Kos by Michael C. Geiss

In February 2020, when the coronavirus pandemic was not yet something we were seriously focussing on, I flew to the Greek island of Kos for 12 days to help in a camp for boat refugees. Obtaining accreditation from the Greek government and signing an official document stating that I would not take photographs in the camp were a prerequisite for this.

In order not to jeopardise the work of the small German NGO I was working for (which, alongside the UNHCR, was exclusively responsible for around 3600 refugees from 2015 to 2022), I carried a small compact camera with me, well hidden under my jacket. (Can you really expect a photographer to be travelling without a camera? You can't!).

The closed part of the camp - I'll call it an open-air prison for simplicity's sake - is located on a former military site in the center of the island and can only be entered and left after an ID check. In addition to this, there was also a wild "village" in front of the camp, where recognised boat refugees mainly from Afghanistan, Syria, Iraq, Somalia, Ethiopia and other African countries live.

Those who arrived on the island by boat, usually at night on the beach, from Turkey, which is within sight, were sent to the closed camp until they received a Schengen visa or until they were repatriated (push-backs) to Turkey.

In my opinion, the living conditions for the refugees in the closed camp were inhumane, especially when you consider that we are here within the EU. But this is probably part of the intended deterrent. On average, eight people lived in one container, with around 8-10 containers set up in the areas surrounded by Nato barbed wire. There were shower and toilet containers, but these could only be entered when accompanied by police officers armed with machine guns, as was our warehouse.

People living outside the closed area were free and recognised, but in very few cases were able to leave the island in the direction of Athens. We also provided these people with the bare essentials: clothing, shoes, toiletries and baby food were in short supply, as were toilets, showers and medical care. Men, women, children and babies are almost left to fend for themselves.

The UNHCR provided the refugees with a small amount of money (approx. 80 euros per person per month), the rest of the aid was organised privately, including by numerous helpful Greeks on the island, who did not have much themselves and could not have foreseen that the tourists would disappear as a source of livelihood in the summer, making the situation for the inhabitants much worse.

There are now almost no more refugees on Kos, they have been taken to the other islands (Samos, Lesbos) and to the mainland. I have not publicised these photos to this day, the small NGO has withdrawn from Kos and normality has returned to a certain extent on this beautiful island. The way people were treated there, in an EU country, made me thoughtful, perhaps even a little aggressive.

* On the day I left, a young, heavily pregnant (8 months) Syrian woman, who was still living in the closed part of the camp behind Nato barbed wire, asked me for help, she was to be taken to the mainland the next day with a Schengen visa - unaccompanied by her husband - free to go wherever her feet would take her, problem solved!

07. Januar 2024

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Im Februar 2020, noch war die Corona-Pandemie etwas, was wir nicht ernsthaft im Blickfeld hatten, flog ich für 12 Tage, auf die Griechische Insel Kos, um in einem Lager für Bootsflüchtlinge zu helfen. Der Erhalt einer Akkreditierung durch die Griechische Regierung, sowie meine Unterschrift unter ein offizielles Dokument, dass ich nicht im Lager fotografieren werde, waren eine Voraussetzung hierfür. Um die Arbeit der kleinen Deutschen NGO, für die ich tätig war, nicht zu gefährden (diese war exklusiv seit 2015 bis 2022, neben dem UNHCR, für die damals rund 3600 Flüchtlinge zuständig) habe ich eine kleine Kompaktkamera, unter meiner Jacke gut versteckt mitgeführt. (Kann man von einem Fotografen wirklich erwarten, dass er ohne Kamera unterwegs ist? Kann man nicht!). Der geschlossene Teil des Lagers, ich nenne es mal, der Einfachheit wegen, Freiluftgefängnis, auf einem ehemaligen Militärgelände im Inneren der Insel gelegen, darf nur nach Ausweis-Kontrolle betreten und verlassen werden. Neben diesem, gab es noch ein wildes „Dorf" vor dem Lager, hier hausen anerkannte Boots-Flüchtlinge überwiegend aus Afghanistan, Syrien, Irak, Somalia, Äthiopien sowie weiteren Afrikanischen Ländern. Wer per Boot auf die Insel kam, meistens Nachts am Strand, aus der in Sichtweite gelegen Türkei anlandete, kam in das geschlossene Lager, bis zum Erhalt eines Schengen Visums, oder bis zur Rückführung (Push-Backs) in die Türkei. Die Lebensumstände für die Flüchtlinge im geschlossenen Camp waren aus meiner Sicht menschenunwürdig, besonders wenn man bedenkt, dass wir hier innerhalb der EU sind. Aber dies ist wohl ein Teil der gewollten Abschreckung. Acht Personen hausten durchschnittlich in einem Container, jeweils zirka 8-10 Container waren in den mit Nato-Stacheldraht umgebenen Arealen aufgebaut. Es gab Dusch & WC Container, die aber nur in Begleitung der, mit Maschinenpistolen bewaffneten, Polizisten aufgesucht werden durften, wie auch unser Waren-Lager. Vor dem geschlossenen Bereich lebende Menschen waren frei und anerkannt, aber konnten in den wenigsten Fällen die Insel in Richtung Athen verlassen. Auch diese Menschen wurden von uns mit dem Allernötigsten versorgt, Kleidung, Schuhe, Hygieneartikel und Babynahrung waren dort Mangelware, wie auch WC´s und Duschen oder medizinische Versorgung. Männer, Frauen, Kinder und Babys leben hier nahezu sich selbst überlassen. Der UNHCR, hat den Flüchtlingen einen kleinen Geldbetrag (ca. 80 Euro im Monat pro Person) zukommen lassen, die restliche Hilfe war privat organisiert, auch von zahlreichen hilfsbereiten Griechen auf der Insel, die selbst nicht viel hatten und noch nicht ahnen konnten, dass im Sommer die Touristen als Lebensgrundlage ausbleiben würden, wodurch sich die Lage für die Einwohner massiv verschlechtert hat. Inzwischen sind nahezu keine Flüchtlinge mehr auf Kos, diese wurden auf die anderen Inseln (Samos, Lesbos) und auf das Festland gebracht. Ich habe diese Photos bis heute nicht öffentlich gemacht, die kleine NGO hat sich aus Kos zurückgezogen und es ist wieder einigermaßen Normalität eingekehrt auf dieser schönen Insel. Die Art wie Menschen dort, in einem EU Land, behandelt wurden, hat mich nachdenklich, vielleicht auch ein wenig aggresiv gemacht.*

