Ed van der Elsken

I am the richest man in the world... The story about me in Myanmar.

Cris you are the richest man in the world…

That is what she said when we ended lunch. Or at least something similar… It doesn’t matter in the end though. It is what she meant what counts.

A cold Saturday back in the Netherlands and she finally gave me the words that I needed to start writing again. I has been a while since my last decent story. But that is okay. It was a busy time.

Just returned back form Myanmar photographing one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. What a trip…

I left…

*Note: Some photographs, and people I want to thank at the bottom.*

At the beginning of October I left the Netherlands to go on my adventure. Objective of the adventure: Try to tell the story of the indigenous tribes in Myanmar and how they deal with modern times.

First a small stop in Bangkok and from Bangkok I flew to Yangon, Myanmar. Too many airports, especially because I was traveling with a ton of film. But luckily all of the customs where so nice. Especially in Asia. They noticed me standing in line with my big see through bags full of film and my film was hand checked as soon as I got through customs myself. The airport in France on the other hand… They need to work on their manners a bit… But that is story is for another time… CDG, you suck.

In Bangkok I stocked up on even some more film and I was ready to go. For the people that are interested in what cameras I brought. It was my trusty Nikon FM2n and a old Yashica Mat 124G. As a back-up I brought my Nikon D810. A digital one. But that camera has never left my bag. My mind was determent this was going to be a analog only trip. If they could do it in the old days, it could be done now. And so I did.

Arriving in Yangon…

My arrival could have gone better. As soon as I got in the taxi I started feeling sick… What could it be… I never get sick… I shared the taxi with a girl which I have met at the airport and I tried to keep myself in order. Cracked open the window to get some fresh air, but with all the rain and thunder going on it was not the smartest of ideas.

As soon as I arrived in my hostel the food poisoning which I apparently had, kicked into fifth gear. Locking myself up in the toilet was the only option. Too bad the hostel turned off the water right at that exact moment.

Fuck.

Preparing for my last leg…

After being knocked off my feet for almost two days I got outside to get some fresh air and bought some Royal D. That is some sort of electrolyte drink and I needed that. I was so dehydrated… What I didn’t need was to be in a bumpy bus later that day, but I had no choice. I had to. Loikaw was up, and I just really wanted to go there. My final destination.

Luckily I met a super cool guy in the bus. And what do you know. I ran into him on the way back too.

The country had so many similarities to all the other countries I have been… And as soon as I arrived at the bus station right outside of the city it immediately felt like I was in Iran.

The whole country for me was the perfect combination of the kindness of the people of Iran, the amazing food of Vietnam, and the energy of the streets of India…

Beautiful…

Faith and a doorway to a store full of Longyi…

There she was. Standing in the doorway of a shop that sold longyis. A super big smile on her face, and so on mine. A split second was only needed before we recognized each other.

Victoria…

One of the beautiful souls that helped me so much on my way. Without her… I think most of my project would have failed. Or at least more difficult.

Professional photographer!!! it sounded!

Aaaaaaaah Victoria! So good to finally see you for real!

We exchanged a lot of messages over WhatsApp before my arrival and how she could have be of help. I ended up at random at one of her stores. I just went for a stroll to check out the city and stretch my legs, so faith decided I would meet her immediately without even texting her.

I love faith.

Me and the Chinese motorbike…

As stubborn sometimes I can be the first day I got myself a Chinese motorbike. Victoria warned me not to take that one. But me being Dutch and wanting to save money made me decide to take that one.

My ass did not thank me for that decision…

I took the motorcycle to drive to one of the first villages. It is not allowed to stay in the villages overnight, which I think is a really good thing. So the plan was to drive every morning to at least one of them and drive back before sunset.

But as unpredictable as life is… So was the rest of my journey…

Let me tell you about Moly…

Hair braided and hanging to the side with an umbrella in hand she walked towards me and asked me: Are you Cris?

The only thing I could think was she was like a beautiful young princess that could have walked right out of a Disney movie. Young and and early in her twenties I noticed she was the only one wearing western style dress…

Yes yes… I am Cris! I answered…

You must be Moly?

