Bernat Armangue. Gaza City. Nov. 18, 2012. Covering a conflict has never been a pleasure, but since I became a father a year ago, war has become even harder to cover. This day was particularly complicated; 11 members of the Daloo family had been killed when an Israeli missile struck the family’s two-story home in Gaza City, and I spent most of the day taking pictures of bodies being pulled out from beneath the rubble. I took this picture at the end of the day. The morgue was crowded and very noisy. Behind me, a few journalists were filming and taking pictures of four dead children of the Daloo family. In front of me, a group of men that had just stormed into the room were facing the cruel reality of discovering the dead body of a loved one. Everything was happening very fast, but I remember seeing a teardrop falling over the inert hand and whispering “ma’a salama” (goodbye in Arabic). I’ve always thought that war brings out the best and the worst in humans. To me, this was a sad and tender moment of love.Rodrigo Abd. Idlib, Syria. March 8, 2012. Ahmed’s tears, which mourn his dead father who was killed by Syrian army snipers, fell on a park transformed into a cemetery in the city of Idlib, which had been under siege by government forces since March. The child’s cry mingled with the cries of the Free Syrian Army fighters, the elderly, his schoolmates and a community devastated by almost two years of this conflict, which started in the framework of the Arab Spring and transformed into a cruel civil war. This is quite a direct picture—one that tries to approach this armed conflict in a very human and simple level, amid a conflict fraught with very profound geopolitical interests in today’s world.
Martin Schoeller. Des Moines, Iowa. Spring 2012. I took this portrait of Gabby Douglas in Des Moines, Iowa, where she was living with a host family, in order to train under local coach Liang Chow. Though only 16, she left her family in Virginia to pursue her dream: competing in the London Olympic games this summer. Despite the growing pressure and all-consuming training, she was incredibly relaxed and easy-going. I like the image because it tries to detail the mysterious ways athletes of this caliber carry their round-the-clock determination and discipline into their most daily routines.Parrish Ruiz de Velasco. Lancaster, Texas. April 3, 2012. It was like any other spring day in North Texas — hot, humid and the weather was ripe for a classic Midwest storm. Within hours, 13 confirmed tornadoes touched down across the Dallas-Fort Worth area. My adventure began approximately 15 miles south from where the photo was ultimately taken. I turned my flashers on and pulled over to shoot pictures of the ominous clouds that were painted in front of me. Within seconds the sky spit out an incredible twister. I didn’t have a clear view and seeing half a tornado wasn’t good enough. I followed emergency vehicles, took back roads and, before I knew it, I was in the tornado’s direct path with a perfect view from the ground up. By day’s end, I took more than 250 photos. My entire adventure and additional images can be seen here.
Dominic Nahr. Heglig, Sudan. April 17, 2012. It was April, and I was speeding north towards a small border war between Sudan and South Sudan that most of the world didn’t even realize was happening. Bodies, dozens and dozens, lined the gravel highway. Less than a handful of journalists had found their way here, let alone photographers. Whereas other wars I’ve covered blanketed front pages, this was different. Each snap was significant; once again, Sudanese were dying. Once again, few knew. I had to document it. I’d hitched a ride with South Sudanese soldiers, who had just captured the Heglig oil town from the Sudanese army. On the way to the front lines, while careening enemy corpses left rotting as a post-mortem insult, I glimpsed a damaged oil facility. But the soldiers had little patience for me; there was no stopping. Later that afternoon, waiting for an imminent counter-attack, the commander ordered us back south. This time, I convinced the driver to stop; they, too, wanted to see this curious mechanical casualty of war. I jumped down, walking cautiously towards the burst pipe. Only then did I see the body, draped in sticky black. The clouds skimmed over the harsh white Sudanese sun, and I took the photo. There was the conflict, in front of me.Callie Shell. Windham, N.H. Aug. 18, 2012. Sometimes it’s hard to remember who that person is at the podium—that [politicians] are real people. We had been to a couple campaign events that day. Here, President Obama was waiting to be introduced before going on stage at a campaign stop in Windham, N.H. As President, you spend a lot of time waiting for people to introduce you, so that’s always the best time for photographers to be around him. He was talking to staff and Secret Service and seemed really at ease. I don’t remember what he was laughing about—when I’m photographing, I don’t really listen, I watch for a moment.Francois Mori. Paris, France. March 20, 2012. I was told that in China, artists don’t often comment on their work in order to let the spectator make their own interpretation. For this assignment with the Associated Press, my goal was to show that Li Wei was flying through the air over Paris. But with no crane available for me to shoot from and no buildings nearby, I decided to make a simple photo from the ground with the sky in background. It is Li Wei’s concept of gravity-defying situations that I captured. So I could say, “if we look at it the simple way, sometimes we don’t take photos, we receive them.”