* Am Tag meiner Abreise hat mich eine junge, hochschwangere (8. Monat) Syrische Frau, die noch im geschlossenen Teil des Camps hinter Nato-Stacheldraht wohnte, um Hilfe gebeten, sie sollte -ohne- Begleitung ihres Mannes am nächsten Tag, mit einem Schengen Visum auf

Michael C. Geiss

omas

The harbor of Muara Angke

The commemoration of 13 February 1945 – 2011

Sagar Dan by Michael Kennedy

When we met half-way across the lobby of the LeLat Great Eastern Hotel in Calcutta six weeks ago, I knew I had been right all along. Despite a well-honed mask of world-weary cynicism, I’m still delighted and impressed by people who can make me a better person by the strength of their character.

Sagar Dan, a life-long resident of Burdwan, a small town near Calcutta in West Bengal, is such a person.

Years ago, I stopped walking the wheel every day for a comfortable salary and retired so I could take back control of my life. This allowed me to return to photography, an early passion without the soul-crushing embarrassment of looking up my “Wendy” who left long ago because I prolonged my adolescence way too long. She knows who she is, how much she still means to me. Yet a camera never asks about our lack of ambition, or if we’ve been unfaithful. The only other relationship that tops this involves a dog.

Once I began to make some in-roads in the Facebook Community of photographers – especially street photography, Sagar Dan contacted me out of the blue to encourage me to post photographs to his long-time site, “Street Photography (Candid) of Calcutta and rest of the World.” Dan’s support has been rock solid for the past six years.

I do not make a practice of contacting FB-related photographers about meeting up with them in their home city if I happen to be in the neighborhood. It seems too lame. Besides, what happens if there is a serious disconnect between the photographer and the impressive visual image.

“Hi, and good-bye.”

I had planned to spend time in Calcutta on my recent travels to India, yet there was something about Dan that made me change my attitude about meeting him.

In his case, as Americans often say: “He is the real deal.”

And so, as we shook hands finally and exchanged salutations in the hotel lobby, I instantly felt like I was in the company of an old friend – not someone I was meeting for the first time.

In the late fall of 2020, I assisted with ProgressivE-Zine Issue #22: India – In The Age of COVID 19. This edition featured 11 photographers from India, including Dan. So I knew he was an extremely talented photographer, as well as having a Doctorate in Australian Literature. Yet how Dan described his view of street photography in the ProgressivE-Zine issue seemed a natural unspoken aspect of his character during the brief time I spent with him at the hotel in Calcutta.

“The most important thing for a street photographer is not the camera, or post-production software. It is the inner eye, or the heart, by which one can empathize with others and recognize our common humanity. It is not our story; we are respectful observers of other people and their journey through this world. So, first, it is important to feel the story, and then document discreetly without any pretense.”

And perhaps that last word sums Dan up best: he is without any pretense.

And what a delight it is to encounter people without any pretense. People who show us who they are by the example of their character – rather than tell us who they are with the insecurity of a coked-up squirrel.

We asked Sagar Dan to send us some new photos for a little feature.

Talking about India

Below you can read Michael's interview of Sagar for our magazine, the report of Michael's last trip and the three PPH books on India. And other articles by Niklas Lindskog, Shimi Cohen, Myriam Aadli, Siddhartha Mukherjee, Shubhodeep Roy

(Interview by Michael Kennedy)

I’m a life-long resident of Burdwan, a small town near Calcutta, in West Bengal. I have a doctorate in Australian Literature, and work as an Assistant Teacher at the high school-level.

As a street photographer, the most important factor is authentic scenes of life. Since the early days of my odyessy, I have always been passionate about documentung people on the streets. In the 1990s, I used a film camera for street photography and this felt luxurious. By the digital age, I prefered to shoot as much as possible wherever I traveled. This always involvd a quick assessment of faces and body language, like a deep look into the character of my subjects in a decisive moment that was more significant than any shutter speed.

The fascination of street photography is that this milieu features all the basic narratives of life. In a culture like India. the stories from the streets change powerfully every hundred miles.

I find that documenting every significant moment on the street to be unique and emotional. Every character is the protagonist of a story that I want to capture within a little play of light and shadow. It is these stores that inspire me in my journey as a street photographer.

In India, one can easily find an abundance of characters in the streets that represent every facet of life. The lines upon a face of a character are always different if you travel from one district to another district. The change of daily life and livelihood inspires so many visual narratives.

Regardless of popular destinations like Calcutta, Jaipur, New Delhi, Varanasi - this can never give one a true picture of India. The story of India is the story of her villages. The poster boy of Bollywood films never tells the true story of Indian characters. The life of Indian people, their struggle for existence in the midst of constantly changing social conditions - and how this is truly reflect in their faces, this is the story that matters most.

That's why, as a street photographer, I attempt to depict the true portrait of every human I document through the lens..

It is very hard for the photographers from outside of India to catch the unique story of Indian street life. Yes, it is as 'visual feast' for some, but it is a hard life to us. One can easily frame their misery or livelihood, but it is not easy to understand their story of life.

An outsider cannot communicate with the locals, since the people of the streets are very camera-phobic to someone who is not from their community. So, documentation of Indian street life may seem possible for anyone - yet the true spirit of street photography of telling a story through his characters is miles away.

As previously noted, the story of Indian street photography is a bit different from other countries, one must include every aspects of Indian life whether it is the people of posh Bangalore or the beggars, saints and the lunatics of Haridwar. The main focus must be the life of Indian age-old tradition and culture which is germinated day by day with its people from all social classes, castes and creeds.

