-profit organizations who have been reluctant -- even vehemently opposed -- to examining critically the indirect harm that their "good" might be doing to the very people they strive to serve, sometimes on the shaky grounds that "if we weren't doing this, nobody would be." Such an attitude on the part of activists, enacted however unwittingly, is hardly in the long-term interests of those receiving their aid.    

So an org whose volunteers defy the model, by striving to do the same kind of soul-wrenching self-critique that they ask of their viewing audience, is definitely worthy of a plug.

In addition to connecting socially-conscious photographers with NGOs in need of their services, PhotoPhilanthropy also provides a platform for contributing photographers to exhibit their work, and sponsors an Activist Awards contest, which rewards winning professional, amateur, and student photographers with small cash prizes to help offset the expenses of their volunteer work (key word: small -- no $10,000 cash prizes here for photos taken by on-the-clock journalists).

Chyi-Dean Shu is just one of those contributing photographers, though, at just 16(!) years of age, he's got a bit of a head start on most of us would-be do-gooders. Not to mention his photographs are surprisingly well-executed for a teenage photographer (or so says my photographer beau, whom I trust implicitly in all matters of the art).

Dean's PhotoPhilanthropic journey began last year when he volunteered with Red Cross Taiwan (for which he performed a variety of manual labors in addition to more creative pursuits) and continues with his ongoing support of a variety of other nonprofit organizations. As someone who is effectively merging his passion for art with a deep commitment to serving others, he has a lot to teach us about the ethics of activist art. While his photographs (featured above and below) depict individuals being served by the Red Cross, his approach is respectful and empathetic -- by design.

"There [have] been situations where I wasn’t sure if the subjects knew that I was taking pictures," he tells me, "but...I have gotten consent first if they are recognizable in the photographs. I try to put myself in their shoes and ask myself, 'If I was that person, would I appreciate someone['s] taking my picture?' As a result I shy away from shots involving the homeless and terminally ill."

His approach is a far cry from the candid suffering shots preferred by many other documentary photographers, whose means of promoting a cause or crisis is to epitomize a single subject in anticipation of a disconnected third party's reaction. One wonders what tangible benefit this process, which strips subject of agency (and, often, context), can offer to the parties involved. Increased revenue for NGOs? Sometimes, though not always. Direct aid to the individuals pictured? Unlikely. And while such images may increase global awareness of an issue, we ought to question whether awareness is a worthwhile goal if it only sometimes results in donations, and rarely serves the individuals who are most intimately affected and portrayed.

Ultimately, the only party who is certain to benefit from exploitative "art" in some way is the artist, who may gain notoriety or manage to sell a few pictures or build his/her portfolio in the name of service.

For Dean, none of those so-called gains are worth violating an individual's privacy or unscrupulously appropriating someone's image.

"I'm no saint," he says, "but in this sort of situation, I always put ethical concerns over artistic concerns. In a way, obtaining fame and recognition for [an] unethically-taken photograph is like blood money... Art is about pursuing your passions, and I don't think anyone's passion is guilt."

But even when the art is far from exploitative or the artist's conscience is guilt-free, it can be difficult to balance necessary photographer recognition with the ethically obligatory emphasis on service. Fortunately, maintaining this balance is something PhotoPhilanthropy does quite well. While it does a good job of recognizing photographers (photo galleries, activist awards, etc), that recognition is tempered with, and accomplished within the framework of, a sound focus on service. You won't find photographer bios on the website, or self-centered testimonies about what they got out of the experience; rather, each photo gallery is accompanied by a short essay describing the featured NGO's programs and its beneficiaries, which is authored by that gallery's photographer. There's a link to the photographer's email, or sometimes his/her website, but that's about it.

PhotoPhilanthropy isn't the only organization of its kind, but for many of the reasons already outlined, it is rather unique. Art-activism projects can, by nature, very easily become superficial, self-aggrandizing caricatures of activism. Take Help-Portrait, an organization founded by a self-described celebrity photographer whose mission is to "equip and mobilize" photographers into taking portraits of people who can't afford professional photographs -- free of charge. The goal seems admirable... until you get to the part of the website that specifies "who needs pictures" (evidently, homeless people, orphans, sick kids, and the elderly all need professional portraits done, though I have to wonder if they need those more than, say, the obvious necessities they lack) followed by the founder's description of why his organization is necessary:

"Because I love seeing a 45-year-old single mom work the camera and have the chance to live out the dream of modeling since [sic] she was a little girl"

"I love seeing women glow as they get pampered with hair and make-up for the first time"

"I love the tears of a woman hugging me because this is the first photo she's seen of herself since losing 300lbs 8 years ago"

Without trying to belittle the good intentions of the participating photographers, I have to question the need for a non-profit organization whose broad categorization of "people in need" includes under-made-up women, formerly over-weight women, and middle-aged women who wish they were models. Not exactly my idea of service.

Nevertheless, it demonstrates the ethical murkiness of so-called activism, and reinforces the importance of self-critique when it comes to community service -- or even journalism parading as a public service. Truly, self-awareness and perspective are tools greatly underused by those dedicated to serving others -- and one wonders why, since wee babes like Dean seem to have it down long before seasoned pros.

View Dean's photographs at his PhotoPhilanthropy Gallery as well as on his website.

View Eliza Gregory's work on her website or read her at the PhotoPhilanthropy blog.