I am just done with a DVD I picked up this afternoon.
Its called Born Into Brothels. And before you guys think its something seedy, this Academy Award-winning documentary tracks the lives of 8 children whose mothers are all prostitutes at a Red Light District in Calcutta. It tells the story of how New York-based photographer Zana Briski, who first arrives in India to get a snapshot of the lives of its sex-workers, ends up running a Photography class for the children who live right smack in the middle of such debauchery and despair.
The kids are given a film-loaded Point and Shoot each. And told to tell their story through the lens. With amazing results. From weekly photo shoots and sit-down sessions, fine-tuning what they see, how they compose, asking questions on why some shots work and why some do not and guiding them into looking at their own pictures critically, Zana uses the art of photography to rehabilitate and restore. And slowly, the children nurture a sense of self-belief and worth.
Zana has travelled the world, taking the best of what the children have shot, and turning the pictures into a traveling exhibition of sorts. The photographs have also been compiled into a book. Naturally, all profits go back to the children, for their education. Something their mothers can never hope to do or earn in a lifetime.
As I look at many of the photographs the kids have shot on their cheap cameras, I cannot help but feel both admiration and shame. I admire the children because, in spite of such immense deprivation, they have managed to communicate the very essence of their sad existence through their pictures. And I am ashamed because, in spite of me having access to an expensive DSLR, my images don't even come close to connecting on such an emotional level.
I'll let their pictures speak for themselves.
Labels: Movies, Photography