I regard India as the best place for street photography. I have visited six countries, mostly South East Asia and Australia - sometimes with lengthy stays. Since my doctoral studentship occurred in Australia, I had the chance to observe the culture of street life in far more detail than a fleeting tourist.

Many people may not realize that India is a federal union comprising 28 states and eight union territories, for a total of 36 entities. I have visited more than 15 states in my country, and now can better distinguish the daily story of people according to their appearance, as well as their social structure.

In the early stage of the COVID-19 pandemic, I captured some of migration labourers and their families who have travelled a long distance to reach their home without food and money during national lockdown. Yet I have never published these photos. It is very uncomfortable to share these stories as a professional photojournalist might do. Naturally, the pandemic has totally changed the streets of India - and people of a so-called privileged class, now fear to go near people of streets. Social distancing is a vague term in light of the life of the general people of India. One has to earn their daily bread by coming out in to the street, and reaching their desrination without any convenient transport system.

Everything here is affected by different situations mixed with myriad political agendas from the ruler and the opposition. The streets of India are now changing, and the future will take a shape different from the past.

I prefer to shoot at any time of my daily routine. I rely on a mobile phone that is good for street photography. Yet for the story of the street, I have to plan about place and time - which I generally do once in a month.

The railway station is my favourite place to photograph in my town, since it is connected -more or less, to all the routes of Indian states. This allows me to easily catch the people of different states and the evidence of their journey.

Believe me, India is now suffering greatly and her people of the streets are in very dire circumstances - if not completely doomed. Lots of people have lost their jobs and their livelihood. Daily labourers and their families cannot earn a day’s worth of food, as all work and projects are locked down in these times.
My only project is to help these people by any means, whether providing daily work in my village house or helping them with a day’s food for a family. It is a big task, yet I can still help at least one family at a time. Documenting the sufferings of people is too hard to bear. You could not capture the image of a moment of family who is now eating their rice after a two-day walk from their factory to their village. We must come forward to help those in distress in these hard times. And now I am trying to do this with the help of my friends.

I prefer to shoot the street with my only camera, a Canon 600D and an 85 mm 1.4 fixed lenses. Once I used a 50 mm 1.4 which is also good for the street, yet I prefer a modest telephoto lens for some distance.

As a teacher, I’ve never pursued photography for financial gain. It is not my cup of tea. I do so strictly for my aesthetic pleasure. But this pandemic has changed my attitude. If it is possible, I will approach the people to help for my daily labour friends and their families.

The most important thing for a street photographer is not the camera, or post-production software. It is the inner eye, or the heart, by which one can empathize with others and recognize our common humanity. It is not our story; we are respectful observers of other people and their journey through this world. So, first, it is important to feel the story, and then document discreetly without any pretense.

Dr Sagar Dan

My FB page: https://www.facebook.com/muhurto.sagar

Michael Kennedy’s 18-day trip to India from November 13 to November 30

click

Keef Charles 15/11/2023

Bruno Lavi 30/06/2022

Michael Kennedy 18/04/2019

Niklas Lindskog: Greetings from India! – March 2023

Myriam Aadli - *Few days in Kolkata with Friends*

***Exploring Kolkata by Public Transportation***

‘Vampires on the Streets of New York’ By Martin Ingber

There are Vampires that prowl the streets of New York City -but they disguise themselves as greedy landlords, crooked politicians, heartless drug dealers, billionaire bankers, and other inhuman parasites. These evil monsters walk among us, draining the lifeblood of any poor soul unfortunate enough to become their prey.

But this Halloween, as the gloom of night fell on the city, I happened to meet a very different community of Vampires. These were a lively group, a lot better looking, and far more fun. They had traveled here all the way from San Antonio, in Texas, to take part in New York’s annual Village Halloween Parade. It was a crowded and chaotic scene; but I had my camera, and was able to capture some pictures before the waves of people around us began to sweep them uptown.

It may sound like a scary experience, interacting with Vampires while surrounded by ghouls, skeletons, and nightmarish creatures of every imaginable kind. But I am a native New Yorker, and we are notoriously tough to kill.

‘Taking it to the Streets’

Marmaid Parade

Two of the things I find most rewarding in life are exploring my home town, New York; and photographing some of the infinite variety of unexpected, fascinating and colorful subjects that the city contains, waiting to be discovered...

The Price of Waiting by Rowel Timoteo

Waiting is about expecting something to happen. Every day, we observe our surroundings while waiting. We create different stories in our heads while our eyes are collecting data and processing it in our thoughts. We tend to daydream, reminiscing about the good old days. Deeply, our minds continue to accept surges of multiple streams of thoughts. But sometimes we can get stuck in situations where we are forced to wait. We endure countless hours of inconvenience, leading to frustrations that threaten our peace of mind. Sometimes waiting games challenge the patience of our minds.

Through these photos, I aimed to convey the essence of waiting.

I am grateful to Progressive Street for inspiring me to express my observations through writing.

Traffic and Streets

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Traffic and Streets by Rowell Timoteo

Every day, the constant agony of commuters during rush hour at this time is inevitable. Looking through the window glass of our car, I captured the flow of time during rush hour on the roads of Metro Manila when we were on our way home to La Union. As my curious eye saw the wandering movement of everything around me, I slowly reached for my camera to get my rhythm to blend with the speed of our car while preparing my eyes for the gifts of the streets that I could unravel in that fraction of time. I saw different flashes of urban reality. Unsettling crowds, weaving traffic jams of cars, and people crossing in between—chaos is converging in the streets of Manila.

The stress of the traffic jam at that time allowed me to connect visually with the surroundings and people outside of our traveling car.

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Rowell Timoteo

The sea of life by Rowel Timoteo

The sea of life, is a gift for many generations of fishermen. They work hard, sacrifice many things just to make ways of providing a livelihood for their family. Most of the time, they work in a group casting big nets in the sea hoping to have better opportunities in the sea. Sometimes their journey to the sea entails risks and uncertainties because most of the time they only rely on intuition, some don't have enough knowledge about the changing climate in the sea. Despite the hard-hitting waves and long hours in the water, Sailing fishermen return with their catch before sunset as their family and friends are waiting for their arrival to help them segregate the fishes on the shore while their children are playing.

