In 2011, I had the opportunity to travel to Washington D.C. for a week with fellow aspiring journalists from around the country. Throughout the week we visited many museums and exhibits and heard lectures from professionals within our chosen field of journalism. One of my favorite trips was to the Newseum, a museum dedicated entirely to journalism and news. I saw a piece of the Berlin Wall and the front pages of newspapers from around the world. One exhibit that was particularly moving for me was the gallery of Pulitzer Prize winning photos.
I saw many great things in the Pulitzer Photo Gallery, but one photo has stuck strongly in my mind since the moment I first saw it. Stephanie Welsh's 1996 photo about
female circumcision in Kenya is a brutally powerful photo. While the photo itself is neither graphic nor violent, it tells a story of trauma that to this day makes me uncomfortable when I look at it. The image is simply a Kenyan woman's hand holding a small razor immediately after the act of circumcision was performed. I think this photo is so intense because of its basic imagery. As a viewer, I don't need to see the full action to understand what just took place moments before this photo was taken. That immediacy paired with the image of the woman's clear, focused hand in front of a blurred background gives it power. I think I have such a strong reaction to this photo because as a woman, I can sympathize both emotionally and intimately with what it embodies. While the practice of female circumcision is foreign to me and my culture, I'm able to comprehend what these young women endure.
The combination of emotion and extreme intimacy in this photo make is such a strong image.
Another photo that caught my interest is Edward Adam's
1969 Saigon Execution Pulitzer Prize winner. This photo was taken when Adams, for the Associated Press, and an NBC News crew came upon a couple of South Vietnamese soldiers and their prisoner. Unlike Welsh's photo, Adam's leaves nothing to the imagination, capturing the death of a man the moment it happens. This image is harsh. In the moment of death, you see the expression of a man as a bullet is about to enter his head. Across from him is a South Vietnamese soldier whose expression shows a feeling of justice being acted out. Perhaps the most jarring aspect is the expression of the the man holding the pistol. His facial expression appears at ease and un-phased about the act he is just about to perform. Even though many people would be drawn first to the man about to die, I can't take my eyes off of the face of the shooter. Here we see a graphic appeal, emotional and intimate photo category representation. Various elements work together.
John Paul Filo's 1971 Pulitzer Prize winning photo of the
Kent State Massacre is one that lives in American infamy. The raw emotion is what really draws me in. Obviously my eye first goes to the woman kneeling over her deceased friend laying in the street. Her face is so vivid, so full of hurt that it's hard to take my eyes off of her. Inspecting the photo a bit more closely, the passers-by strike me as very odd, but in a way that adds to the young woman's pain. A student has just died in the middle of a crowded street, yet people are not surrounding the victim or comforting the woman. Instead they are still milling about, glancing over as they continue on their way. Even the man whose arm is being grasped by the wailing woman seems aloof. The question this photo brings to mind is why aren't more people in distress? If I was in a populated area where people were just killed, I'd expect mayhem. The lack of commotion says a lot for the historical significance of the events. Elbert's categories of emotion and graphical appeal are at work here.
Overall, I find that many of the photos that impact me the strongest are black and white. I feel that emotion is better represented in black and white because the lack of color allows me to focus more intently without that added distraction. Greg Marinovich's 1991 Pulitzer Prize winning photo from
South Africa however, is my exception. The photo is of two man from warring parties, the African National Congress and the Inkatha Freedom Party. One of the most graphic images I've seen, it shows the end of a brutal assault where one South African man burns another South African man of a different party. The photo subjects have plain surroundings, just rocks and dirt and tall grass. The man with the torch isn't wearing a shirt or shoes, just a pair of blue jeans. The man being burned wears a long sleeve shirt and khakis. Their clothing relays that these are not high government officials or political leaders, just men with strong opinions. Off to the bottom right of the image is a young boy, fleeing the violence. This is the type of photo that even if the man holding the torch and the young boy fleeing were cropped out, it would still hit the viewer hard. The bright color of the flames on the beaten man, squatting and helpless, drive the photo. This is an example of Elbert's category of graphical appeal.
To be perfectly honest, one of the main reasons this photo stuck out to me was because it's one of the first I've viewed that isn't of extreme suffering or tragedy. Nathaniel Fein's 1949 Pulitzer Prize winning photo of
Babe Ruth at Yankee Stadium to retire his No. 3 jersey is somber and elegant. The image of Babe Ruth, old and ailing, standing before his adoring fans brings a feeling of sadness that comes at the end of something great. Babe is slightly hunched and perhaps using the baseball bat for support, but still manages to stand with pride. Fein's angle at which he took the photo is very effective. At a lower level than Babe, the photo captures a solitary and group moment all at once. On one hand, the crowd of Yankee Stadium is honoring Babe for his accomplishments and on the other, Babe is returning to a place that meant so much to him and helped make his career. It's the subtleties that make this photo stand out. I'd say Elbert's categories of information and emotion are seen here.