Moly was my interpreter in the village. I was so happy I immediately ran into her. This because after enjoying the beautiful landscapes of Myanmar I got lost, and it started to rain like Odin cried his heart out. The poncho I brought did it’s job perfectly. Camera dry, and my body too. My feet not so much, and so weren’t my glasses.

An interpreter is needed because all of the villages of the indigenous people around the country of Myanmar have their own language.

We were standing in the middle of the road, a soccer match to the left, a garrison of armed soldiers on the right. And us discussing what my plan was for the day and maybe the days later, and was I was to expect.

She hopped on the back of my Chinese motorbike the same way an amazon warrior does and told me to drive out of the village to one further away…

And so we drove…

Mulon…

I was honored to meet and have a talk with Mulon… She was one of the grandmothers of the village. She was cooking rice and preparing food for the community so Moly and I joined her for the cooking.

But what do you talk about?

I mean I am sort of good in conversation. And I have seen a lot in my life… But if you arrive finally at the place you have been preparing for, for a long time. And also, let’s be honest, seeing an old but beautiful woman with a neck almost twice the size as mine, I mean… That made me a little bit lost for words.

But after a short while the first jokes were cracked. And in the end we talked about everything that life is about.

The beauty is. And I think one of lessons you always learn no matter where you go in the world. We have more in common than we think, and we all long for the same things in life…

We ended with a portrait session…

Evil spirits…

I said goodbye to Moly for the day and made plans to return upcoming days. Because in an instant, this place already captured my heart.

Victoria made sure I was going to other places. Thank god for Victoria. I think I almost would have lived there already. So good of her that she kicked my ass into gear. Also she got me a way better motorbike.

So one of the mornings I went to the farthest place away… It was a three hour ride over mountain roads that were not always that good anymore. So a driver was needed. To share costs I joined a Spanish blogger, Manuela. And two young vibrant Burmese women, Sandar and Marina.

I cannot describe where we ended up in but it was so amazing. I think it was way to describe all of the times I arrived at a new places.

Manuela was put into traditional clothing, and off we went to the courtyard of a house in the middle of the village.

Pot and pans everywhere. A dead pig in some burning bushes. And than it started…

There was some commotion…

A rifle shot…

Playing of drums began…

The shaman was doing his ceremony with spear and shield, walking on the beat of the drum. And on some of the drum beats, more rifle fire.

They were old rifles… So old and bent, I think if you want to go out and shoot something with it you will probably hit yourself in the foot. Or any other place other than the target.

But that is okay. For the ceremony it did exactly what it had to do…

The shaman was doing all of this to get the evil spirits away from the house. Catch them. Put them in a basket with some bamboo strips and chicken bones. And bury it outside of the village where they can do no to anyone.

At one moment more rice wine…

My stomach still wasn’t settled but I drank it anyway. I mean, you only live once… And I actually quite like it. And luckily it is without alcohol I learned later. That’s a good thing… Because a couple of days later on my birthday I drank a lot more!

Fuck, it’s my birthday…

My phone started ringing early in the morning… It was Victoria.

Happpppppppyyyy Biiirrtthhdaayyy Crrriiiissss!!!

She remembered and she was actually the first one to congratulate me. Later that day she was also responsible for one of the three times I celebrated it.

I never celebrate it like a normal Dutch person does. I like it and don’t like it at the same time. I always try to be away but with Victoria around there was no escaping it.

But I had to put some clothes on… Super excited. Because I was going back to the first village and meet up with Moly and her grandmother.

Moly’s grandmother was not alone. She brought her best friend… Phaw…

For my birthday we went to their favorite place. A rice field somewhere in the mountains. It was quite the walk, but those two grandmothers walked like the wind. 78 and 74 years old but so strong and agile.

At one point we ran into a cow herder and he asked Moly where they hid me. This because I was so big in comparison to the locals and it is not allowed to stay there overnight. I had to laugh. In the Netherlands I am just normal… At least my length. My body is still that of an Olympic Weightlifter.

