At the age of nine I held a camera for the first time. My dad used to travel abroad a great deal and one time he came back with a present. I can testify that it was then that a dramatic change occurred in my life. From the moment the camera entered our home, it did not leave my eye. I would take it everywhere, shooting anything that crossed my way. This apparatus became the eyes through which I viewed the world.
From time immemorial I had a growing fear that I might forget everything, and won't remember what had happened. The fear has never left me. Thanks to that fear, photography and documentation has become an inseparable part of my life.
In time, that same fear of a nine-year-old boy who was compelled to document became the fear of the grown man I am today. I felt the desire to photograph and document all those transparent people, as I call them, the ones Society does not notice, whether from choice or not, the ones who cannot make their voice heard. Through photography, I feel I can give them back the possibility for being significant in this world, even if momentarily, and feel that someone sees them and takes interest in them.
I have always been enchanted by the ordinary person, who is any one of us. When I meet that person, I do not know where he or she comes from. And yet, I detect the spark, and carefully try to scrape off the layers and meet him or her in a more truthful way. These people spring naturally in front of my eyes and I see them as attractive characters coloring the streets. I have always felt that no matter how much I talk to people, or however much I try to connect with them, I can never be a natural part of the landscape they belong to, or comprehend them in the ultimate way I wish. I had always felt that capturing them in a portrait will be the nearest way for me to remember them and to connect to their lives.
In time, that same fear of a nine-year-old boy who was compelled to document became the fear of the grown man I am today. I felt the desire to photograph and document all those transparent people, as I call them, the ones Society does not notice, whether from choice or not, the ones who cannot make their voice heard. Through photography, I feel I can give them back the possibility for being significant in this world, even if momentarily, and feel that someone sees them and takes interest in them.
I have always been enchanted by the ordinary person, who is any one of us. When I meet that person, I do not know where he or she comes from. And yet, I detect the spark, and carefully try to scrape off the layers and meet him or her in a more truthful way. These people spring naturally in front of my eyes and I see them as attractive characters coloring the streets. I have always felt that no matter how much I talk to people, or however much I try to connect with them, I can never be a natural part of the landscape they belong to, or comprehend them in the ultimate way I wish. I had always felt that capturing them in a portrait will be the nearest way for me to remember them and to connect to their lives.
Photography gives me a sense that I, or anyone else, might look at these people, and see them from another viewpoint. It can be a view of respect, or compassion, or perhaps the next time one might come across one of these persons, one's gaze will be different. And that for me is worth it all.
I express my fear through my art; my fear that people will be overlooked, the fear that they will be forgotten, and will not be viewed as I see them. These ordinary people are to my eyes the most beautiful landscape of any street or neighbourhood in the world and it is important for me to perpetuate this landscape, and remember it. This is especially true in a world where one finds it hard to lift one's eyes from the screen, even for a moment; in a world where social media explode with infinite possibilities, but where loneliness becomes increasingly intense. How easy it is to ignore and move on. It is then that my need to make these people's voice 'heard'.
That same burning inner need to remember and to remind through my photographs, reminds me that it is that same inner voice of the nine-year-old boy who ordered me to document any moment so that one day I might remember all those moments, and never forget.