Dealing With Tragedy Through Photography

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kzphoto

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My mother, having recently had a mastectomy, is currently recovering. I snapped a few photos of her while she was in the hospital, but I'm not sure how I feel about the act of photography while in such a somber setting. Looking at the photographs now, I am relieved I can remember how I approached the situation and how I stayed objective, yet positive.

For others, is this true? Do you use your photography to help you through any traumas? How many of us use a camera to process emotions or tragedy?
 
I had the privilege to photograph my grandsons treatment for a cancerous brain tumor...it was discovered when he was 3 yrs old...I covered the time in hospital for the surgery,then his Proton treatment at MD Anderson and chemo at Texas Children's both in Houston...I spent many weeks with him and totally documented his life....he is now 5 yrs old and doing quite well..He finished up in July of 2009 and just had a checkup back in Houston.... I did this was with the blessings of both his mother and father....they both had to work most of the time during his treatment so I was the one who spent the time with him and traveling back and forth between New Mexico and Texas...the experience is unlike anything you will ever do...so go for it...I also did a Gallery exhibit of the photos....from over 1500 exposures to 24...you may or may not go that route....the photos were not for sale but the gallery owner had me hold it over for a total of two months....people got to see something they only hear about and my wish is they never have to experience.......regards,Bill
 
Although not having suffered The Great Losses in life yet (parents, siblings and children all with me, as are inlaws, grandparents died too long ago to remember), I feel photography as a way to detach myself from tragedy. As if seeing the event through a viewfinder dampens the impact on me, as if it is less real.

I find that mechanism fascinating, it helps me in being a bystander to my own life. I am sure I will come to terms with my future losses by photographing.
 
buzzardkid said:
..., I feel photography as a way to detach myself from tragedy. As if seeing the event through a viewfinder dampens the impact on me, as if it is less real.
....
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I too have experienced what you describe whilst I was photographing my mother. I'm hoping that the internalizing / distancing won't effect me adversely later in life.
 
Photograph the bad times as well as the good times. Photography means being a witness. The event occurred the image proves it. Read Roland Barthes: Camera Lucida. He truly elucidates the meaning of photography and how it impacts our lives and the difference between it and the other visual artist. In essence, "I was there. I witnessed the event. It occurred." For me that is photography...not pretty images of trees and flowers. I want to know what happened in your life. The people you met and touched. Again, for flowers and landscapaes I can see them every day driving to and from work.
 
Good question. I had a test a few months ago and in hindsight and failed it pretty badly. Guess I'm not going to be a PJ.

We did debate taking pictures of the patients that we handled in haiti and decided not. In hindsight, I wish I had.

Most of the evening trips were little kids in casts or missing limbs that we moved out of the field hospital to an orphanage (their new home) to free up the hospital beds. In the hospital, if you pulled up a camera it seemed like half the suffering faces packed inside a tent the size of gymnasium would turn to you and we didn't feel comfortable doing it. We were busy and figured that we had a job and the PJs had theirs and they would capture it and we'd look at their stuff later. Stick to your work.

But, it seemed that the big time guys would fly in and be gone the same day and miss the depth of it. Most didn't really capture it. I've really had to search, but this link from Tampa Bay is a good at describing the scene in PaP: Quake shots (Man, you have consider what these photogs were doing to get some of these shots. The victims are reading "Nikkor" off the lens.)

Another reason not to shoot was that a lot of folks seemed to show up just to check out the scene. They weren't much help, stayed a few days and always had a camera. The victims recognized their ineffectiveness pretty well and were put off receiving help from someone taking their picture at the same time. They were labelled "DTs" - disaster tourists, and we didn't want to be known by that label.

But in hindsight, I wish I had balled-up and captured some of the horror.
 
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I photographed my wife in her late stage of cancer and she did not mind. I have no idea why I did it but I had to. No one need see the images. I did anything to cope with what was happening in front of me and I coped.
 
A setback (even cancer) is not always a tragedy.

I photographed my dying mother more than a third of a century ago.

I photographed Frances sans hair (from chemo - breast cancer) 10 years ago.

I still have Frances.

I sincerely hope you still have your mother in a decade's time.

It's quite likely that you will. The odds against breast cancer are quite good - unless it's someone you love. Then, even a remote chance looks VERY frightening, and an 80% chance of survival (the figure we were given) can look like certain death. Happily, it isn't.

Cheers,

R.
 
Araki-san's book ‘Winter Journey’ is a "photo diary of Yoko’s (his wife) final months before passing away in January 1990." Could be a good book for anyone who is dealing with this type of photography.
 
Photography is very much part of my life and is helping me heal from wounds of being in Foster Care for over a decade. I was removed from my birth parents at an early age; I was luckily placed in a kind home, but both of my foster parents suddenly/tragically died; and then I was placed in an abusive foster home for three years which was like being in prison because it was dangerious and constant punishment. When I was thirteen years old I was sent home to live with my father, an illiterate Chinese imigrant, who had become a stranger slowly over the decade I was away; and then I learned all about a differant kind of punishment that is non stop called poverty.