Soul Sisters…

They told me some amazing stories during the walk. The one I remember most vividly is that of when they were young they both had the dream of marrying a boy from the same village so they can stay together forever. And so they did… Still together as best friends in the same village…

Well if that isn’t the most beautiful and romantic story you have ever heard I just don’t know anymore…

True soul sisters and they found a way to stay together trough all of the difficult times and conflict the country has known…

The rest of the day we spend on the porch and drank some rice wine. Moly has secretly gotten me a gift gift for my birthday. A handmade scarf she made herself. It is just a gem. But what she didn’t realize, is that spending my day with her, having lunch with her family, drinking wine was the best gift I could ever have…

Even when the little kids asked me if I was in an accident because my entire body was covered in Thanaka. I was completely sunburned by now. And it was the only thing that helped.

I had to laugh a bit.

No I am fine haha. It is just a sunburn.

Time passes on…

Like I always say… Time is the most precious commodity in the world. It can’t be stopped or bought… And you can only spend it once…

That makes the rest of the day even more special. Victoria showed up at the restaurant with the biggest birthday cake I have ever had. Literally I never had such a big one! My name was on it and even a camera. How in the name of god could she have fixed that so quickly!

Time can maybe never be stopped. But these are memories I will forever carry with me…

End of my main objective…

The rest of my remainder of my time I continued photographing as much I could find of the local villages and there was gas in my motorbike. I you have any clue how difficult that is. Normal street photography rules don’t apply if you step into a different world. Not if you want to tell their real story and to be honorable about your work at the same time. Photographs are always given…

The story is also far from over…

Villages with dragon hats, got stung by a bee in my eye, got lost again…

But at one point I had to travel back…

Back to the biggest city of the country…

Back to the former capital…

I shed a little tear when I said goodbye and off I went, back into the night bus…

But it was not all bad. Met up with Sandar again and also gave me a birthday present and took me out for dinner. My third birthday party!!!

Had some amazing conversations with Natalia which I have also met in Yangon. And also Tyler my beer guzzling Australian buddy.

Time to relax after. After all my Holiday sort of started now I was done…

So Cris, will you ever come to the “you are the richest man in the world” part?

I will no worries…

If you have made it this far you have sincerely earned it…

Thank you for that…

The story so far sounds amazing. And honestly by itself it is a once in a lifetime experience. And I could already measure my richness in just this trip. But you probably have discovered that richness for me is not in money…

One of the topics discussed during the lunch is also being proud of who you are and that it is allowed to let it be part of your story… And also that it is allowed to be proud of yourself.

If I look at my life in retrospect I have plenty to be proud of and not in an arrogant kind of way. But I have never stood still for real about that. I mean I know it, but I also know nothing more than grinding… Working hard… Because in my monkey mind that is the only way to achieve my dreams…

My dad dying…

So let me tell you a little bit about myself…

My dad dying was and is still a big reason why I do what I do. Maybe it is also my souls path. But still…

I was only three years old when it happened but thinking of it now makes me remember his funeral very vividly… His coffin, how hard I cried, and the people I sought comfort with.

After my dad died my stepfather did something so atrocious to one of my family members we had to run away in an instant and were literally without a home for a while…

Of course sleeping at your grandparents and uncle at one point is still a roof. But still it’s not a good and healthy way to grow up.

When our family has been through many court sessions and other things we finally found a place for ourselves in the worst neighborhood of the city I lived in.

Waking up from gunshots… Stepping over junkies in the morning to grab my bike to go to school… No money…

The mailman even got beat up. And my gym owner learned me how to shave.

Growing up like that with literally nothing. I was so driven to make most of my life. That of course came with a shitload of mistakes. But the drive was always there. Working, training hard, studying. All at the same time. Too bad days only contained 24 hours… I made myself a promise to escape that life if it was the last thing I did.

And so I did…

I did so many things I am proud of but these are the ones I want to mention.

I achieved something later in age in Olympic Weightlifting I thought I would never do when I picked up my first barbell when I was fifteen.

And became an successful IT engineer at one of the best companies in my country. The same company also gave me the opportunity to follow my dreams to become a photographer and work part time for them.

Even learned to play three instruments and played in an awesome metal band and did some awesome shows.

