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+44 (0)7736316819What if humans were consistently exposed to other cultures through media themed on our shared humanity instead of conflicts & hatred? Could more balanced perspectives make the world a better place?
These are images from Darkness Visible, a body of work Seamus Murphy has created from visits to Afghanistan, the first being in 1994. The photographs are beautiful, and despite the noise of some of the scenes, as a viewer, I only experience silence. I imagine Murphy quietly observing surroundings, and then taking photos, sometimes without uttering a word, sometimes without the subjects even realising his presence or his actions. Like the beggar woman on the stairs. Completely unaware.
I dropped Seamus an email and he swiftly replied with some information on his work out here in Afghanistan. There are a number of interesting audio visual insights which I highly recommend having a listen to. Check one out here.
When asked about using black and white in this work Murphy replied “It seemed to suit the mood and emotion of the times I was experiencing; it certainly matched my feelings … it felt right to record what I was seeing in black and white. These were epic times and despite the apparent lightness of the people, it was also a dark time of great extremes.”
So I’m inspired. Inspired to get my old canon ae1 shipped out here with some roles of black and white. Inspired to experiment with the way I photograph out here. Inspired to explore more.
This book is definitely going on my Christmas wish list.
I went to the bookshop owned by ‘The Bookseller of Kabul’ today.
The book received much critical acclaim for it’s depiction of the bookseller Shah Muhammad Rais (whose name was changed to Sultan Khan) and his family in Afghanistan. The journalist and author of the book lived with Rais and his family which (quote) ”provided her with a unique opportunity to describe life as ordinary Afghan citizens saw it”.
There is much controversy surrounding this book, not only for the offence that it caused, but also for the shear narrow mindedness of a western journalist who claimed to portray the complexities of Afghan culture through her words and limited experience of life here.
Having spent only a short time in Afghanistan I have come to realise that as a westerner, I will never be able to see or experience life, let alone describe it as an ordinary Afghan citizen would. Our lives and experiences are so far removed that I would never try to claim that I see what they see, I experience what they experience, or that I understand their lives. I am so aware as a photographer working in this region of the world, of the privilege it is to be here, and to learn from these people who graciously give me permission to photographically record my experience of being here. The images I have taken here do show some aspects of Afghan life, but I will never assume that I will ever be able to see or document the whole picture. I will always be on the outside looking in. My dream is that one day there would be global exhibitions of photographs made by Afghans of their culture and homeland. Only they have the true insight to their world.
In response, Rais wrote a book called ‘Once upon a time there was a bookseller in Kabul’. I bought it in the shop today, and he offered to sign it for me. Nice man.
The shop is full of many wonderful books, piled high to the ceiling, the kind of place you can spend hours browsing and still miss so much. I came across a beautiful book by photographer Seamus Murphy, who, the bookseller informed me had been into the shop two weeks previously. Watch out for my next post for more details on his work.

Not my words. But I agree.
“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
” Margery Williams. The Velveteen Rabbit (1922).This week I have been working at The Guardian, I’ve been going out with photographers and some of it has ended up on the website and maybe the newspaper tomorrow. ACE!
Super proud of my dear friend Andrew.
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