Their daily journey to the sea with their small-craft and non-motorized wooden boats test their faith, skills, teamwork and focus in the water to catch more fish. It's a gamble, being a fisherman is not an easy job, but they make sacrifices to provide a livelihood for their family while they sell their catch to the streets and in the market.

Generally, a fisherman's life is simple, they celebrate small things, one motivating factor for fishermen striving in life is their aspiration for the education of their children that they are hoping to provide and this is enough reason for them to persevere in life. Returning to the shore with abundant catch or none, The most crucial thing is, that they return to their families safely.

Fishing is one of the primary sources of livelihood for small-scale fishermen and their families living in Rimos No. 5, one of the coastal barangays in Luna, La Union, Philippines.

Rowell Timoteo

... at a School in Sinai, Egypt, 2000 by Cassian Edwards

A Day Talking Sea Turtles at a School in Sinai, Egypt, 2000.

In 2000 I worked on a sea turtle conservation project in Egypt, researching nesting distribution along the Mediterranean shoreline of northern Sinai. At the time little was known about where turtles nested along these beaches, and our study was the first to research the area between Port Said at the northern end of the Suez Canal in the west, and the border with Palestine and the Gaza Strip in the east. The main aim of our research was to a) find out where sea turtles nested along this 200km stretch of shoreline, and b) to estimate hatching success of each nest, i.e. how many of the eggs that were laid resulted in a turtle hatchling leaving the nest.

During the summer season female sea turtles crawl out of the ocean and up the shore at night time to nest, mainly where lights are low and human activity is at a minimum, leaving characteristic tracks as they do so. Once they have found a suitable spot - and so long as they are not disturbed - they will dig a small hole in the sand and lay upwards of sixty eggs at a time before covering the nest over and returning back to the sea. These eggs hatch approximately two months later, the hatchlings venturing down the beach and out to sea.

Working with my Egyptian colleagues we conducted daily surveys of sections of the northern Sinai beachfront over the summer looking for turtle tracks; if we found tracks we would then ascertain if a nest had been made and eggs laid in it, before recording the location and leaving it alone. Nests were then returned to on a regular basis thereafter, especially towards the end of the two month incubation period. By revisiting nests and counting the shells that were left behind, which would often have incomplete embryos in them, we were able to estimate the hatching success of each nest.

This photo shows residual Loggerhead turtle shells left behind in a nest that had hatched. Fifty-five eggs were laid of which fifty hatched - a hatching success rate of 90.91%.

Towards the end of my time in Egypt my team and I gave a talk about sea turtles to a junior school in the town of Sheikh Zuweid, near Rafah at the Egyptian border with the Gaza Strip. Most of the children were from Bedouin families and hardly any of them had seen a Westerner like me before! They had, however, seen turtle tracks and quite a few of them had dug up the eggs to eat; others had also consumed turtles caught by fishermen even though under Egyptian law it is illegal to do either. Likewise, many Bedouin women drink the iron-rich turtle blood as it is believed to help boost fertility. Yet the fact remains that the number of sea turtles in the Mediterranean Sea has sadly declined massively over the last few decades, and continues to do so.

So we were asked by the Egyptian Environmental Affairs Agency to talk to the children and their parents about the turtles, in the hope that in time perhaps they would act as the turtle’s future guardians. Class by class we went around the school talking about the natural history of these incredible animals, to the delight and intrigue of everyone, for most knew next to nothing about them! We also gave out notepads with pictures of turtles on the front and back with writing about their life-cycle inside, and we spent hours answering question after question about these animals which have been around since dinosaur times! The kids were fascinated!

Admittedly my Arabic wasn’t that great, in fact very basic, so it was my Egyptian colleagues who did most of the talking. But thankfully I had remembered to bring a camera with me, and I was able to capture the amazing attentive faces of these wonderful children, as well as the joy and excitement they expressed at having an ‘outsider’ and someone ‘new’ come to their school for the day! It really was a fun and eventful day, as I hope the pictures show. But the true magic for me was that last year I was contacted by one of the girls who I photographed at that school after she had seen a photo that I had posted online. Back then in 2000 she was 9 years old, but now she was 29, Dr Hasan, a dentist, and running her own dental practice in Cairo! And although she didn’t end up as a marine ecologist like me, she sure remembered all about the life-cycle of the sea turtle and that incredibly enjoyable day when I came to visit and talk to her school about the animals.

Cassian Edwards

The incredible story of Lidia, Jesús y Toti by Federico Borobio

We arrived in Santa Ana del Valle, Oaxaca, in the middle of siesta time. Almost like a stereotype, a skinny dog crossing the deserted central plaza, a woman half-opening the door of her house and peeking outside. Her face, the blue apron and the door in the same color immediately triggered my photographic alerts and I approached her. We began to talk immediately. Behind her we could see an old wooden loom and adobe walls. As soon as I asked her about it, she invited us in. In fact, she insisted that we do so and get to know the century-old house. I was accompanied by Ray, the 87-year-old street photographer I met in Oaxaca, and his good friend Carlos, who usually acted as the guide. So it was that we spent the afternoon with Lidia García and her dog Toti, a scrawny, lazy Great Dane who loved to be petted as much as he loved to sprawl in the fresh dirt yard.

On my side, I interspersed questions about her life and shooting with my little Lumix, while she continued talking quite naturally. She mentioned that she was in fact used to the cameras, as she had participated in several commercials and even in a movie, called Los Angeles. We were all dumbfounded: the charming Toltec weaver from this town with 2000 inhabitants, on film sets, was not in our plans. But this was just the first surprise, an introduction to the incredible story that was to come.

Lidia told us that her role was as the mother of a teenager leaving his small town in Mexico to seek for luck in the United States and help his family. We noticed that she slowly began to break down. Sadness came over her, eyes reddened, tears flowed. I lowered my camera. She took some time, pulled herself together, and began to explain to us the reason for the emotion she could not contain: the story of the film and her personal story were incredibly similar. Her own son, Jesús, had left as a young boy for the United States many years before, and she never heard from him again. Nothing, no contact, Lidia did not even know if he was alive. But it did not end there. No.