And now, traveling the world…

With my camera…

As a storyteller, meeting nothing but beautiful souls along the way…

How in gods name can I not be the richest man in the world?…

~ Cristian

Some special mentions I have to make after this story. And if I forgot you. Don’t worry. You are indeed in my heart.

Victoria. Moly. Sandar. Natalia. Sai Arkar Min Tun. William. Marina. Manuela. Stephan. Leonard. Kaitlin. Nick. Lukas. Tyler. Luiza. James. Batman. Sky… My friends back-home. Tino & Alina. Wing. Eelco.

Without you nothing of this was possible.

*Note: Some photographs below. Working on these kind of projects is hard and is not free despite it is super cool to do. And also shooting analog makes it even more expensive and difficult. I still have to work on the side you know… I know my art is not affordable for everyone but there are so many way to support me. Share my name. Share a post or article. Buy a digital print which is cheaper. The options are endless. But please do not distribute my photographs without my consent. In the end when I have developed everything and the editing process will be done it will be up as a project and some handmade, high-end fine art prints will also be available.*

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Some phone snaps…

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Featured on Emulsive

Hey everyone!

I couldn’t think of a better start of the weekend than seeing my ongoing and ever changing project, Neshama Sheli being featured on the Emulsive website!

Go check it out here!

Emulsive is one of the coolest analog photography websites out there. And being on it makes me super happy.

Thanks again for giving me a stage, EM.

While you are at it. There is only three days left on my IndieGoGo crowdfunding campaign. Which can be found here.

Every little helps me making future projects possible.

~ Cristian

Playing with color...

I am a lover…

I am a lover of Black and White photography…

If I had to pick my soul apart and examine that little bit that is responsible for photography you will find out it will consist out of bit and pieces of Ilford Delta 400 or HP5+ and Kodak Tr-X. DDX and HC110.

But in that whole mess of Black, White, and all the shades of grey, there is a secret part that loves color.

Seduced by the wonderful tones of Steve McCurry and his Kodachrome. A mistress of the vibes of William Eggleston. Or a unspoken connection with the works of Harry Gruyaert.

So got myself some rolls of color film. Just because I felt like it!

I have got my hand on some Cinestill 50D and Kodak Ektar. And luckily for a short while there was no shortage of light. Did some casual roaming around. And had no real structure whatsoever. Just photographed everything that peaked my interest. I mean, I will be traveling in a couple of weeks again to work more on my ever evolving Israel project. So casual and just having fun is all I needed for now.

And it was fun! I mean, everyone knows that shooting analog is always a surprise. And way more difficult than digital. Also you don’t have the luxury of your back screen. But in comparison to Black and White you have to think in color.

So I tried to look for some colorful scenes and just clicked away.

Because most of the all color that I did shot lately was digital I was quite excited! So curious what the end results was... I was particularly excited for the Kodak Ektar. No specific reason. I just love the vibe of it, if that is reason enough. I am not very good at describing color pallets…

Me and my big bucket…

Since I do all of my developing myself I developed these rolls myself too. And in comparison to Black and White development I actually think color is more easy. With Black and White you can influence a lot by tweaking your entire developing process. From agitation to different developers and all of it you can think of. With color it is more straightforward and you can fuck less up.

The biggest challenge with color I think is getting everything to 38 degrees Celsius.

If you have followed my Instagram stories of that day. You might have noticed I have used a nifty little trick for that… If you are curious. Well… I guess you just have to follow my Instagram stories in the future to find that out haha.

Pushing it…

No this is not a reference to a Salt-N-Pepa song. But I did pushed it real good! To 400 to be exact. I think I only shot one roll at box speed. That was one of the cinestills’. But since I always like to push it, and 50 and 100 ASA is really not enough. I was like; screw it! Crank it up!

Added 30 seconds per stop to the developing time and it all went down as smoothly as a nice IPA on a sunny day. Or any other day…

Happy as a camper…

When I scanned the results I was indeed happy as a camper. It all looked wonderful and especially the reds really seem to stand out. This is why I shoot film… The smile on my face when you get the rolls out of your tank and seeing you film dry and after that the end result in an beautiful image. Or a sucky one when you screw up haha.

