Photojournalists must do more to win the public's trust, writes Robert Keeley.
The latest World Press Photo awards were remarkable for a couple of reasons, one being the quality (and quantity) of images submitted. But as we went to press it had become remarkable for another reason entirely, and was mired in controversy. An incredible total of 97,912 images were entered by 5,692 press photographers, photojournalists, and documentary photographers from 131 countries. The jury offered prizes in eight categories to 42 photographers of 17 nationalities (including Australia). But the organisers were forced to disqualify the winner in the Contemporary Issues category, Giovanni Troilo, after concluding his story did not meet the entry requirements.
Troilo’s story, titled 'La Ville Noir - The Dark Heart of Europe,' was ostensibly about the Belgian city of Charleroi. The organisers discovered the photo of a painter creating a work with live models had instead been shot in Molenbeek, Brussels and thus awarded first overall in this section to the second place getter. They also announced they had been forced to reject around 20 percent of submissions during the penultimate round of assessments because they discovered these images had undergone excessive digital manipulation.
Of course post-production of images has become a byword of the digital imaging revolution. But when photojournalism is discussed, less is often more. Photojournalists have built their reputations on the bedrock of photographic integrity. Where landscape shooters and imaging artists have embraced the creative options of digital manipulation, it’s been incumbent upon photojournalists to record as closely as possible what is actually happening before them. However, in recent years the boundaries of the craft have started leaking, and there’s now a hot debate about where those new boundaries actually are.
When the judges of World Press Photo examined the metadata of this huge number of over-manipulated shots, they opened the door to more than a disproportionate enthusiasm for computer tricks. The special responsibility which photojournalists have in exposing the world to the rest of us was breached, and whether it was because of an unfettered fervour for simply seeing what they could do, or a creeping lethargy towards the real significance of this school of photography, the impact may well lead to a diminished respect for this group of shooters. The misjudgments of (a relatively large) minority unfortunately reflect upon the majority. And while the organisers were at pains to point out that they didn’t believe most of these rejected submissions had been altered to cheat, the end result effectively remains much the same.
Photojournalists are amongst the most respected practitioners of our craft, and if they succumb to the easy virtues of cloning, colour enhancement, and erasing tools, (or even finding more convenient shooting locations) we may find ourselves sliding into a world where what we wish was there is more important than what’s really there. That would be a sad day for this important genre, and a loss for everybody else. It brings to mind the old definition of fanatics – those who, having lost sight of their goals, then redouble
their efforts.
An image from Giovanni Troilo's series, 'La Ville Noir - The Dark Heart of Europe' which was disqualified from World Press Photo 2015.
Story fiirst published in Australian Photography + digital magazine, April 2015.