In fact, during the making of the film she was overcome with grief, which prompted the director to come over to see what was going on, and Lidia told him. Damian John Harper, born in Boulder, Colorado, was 36 years old at the time. Possibly the same age as Jesús. Moved, he promised Lidia that he would find her son. As you can imagine, by this point in the story, we were completely stunned and expectant of the ending. And the ending happened at the premiere of the movie: that day Jesús appeared and was reunited with his mother after years without any contact. Movie ending (worth the expression, of course). Ray, Carlos and I breathed a sigh of relief, incredulous, happy, smiling. Toti sensed the change in the atmosphere and saw the opportunity. He stood up on his long, gangly legs and joined the scene by promenading his head under Ray's big rough hands.

Federico Borobio

AI: artificial and human stupidity

The child was wearing a costume, but the AI was unable to recognize it as such.

However, we decided not to argue with FB and agreed to delete the image without penalizing the photographer.

This is such a sweet story by Dick Verton.

"Capturing the Spirit: A Visual Journey through the Galway Races" by Steve Scott

**Capturing the Spirit**

**by Steve Scott**

The Galway Races, with its rich and captivating history, dating back to the early 18th century began as a local affair has blossomed into an international spectacle, drawing race-goers and horse enthusiasts from all corners of the globe. Nestled in the heart of Galway, Ireland, this iconic event has woven itself into the fabric of the region's culture and holds an indelible place in the hearts of both local residents and racing enthusiasts worldwide, from the electrifying atmosphere of the Galway Plate and the Galway Hurdle to the elegance of Ladies' Day.

For Galwegians, The Galway Races are more than just a sporting event – they are an integral part of the city's identity and heritage. The races provide a platform for showcasing Galway's vibrant culture, hospitality, and sense of community. Locals take immense pride in welcoming visitors and sharing the joy of the races, making it a true celebration of their hometown.

Athenry Car Boot Sale

Steve Scott

The Valley Of Peace by Tanmoy Chatterjee

Once again, Tanmoy Chatterjee tells a strong story with his images of places and people, reconstructing his sensations for us. Tanmoy’s work is an excellent example of how to narrate with pictures and words. It’s a situation beautifully portrayed.

Capturing The Serenity Amidst The Shadows is a great caption for this story that tells us about a territory so out of the international spotlight but at the centre of a perennial conflict.

Capturing The Serenity Amidst The Shadows

In the heart of turmoil, the Valley of Kashmir emerges as a haven of tranquility. Captured through my lens a decade ago, these images defy the chaos that intermittently engulfs the region. The landscape, kissed by the Himalayan embrace, reveals a resilience that transcends conflict.

Markets bustle with life as artisans and merchants persist, undeterred by shadows that threaten to linger. Amidst unrest, families gather, sharing stories under starlit skies, and children's laughter rings through meadows untouched by time.
Pilgrimage sites stand as pillars of hope, their spiritual significance transcending the clamor of discord. These images reflect a Kashmir that yearns for peace, a Kashmir where moments of tranquility persist against the odds.

The valley's narrative ebbs and flows, yet these photographs serve as an enduring testament to a community's determination to embrace life amidst uncertainty. As the years pass, they remain a visual testament to a people's unwavering spirit, preserving hope for a future where serenity triumphs over chaos.

Tanmoy Chatterjee is a National Award Winning (Government of India), travel and documentary photographer based in Kolkata, India. With an experience of more than 20 years in this field, he has travelled across India, documenting various festivals, cultures and historical places.

The Festival Of Durga Puja

The Darjeeling Himalayan Railways

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Kids Playing in the Ghats of Kolkata by Debraj Purkayastha

**Kids Playing in the Ghats of Kolkata**

**Debraj Purkayastha**

Kolkata, also known as the "City of Joy," seamlessly blends traditions, culture, and memories with its bustling urban landscape.

One of the city's nostalgic memories is of children playing in the iconic ghats*, which have always been a hub of joy, recreation, and bonding for people of all ages, creating a lasting nostalgia that warms the hearts of those who have grown up witnessing these enchanting scenes. Located primarily along the banks of the Hooghly River, the ghats have been integral to Kolkata's culture and history for centuries, serving as gathering points for spiritual rituals, leisurely strolls, and heartwarming interactions.

*a flight of steps leading down to a river

DEBRAJ PURKAYASTHA PHOTOGRAPHY

Debraj Purkayastha

ghats of Kolkota

Focus On Christophe Boch

I chose to feature Christophe for this Focus On because his photographic style is refreshingly progressive. While we typically avoid images with exaggerated structure, Christophe's personal technique is exceptional and always unique. We love exploring different styles and spirits, so now I'll hand it over to him:

It's often difficult to me to find the words when I was ask to explain my Photographic Universe, and Especialy that "So Particular" style I put in the actual Photography Landscape. Usualy I was ask about technic, but for me technic comes in a second time only when I paint my Photographies. Yes like a said, I paint my Photographies, I don't edit them... It's totaly different in the Philosophy I bring throught my Photography Art.

I would particulary thanks my dear Friend Batsceba Hardy who told me "Ok" when I ask here if I can express myself "freely" in this interview.

Pearaps, I would really thanks again Progressive Street Photography, because like you know, my style will sweat perfect to the term of "Progressive".

I was born as a Medium, so since child I "See" and Fell some invisible things who surounded us. That's the reason my work is a real Mystical process and initiation in Other Worlds and Universes as thoose who we usualy know.

"Reality" like you cold that, isn't Real !

That's a fact ! We are All a Product of Cosmos before being childrens of Hearth. And my Cosmic vision, is Simply unique. I speak about cause it's important, but I was nursed by a Dog when I was a Child. So I have the Vision of an Animal, not as a Human.