I would have loved to print some, but at home I can only do Black and White printing. I will look at that process maybe at a later time.

Wrapping it up…

Not wanting to make thing one a too long of a post, so I am going to wrap it up. Like I wrote in the beginning, I am about to work on my project again in a couple of weeks. And I need to get everything ready. So here are a couple of images of the rolls. Not all of them, otherwise there is noting left to share at a later moment…

So thank you for reading. And since you have made it this far. Here are the images.

- Cristian

Kodak Ektar 100 EI 400.

Kodak Ektar 100 EI 400.

CInestill 50D EI 400.

CInestill 50D EI 400.

Kodak Ektar 100 EI 400.

Kodak Ektar 100 EI 400.

Cinestill 50D EI 400.

Cinestill 50D EI 400.

Cinestill 50D EI 400.

Cinestill 50D EI 400.

Cinestill 50D EI 400.

Cinestill 50D EI 400.

Cinestill 50D.

Cinestill 50D.

Kodak Ektar 100 EI 400.

Kodak Ektar 100 EI 400.

Kodak Ektar 100 EI 400.

Kodak Ektar 100 EI 400.

Women's March 2019

Hey everyone!

Last Saturday I walked alongside thousands of inspirational women and men who support their cause for equal rights and so much more!

Of course I brought my camera’s and documented the day. Shot some digital. And shot some analog. And the scanning is still not done yet. But here is what I can share at this moment. And when the scanning is done I will either update this post or make a new one.

Hopefully my photographs can be of assistance to the path of equality…

- Cristian

The small KOZP demonstration photo series...

Protest…

Last Saturday I attended the “Kick out Zwarte Piet” demonstration to document it held at the city of the Hague.

In the Netherlands where I live we have a holiday named “Sinterklaas” or in English, Saint Nicholas.

Saint Nicholas is accompanied by Black Piet, and that is where the whole story is about.

Black Piet is portrayed as a black face. And in these times while we try to fight racism so hard on one hand, and the world is getting more polarized on the other. Is there really still a place for a character like Black Piet…

Pro or Against Piet. This is a tumultuous time which exposes some horrible cracks in the, for the outside world, the very tolerant society of the Netherlands.

And that alone makes it an important time for Dutch history…

For me… That means it needed to be documented.

Tolerance…

If you are curious where I stand on this topic…

I am against racism, intolerance, and discrimination in any, way shape or form. Period.

We should go back to Krampus anyway.

He is way cooler and is the first OG of Piets…

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The one about how photography is looked upon across the world. A sour market salesman. And you and your work are important.

Ah Sunday morning...

The day I am finishing up this blog post.

Getting through some world news. Having some coffee. And listening to some vynil. Perfect conditions to finish this story up. It is going to be a long one, so get ready to challenge that millennial attention span! 

We will touch a couple of subjects like GDPR (law), differences how photography is viewed around the world, and that your work is important.

So let's start...

I wanted to write this article for a long time. And my encounter with an incredible sour market salesman in one of the busiest places of Amsterdam sped it up a bit.

I was so happy last Friday. It was finally raining again... Oh boy I waited for that moment so long! Rain for me is the ultimate photographic aphrodisiac. I write about it sometimes in my captions. Rain makes the masks fall off from people. People wear multiple masks. Especially here in the rich west. As soon as it starts raining they disappear and start getting real.

Some get angry, some get happy, and some just don't want to get wet. For me as a photographer that is important because you can document how they are. Not how they pretend to be. That is a big difference in the story you try to tell.

I got on the train and started walking. It was not a bad day, and I think I walked around 12KM or something. My usual distance...

Unfortunately the rain was not as present as I hoped. And it took a while before I got in the flow. But after a while I started to warm up and gotten more and more shots in. 

After a couple of hours I was almost done for that day. But I made small detour because there is always a market in Amsterdam on one of the squares in the city center. And market is a good opportunity to work with layers and lines. 

So I walked around a bit. did some layers shots. Walked to the end. Shot some more. And looked for some interesting scenes, stood still for a bit, and decided to walk back because I was in the mood for a beer.