I do a lot of urban landscape of abandoned areas of NYC. In fact I seem to be not only drawn to them, but I accually live and establish homes in them. I believe I am drawn to explore that lonelyness, emptyness and sense of mystery because of my disrupted childhood.

I also do a lot of street photograpy to embrace the living, and this is the main reason why I live in NYC.

A common behavior among foster children is hoarding that is due to deep depravity. Being an extreame gear whore helps remind me that I am no longer poor or helpless.

Thanks for the sense of community, a safe place, and most of all your understanding. Perhaps a lot of my flambouant behavior that surrounds my postings and photographic endevors is better understood as an adult because as a child I often felt invisible. Photography is also a way to deal with much of my lost history/childhood.

Cal
 
My Brother-in-Law is coming around to our's this weekend for a family BBQ, he's just got out of hospital after removal of a brain tumour and things don't sound too good for the poor guy really - he's only in his early 50's poor fella and has been getting very upset about his future. He's just about to start months of chemo etc and I was in two minds about taking photos of him, I refrained from taking them when he was in hospital but regret that already really.

I just don't want to upset his wife & kids really, I know my wife won't mind at all and would love to have such photos of her brother especially if as feared the worst eventually happens. In some ways, as mentioned, maybe it's more a therapy for us by taking such shots even if we might never view them again because we find them too close or upsetting. There can be nothing negative about that, we all have to cope with such events in our own way.
 
Calzone said:
Photography is very much part of my life and is helping me heal from wounds of being in Foster Care for over a decade. I was removed from my birth parents at an early age; I was luckily placed in a kind home, but both of my foster parents suddenly/tragically died; and then I was placed in an abusive foster home for three years which was like being in prison because it was dangerious and constant punishment. When I was thirteen years old I was sent home to live with my father, an illiterate Chinese imigrant, who had become a stranger slowly over the decade I was away; and then I learned all about a differant kind of punishment that is non stop called poverty.

I do a lot of urban landscape of abandoned areas of NYC. In fact I seem to be not only drawn to them, but I accually live and establish homes in them. I believe I am drawn to explore that lonelyness, emptyness and sense of mystery because of my disrupted childhood.

I also do a lot of street photograpy to embrace the living, and this is the main reason why I live in NYC.

A common behavior among foster children is hoarding that is due to deep depravity. Being an extreame gear whore helps remind me that I am no longer poor or helpless.

Thanks for the sense of community, a safe place, and most of all your understanding. Perhaps a lot of my flambouant behavior that surrounds my postings and photographic endevors is better understood as an adult because as a child I often felt invisible. Photography is also a way to deal with much of my lost history/childhood.

Cal
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One of the best (most insightful/self aware) posts i've read on ANY forum! Thanks for sharing!
 
My father had a heavy car accident few years ago. As I am working far from home I was not able to visit him too often (it was my mother and my sister who were spending days and nights with him in hospital). But the time I did, I did not even come to think of photographing him - it was just too hard. Now things got better and my father is home again and while bound to wheel-chair he can laugh again. I will never forget those times, even without photos.

Still - I can understand that there may me times when one can do this kind of photography, but it is a very sensitive subject and every case is probably different.
 
I think it's a simple question of ethics really. And the basis of your intent.
If you can cut through the emotions on either side (which are never simple), then --
If the subject is accepting of your intent then it's a matter of respect.
If they're not then it's an abuse.

I couldn't cut through the emotions when my mother died of cancer many years ago; and I can't now either when a good friend has had a severe stroke and is dependent on daily carers and is wheelchair bound for the rest of his life. To me it feels voyeuristic even though the intent is pure, and so it's not right for me to do it.
 
I really appreciate all the feedback this forum has generated regarding my question. I've shown my mother the photos I took of her and she is glad that I have them. I can't ask for more than that.

~k.
 
I recently lost my father-in-law who was, for all intents and purposes, the father I had after the loss of my own Dad. He lived in another State and when he was stricken, my wife went off to stay with him for weeks in hospital and then hospice. Unable to get away, I talked to him by phone, though he was not responsive. I told him what I felt about him and shared those moments that made me most happy in his company.

At home I viewed old photos I had of him, and scanned old hard copy photos of him is service during WWII, and just getting started in life. I repaired tears, cleaned up the shots and sent them out to his family. I truly helped me get through my isolation and made me feel better, even as I shed tears doing it. It helped me as I looked through the long life he had of 92 years, and saw his joyful moments and somber. He just filled a large space in my life when I was younger and through those images, I was with him in my thoughts even though I was far away from him physically.

Tony is now at peace and, to a certain sense, so am I.
 
I lost my father to cancer a year ago, I went to see him a month before he died. I took a photo of him shaving, foam allover his face and smoking at the same time. He died like a bird, never thinking of death, never changing his ways.

I never showed that photo to anybody but my mother. I dont know how I feel about it.
 
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