When I start in Photography, I was working Only in colors, but always using the same Artistic Process, let my Soul play and Paint my works. I'm just the Eye who catch the Scenary. That's all, All who come after is my purest mystical Soul Expression. Without technic. Only Feeling. Feeling and only feeling. Cause if you look good at my works, You will see much more than just "One" Photography. You will find an Infinite numbers of differents pictures in just one of my catch.

Concerning the "Magic" that's most difficult to explain. I bring often High contrasts, Deep blacks, and Whites, always chasing Light in each catch, to bring out of my Pictures, What I see as Medium with a Cat Eye, and I'm sure of one thing, you Feel my Photography, before You watch it... So I let you try the Experience, to find in Yourself a Totaly other Dimension in your Own Art. That's what a teach to my Students. To dive deeper in their photos, to Bring out a Real Dimension and Show something more than just a pic.

I'm just a Visionar, before being a Photographer.

That's All.

If you want to know more, Feel free to contact me my Dear Friends.

An Other point I want to add, I try to use modern technology to bring out the Essence as The Giants like Cartier Bresson, Daïdo Moriyama, Marc Riboud had in their works at the All begining of "modern" Photography. Like I usualy say, I don't make photography, it's Photography who make me.

Christophe Boch

TheShooter

Trafalgar Square in 1984 by Eyal Izhar

Many years have passed and I'm almost certain it was the summer in London, 1984. Or maybe it was the summer of 1987 when I went back to London for my honeymoon. But how stupid i would have been to take the wonderful Metz 45ct and my old Hasselblad with me on my honeymoon. So yes, it was the summer of 1984 when I arrived on a vacation and was foolish enough and curious enough to be dragged along as a tourist with such equipment for street photography in a foreign city. An attempt to continue with my street photography ( I think this term didn't exist at the 80' ) , taking snapshots using a hand held Hasselblad camera, that I had already begun in Israel, exploring human behavior in open spaces, families and tourists in public, moving, relating to each other, exploring the relation to the surrounding, the subjects's physical gestures.
What caught my eye in Trafalgar Square was the human diversity, locals but especially the tourists who always intrigue me as a photographer. I'm fascinated by the observing and photography of foreigners from different cultures, who comes from afar and spends a short time in a new, intriguing and challenging environment when his foreignness, in clothing, in language, in awe of the new and unfamiliar is evident. People came to feed and take pictures and especially to be excited by pigeons. If there's a bird I really don't like, it's a pigeon. And on the streets, for photographers, it's not always easy with people. So that's Two barriers that need to be dealt with. And in general, to come from India or the USA to London, feed a pigeon and take a picture with it? Is this the best that London has to offer?
I don't know much about those taking pictures with pigeons: not the country of origin, not social status, not the purpose of the visit. I only know that they are so happy in those seconds when London's doves is with them , on them.
Each frame here is the single shot taken. Kind of high stakes. When there are only 12 frames in the roll, the camera has no motor, I couldn't shoot more and more.

Eyal Izhar

Place project: the reception hall at Ben Gurion Airport, Israel by Uri Zilberman

In the process of the project the focusing change from people to balloons. We noticed that the balloons actually talk instead of the people. Just like the body speaks for us. Just as the echoes of a headache, for example, are the words that are stuck in our head, the words that we are afraid to say - so the balloons also speak to us about our feelings. For example, that young man who holds a red heart balloon and indicates with an embossment that he is waiting for a beloved girlfriend or the grandfather who holds a balloon in the shape of a bear. It is not difficult to understand that he is waiting for a grandson or granddaughter. Or that group of young people who are holding a bunch of balloons designed in the shape of a flower and are probably waiting for older relatives. And let's not forget the street artists who specialized in designing different shapes for balloons. What does it mean? The shape is a language. Each balloon is a word, sentence, saying and even a whole story. No wonder I encountered in the reception hall those who held balloons for a long time and did not let go. If they slack off a little, the words will disappear out of the

Sharing the project I spent long hours at the airport. And I was amazed to see the amount of balloons there. That is, they also have a cultural-local aspect. In the old days, people welcomed those who came only themselves. No balloons, or flowers. Then there were the placards with the inscriptions of "Welcome back" and then moved to flowers. Now is probably the time of the balloons. It is enough to look at the ceiling of the reception hall. There are no end balloons stuck there. A carpet of balloons. There are special people who take down the balloons from the ceiling once a week. It’s, update their quantity and popularity. In other words, I have no choice but to concentrate on the balloons. I understood that they are the most accurate for the story of the meeting and with all the strengths and subtleties. If so, the more accurate name of the project is: balloons instead of people or the balloons that talk.

Furthermore, I noticed that the balloons tell the whole story. it even occurred to me that the balloons tell us the story of the meeting before the meeting, while waiting, even before the meeting. As the camera captures the moment, so the balloons are constantly holding emotions. They are the emotions themselves.

Uri Zilberman

Winter in Transylvania

Athenry Car Boot Sale by Steve Scott

Photography has always been a captivating medium for preserving memories and capturing the essence of a moment in time. As a resident of Athenry, Co. Galway, I have found myself drawn to a particular event that encapsulates the vibrancy and diversity of our local community—the car boot sale. This bustling gathering of sellers and buyers, held in the heart of Athenry, has become a significant part of my life, inspiring me to document its unique charm through the lens of my camera. In this short introduction, I will share my passion for photographing the local car boot sale and explain why it holds a special place in my heart.

One of the reasons I am drawn to photographing the local car boot sale is the incredible diversity it offers. Every month, people from all walks of life gather at this event to sell a wide range of goods, from antiques and collectibles to second-hand clothing and household items. The dynamic nature of the car boot sale means that each visit is a fresh opportunity to discover something new, capturing the excitement and surprises that unfold before my lens.

Beyond the commercial aspect, the car boot sale serves as a meeting point for the local community. It fosters a sense of camaraderie as neighbors, friends, and even strangers come together to exchange stories, haggle over prices, and form connections. These interactions create an atmosphere filled with laughter, enthusiasm, and a shared sense of purpose. Through my photography, I strive to capture these human connections, freezing them in time and showcasing the strong sense of community that thrives at the car boot sale.