The moment I decided to walk back I got spoken to by a market salesman sitting on a stool. Apparently he noticed me and he made a very weird remark. And instead of letting it go, or even worse, get affected or angry, I decided to start a conversation with him. 

The reason for this; a couple of weeks earlier the lady of flower shop not far from there started yelling at me because I took a photo of her shop from 20 meters away. And that is quite the distance with the focal length I am shooting with haha.

For your info. I use a Fujifilm X100F at the moment. That one has a fixed focal length of 23mm on a APS-C sensor. That means 35mm Full-Frame.

Normally nobody notices me, or they just don't care. Or they like what I do. Especially when I talk to people. I actually never had any bad experiences before. There are four I have ever had in all the time I have been photographing. Including the sour market salesman.

Once I got a message from someone who thought he could get rich of me. A junkie somewhere in the middle east tried to shoot me, but I think it would have been the same if I walked around that neighborhood without a camera. The flower lady. And the sour market salesman.

Three out of four incident happened in Amsterdam.

Let that sink in...

So before that last situation happened I started thinking about that subject matter. And what it means and let my whole monkey mind go nuts on it.

Remember my monkey mind?

Back to the conversation with the sour market guy.

Because of I was so intrigued by his remark and why he and the flower lady reacted like that I engaged the conversation.

So I stayed very polite. I explained him who I was and what I do. And asked him why he reacted the way he reacted.

The sad thing is, he could not give me a good explanation...

He just kept saying it was not allowed to take pictures. And after I told him what I do with the photographs. A brief history lesson about photography in Amsterdam and Ed van der Elsken. And actually that I am allowed, he still didn't get it.

His buddy who was sitting next to him did get it. And actually was very interested. Thank you sir. You were actually very kind...

After that he started getting mean. He told my I would fail in all of my endeavors, did some additional cursing and some other very rude remarks that were completely unnecessary. And I don't need to repeat to get my point across with this blog post. I giving the situation enough attention as it is already. Also some bystanders came to support me and tell the guy off.

The thing that stood out most from that conversation is he could could not explain himself.

Besides that. The market in that area is based upon selling artwork. So why don't you understand that photography is art?

From a commercial standpoint you are hurting your own business by making a scene in front of your shop. So why do you want to do that?

And I think most import. You are in one of the busiest sections of Amsterdam with your stand. You know that there are a lot of tourist there that just want to have a good time and take photographs. Why in the hell do you think your ego is so important that you can get mad at someone for taking a photograph?

I could go on and on... But I guess I need to start getting to my point before it becomes more of a rant instead of a informational piece.

One of the explanations I gave was that I am documenting life and when I am not traveling I document Amsterdam. His response was; photograph somewhere else.

Of course there is a lot more nuance in the whole conversation. But still...

And I did not even take his photograph. And even if I did, and he didn't like it. He could have told me in a normal civilized matter. I can totally understand that.

But unfortunately being angry and rude to people is a trend see evolving in the city. Espacially bikers yelling at tourist. Come on! You know that you are riding your bike in the city center. Most tourist have never seen so many bikes in their life. So why be angry at them? Just take the other lane one more street further where there is nothing to yell about...

But back to the core of the article!

On "How photography is looked upon in the world"

I was curious; Why!?

It is so strange that of all the places I have been the one back-home is the one with the weirdest reactions?

In Japan for example photography is a big part of the culture. Everyone likes it. Same goes for the entire South-East Asia. You will not have any trouble there. I know tv shows from Korea which are totally dedicated to photography and they follow heroes like Alex Webb and David Alan Harvey.

Northern Africa is a bit more difficult but if you use your common sense you will not have any trouble. But you can run into that sometimes people cover their faces. Same goes for the Middle-East. But that should not give any problems if you are just polite.

And of all places Iran has been the most photo friendly country I have been so far! People want to be in your frame! In Tehran I have gotten so many nice responses. Who would have thought that!

I still have to go to India. But I will be there in October so I can tell you more when I get back.

So why here...

Is it because of the paparazzi that ruined photography for us all?

Is because everyone has a cellphone with a camera on it and we see so many crappy photographs?