Furthermore, the car boot sale provides a unique insight into the cultural tapestry of Athenry. From traditional Irish crafts and homemade baked goods to vintage artifacts that reflect our heritage, this event becomes a microcosm of our town's rich history and traditions. By photographing these elements, I aim to celebrate and preserve the essence of our local culture, documenting the diverse tapestry that exists within our community.

In addition to its cultural significance, the car boot sale also serves as a treasure trove of visual inspiration. The colorful stalls, interesting displays, and curious items on offer present an abundance of photographic opportunities. From close-up shots of intricate trinkets to candid portraits of enthusiastic shoppers, each photograph encapsulates a unique story, a moment frozen in time that allows me to share the captivating allure of the car boot sale with others.

In conclusion, photographing my local car boot sale in Athenry, Co. Galway has become a deeply cherished endeavor. Through my camera lens, I have discovered a captivating world filled with diverse characters, vibrant interactions, and a deep-rooted sense of community. This ongoing visual documentation not only allows me to preserve precious memories but also serves as a tribute to the rich cultural heritage and unique charm that defines our local car boot sale.

Steve Scott

A JOURNEY OF TRANSFORMATION by Prachi Nisha Shetty

DOCUMENTING PANDHPUR WARI

Life-changing experiences are often unexpected, taking us on journeys that challenge our perspectives and transform our lives forever. One such profound encounter in my life was documenting the extraordinary pilgrimage of Pandharpur Wari. This sacred journey, undertaken by millions of devotees, unravelled the essence of devotion, spirituality, and human connection. As I embarked on this adventure, little did I know that it would not only change my perception of faith but also leave an indelible mark on my soul.

The sun-drenched streets of Pandharpur reverberated with divine energy as the rhythmic chants of "Vithoba Mauli" filled the air. The annual Wari pilgrimage, dedicated to Lord Vithoba, had commenced. Armed with my camera and a heart brimming with anticipation, I joined the sea of devotees marching towards the holy city. The magnitude of this spiritual odyssey struck me as I witnessed people from diverse backgrounds united by their unwavering faith.

With every step I took, I encountered people with stories etched onto their faces. The devotion in their eyes was both captivating and humbling. Old and young, rich and poor, all came together, transcending societal boundaries. In their hearts, there was no room for differences; there was only the shared love for their beloved Lord Vithoba. The energy that surged through the crowds was electrifying, infused with an unyielding belief that transformed ordinary people into spiritual beings.

Pandharpur Wari not only evoked religious fervour but also offered a glimpse into the tapestry of humanity. As I interacted with fellow pilgrims, I discovered stories of sacrifice, resilience, and compassion. Strangers became friends, sharing meals and moments of laughter. The burden of their lives seemed momentarily lifted, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose. In that space, I witnessed the power of collective devotion and the beauty of human connection.

The Wari pilgrimage was not merely a physical journey but a cultural kaleidoscope. The music, dance, and rituals intertwined harmoniously, reflecting the vibrant heritage of Maharashtra. The rhythmic beats of the mridang drums echoed through the streets, invoking primal energy. Dancers twirled, their vibrant attire creating a visual symphony. I captured these moments, aiming to encapsulate the essence of this rich cultural mosaic, forever preserving it in my photographs.

Amidst the chaos and exuberance, I found a quiet space within myself—a sanctuary for introspection and self-discovery. Pandharpur Wari became a mirror through which I confronted my own beliefs, values, and aspirations. It taught me that spirituality transcends religious dogmas and resides in the depths of our hearts. I questioned my own faith, grappling with the concept of devotion and the nature of the divine connection. This pilgrimage offered me the opportunity to explore my own spirituality and redefine my relationship with the divine.

As the Wari drew to a close, an overwhelming sense of gratitude enveloped me. Gratitude for the privilege of witnessing this transformative journey, for the people who shared their stories, and for the profound impact it had on my own life. I realized that documenting Pandharpur Wari was not just about capturing moments through the lens but about preserving a sacred legacy for generations to come.

Documenting the Pandharpur Wari was an experience that shattered the boundaries of my own perceptions and allowed me to witness the boundless power of devotion and human connection. It revealed the intricate threads that weave us together as a society, reminding me of our shared humanity. Through my photographs, I hope to convey the vibrancy, beauty, and profound spirituality of this pilgrimage. Pandharpur Wari will forever hold a cherished place in my heart—a testament to the transformative power of faith, culture, and the indomitable spirit of the human soul.

The pilgrimage not only invited me to witness the transformative power of faith in others but also encouraged me to embark on my own path of self-realization. As I reflect on the transformative experience of documenting Pandharpur Wari, the serendipitous alignment of my birthday on the 21st with the 21-day duration of the pilgrimage becomes a remarkable coincidence that deepens the significance of this journey. I sought to encapsulate the magnificence of this cultural tapestry, preserving the essence of these traditions within my 21 captured images.

Prachi Nisha Shetty

Pandharpur Wari

Luck, money and work

On June 3, I went with two friends to the city of Florida, about 100 km from Montevideo, to see and photograph the celebration of “San Cono”, which takes place every June 3, on each anniversary of its arrival to the city.
It was predicted that it would rain but except for some slight drizzle and heavy and threatening clouds, the weather accompanied the walk.

“Cono of Teggiano” was an Italian religious born in the city of Teggiano in the 12th century AD. in the Salerno region (Italy). Considered a saint by the local inhabitants, they transferred their cult from Teggiano to America, especially to the Uruguayan city of Florida 138 years ago and people came to pray for luck, money and work.

That day in the lottery game, the numbers corresponding to June (6) and 3, are limited since there are thousands of people who bet on those “lucky” numbers.

Beyond the traditional procession, which always takes place at 2 pm, there are many other celebrations that constitute a great popular festival and tourist attraction, so we assumed that it would be a good idea to visit and take photos.

Throughout the week there are musical shows, a paragliding show, a circus, rural tourism proposals, activities at the hippodrome and many others, apart from the religious celebration itself.