Is it because the west is getting less and less educated in art?

Or is it because we have became so wealthy that with all the technology and living in a  "Garden of earthly delights" like society  (the painting by Hieronymus Bosch ) that were are so into instant gratification  and are just motivated money, lust, and ego?

I sincerely hope that someone can tell me that answer. Or maybe I will find out myself in the near future...

It is fascinating how big the difference is from country to country.

It is not all bad. And maybe it even differs from city to city.

For example: In the city of Scheveningen. Which is a small town next to the Hague. There is a huge exhibit going on about Street Photography / Social Documentary which has been shot and exhibited on the beach. And everyone likes it!

The exhibit is on the big pier BTW! It is worth it so go check it out... 

The other things that I took from that conversation is the "I hope you fail...", and "You are not allowed..."

On "I hope you fail..."

Besides it is just very mean to say. I think we as photographers. Or as artists in general we have an very, and I repeat very Important job. We are story tellers. Either it is through photos, painting, music, or sculpting. It is made to move people. Make them happy when they are sad. Heal them or giving a feeling that they are understood. Or even educate people and hold a mirror in front of them. Or maybe even a critique to society...

Also! Art is a way to tell how life was during this time. How it was perceived. I see photography as the only way we have a real life time machine. The one thing that can stop time itself. Other ways do not exist. And there is no way the most important moments in life can be relived than through this medium.

So yes. To everyone that reads this that is a photographer or a artist in general...

Your work matters!

Especially now. In a time when there is more polarization than ever. More conflict among each other. From the Netherlands to the United States. More people dictating each other what they should or shouldn't do. Racism and segregation.

Sometimes for me society feels like we are repeating history and have not learned a damn thing!

So continue to inspire others with all the beautiful work you are making. And never ever do not let someone else tell you otherwise!

You matter!

Not only as a artist. But as a person too...

So ergo. You matter to me...

On "You are not allowed..."

Of course you are!

*Small disclaimer: I am not a lawyer

Besides from that we have established that social documentary is an art form and not paparazzi. And ethically you are not doing anything wrong.

Laws in Europe have changed. GDPR is now in affect. But after I have done lot's and lot's of research on the matter. Nothing has changed actually...

If you are in a public place you are allowed to take photographs. And you don't need to ask for permission in doing so. 

As soon as you press the shutter button you own the copyright.

But! There is always a big but...

You do have to do it from a journalistic, artistic, or educational standpoint.

Some might even think that you have to erase your photograph. But depending on the country you literally don't have too if you don't want too. That goes for European countries and Northern Parts of America. Remember that the copyright is yours.

You cannot use it for commercial purposes. That means you can not sell it to a big brands and say: here, use this one in your marketing campaign. You have to get model releases.

But you can use it as fine art. Make a print. Or a book.

Like always. There are some nuances in play. But I will link some sources (In Dutch) below. So you can read it yourself.

That of course does not mean you can walk around and being an ass and annoy people with your camera. Remember that you have an important job? That can only be done with ethics and a good heart.

My final conclussion...

This experience raised more questions than answers I am afraid. But more about how we treat each other than about art itself.

And maybe even how hypoctritical we are as a society. 

And when you have gotten to this last part of this article probably means you are a photographer yourself. Or a lover for photography.

So let me explain myself with a question I get sometimes.

"Do you ask for permission?"

Well... Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. And if it is not personal work but commissioned or a assignment people know in front that they are photographed.

We look at pretty pictures and all enjoy the works of Steve McCurry, or attend a World Press Photo show, or read the National Geographic... But how do you think those photographs are made?

The decisive moment is once and it disappears in a heartbeat. And you will never get it back. Photographers or artists are the only ones who can make sure it is captured otherwise it is gone forever.

It is not easy to document life. And tell how beautiful the world is. And sometimes very sad...

Let that sink in for a moment and go on by your day...

I guess it is time that I put up another record. I have spend to much time behind the laptop already...

- Cristian

Sources:

NVJ

Arnound Engelfriet (Internet Lawyer)

Ivor Rackham

Freelancer Club

RAW Photo Tours