The image of the saint is not administered by the religious authority but by a community of descendants of immigrants who publicize the festivity.

Since we arrived in the city, the great movement of buses from all parts of the country that brought the pilgrims was appreciated. There were closed streets, full restaurants and thousands of people everywhere. A true festival of colour, aromas, music and the bustle of street vendors.

Since the early morning, around the Chapel of San Cono, a huge fair has been set up with stalls selling candles, stamps, key rings, pins and images of the saint everywhere, but in addition to these religious objects there are stands with stalls selling food, clothes, toys, stones, jewellery and thousands of other things.

Some people arrive the day before and make a real camp near the chapel with the objects they sell.

Outside the procession circuit, the locals also offer all kinds of things at their doorsteps, from pizza, hot water, empanadas, caramelized peanuts, churros, hot dogs, puffed corn, barbecue, and even clothing or handicrafts. The city seemed to have been transformed into a large outdoor mall.

Usually the chapel is visited by thousands of people, but on the day of San Cono an immensity of men and women, children and entire families arrive.

Everyone tries to get close to the image of San Cono, touching his clothes, caressing him, leaving him offerings, giving him money and hanging rosaries, bracelets, watches, rings and all kinds of offerings.

At the back of the chapel there is a room for offerings. There are various bicycles, bridal gowns, diverse clothing, sports shirts, showcases full of valuable rings, necklaces, bracelets, watches and other diverse jewellery, dolls and the widest variety of imaginable offerings.

That room is guarded by the police and you can't take pictures. When I consulted the reason for this ban, they told me that it was because that room had been robbed on a few occasions and they did not want its content to be disclosed.

With difficulty we found a restaurant where we could have lunch since they were all full. What predominated in the gastronomic offer was the traditional roast, chorizos, but also schnitzel, fries with the inevitable fried egg on top...

At 2:00 p.m. the procession began punctually, some people walked barefoot carrying the sculpture of the saint on their shoulders through the streets of the city and accompanied by thousands of faithful despite the threatening rain that day. Prayers and thanks to San Cono were constantly passed through the loudspeakers distributed along the route.

We walked with the pilgrims, I was able to do some "close-ups", and then we walked around and photographed places in the environment, as well as interesting characters that we met along the way, most of whom were completely oblivious to the celebration, and many others who also offered something at the door of their modest houses on the outskirts, which allowed us to complete the stories that occur during the festivity and that I want to share with you.

Eduardo Storch

The houses near the tracks By Miki Shauder

I agreed to publish this photo shoot in its entirety, with so many images because I think Miki wanted to show a reality, so difficult for many of us to understand, used to comfort and so many useless luxuries. On the one hand his reportage shows us images of absolute poverty and on the other it offers us such joyful expressions.

This is the true spirit of a street photographer, who doesn't look for images for the sake of the image, but wants to show us reality and make us think, both about good things and bad things. Thinking is what we should all be doing when we look at an image, rather than have the photo safari spirit. As one of our photographers says, in some countries it is easy to find images ... this time without any filter.

peace and love

In Calcutta, I searched the neighbourhood where people live on the railroad. This is one of the poorest and most overpopulated neighbourhoods of this city, where many hundred thousand of homeless people live on the streets. Getting to know this neighbourhood which is called Anand Nagar, the City of Joy, got me thinking. I come from a different culture but I could clearly see the happiness in the eyes of the railway people in spite of their poverty. It would be nice to see this joy in the eyes of all humans. I believe that a street photographer must face these realities with a different eye, and ask himself many questions. I've tried.

There is a very famous book that talks about the city of joy, it's a novel, but it tells of true stories.

City of Joy by Dominique Lapierre

The train passes every few minutes in the morning, during which the railroad people lead their lives, brush their teeth, wash their faces, prepare breakfast and wash the dishes.

The houses are a bedroom only, a bamboo ladder and ropes used to climb to the second floor where the small children usually sleep. And inside the small shrines, there is a small temple for prayer.

The trains pass a tiny touching distance from the house and the living area. In crowded areas, there is a small separation fence, and in other areas, the house is right on the tracks without any separation.

At the same time, on the train, people stand at the doors and in the aisles, whether on their way to school or work and look at their homes and the people on the track.

The bags are hung outside the train on the windows to save space.

In India the problem of violence against women on convoys had reached such dimensions that in 2009, in addition to the dedicated carriages already present by law for two years, the then-new minister Mamata Banerjee had set up the Ledies Special, trains entirely prohibited to the men, who connected the suburbs to the city centers of New Delhi, Calcutta, Mumbai and Chennai.

Miki Schauder

Fascinating days in Kolkata by Patricia Kerkhofs

When diversity meets in harmony, we experience the blessings of civilisations instead of their clash.

My photography intends to show these moments of harmony while being briefly part of a world outside my usual cultural environment.

The look and the attitude of a child reflect perfectly the unbiased curiosity for the things to come, for a step outside their comfort zone.

I approached them sensitively and thoughtfully. I was instinctively verifying if they really wanted to be photographed or not.

A child lives the moment without prejudice but with the necessary level of precaution for the evil traps of an urban jungle. Although they are fragile little human beings, I am fascinated by the light in their eyes, the light of joy and hope. Irrespective of the chaos surrounding them, the noise and the erratic behaviour of the world of adults, I cherish this moment, this fascinating cocoon of honesty.

I have tried to capture a little moment of friendship, of inquisitive looks, of sympathy between two human beings of different age and of very different backgrounds.

However, my intention is not to ignore the challenging daily circumstances these children are facing, certainly those belonging to inferior caste such as the dalits. They carry serious responsibilities within their families and share in the heavy duties and sufferings of every days live.

Consequently some photographs will expose less gloomy faces but mature expressions of worries and sorrow. But my intention is still the same, capturing a moment with deepest respect for the cultural particularity of the society these children are living in. My street photography during these few days was one of true love and admiration for the incredible and wonderful city of Kolkata and the children conveying hope for a better future.

It was a life changing and enriching experience that I shall never forget.

Kolkata, the city of joy, you will always be in my heart as well as the lovely children.

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