Going through Susan Meiselas’s work at the International Center of Photography (ICP) was truly breathtaking. Never before have I been exposed to such “in your face” photography. I was taken back with one of her works, her Carnival Strippers project, but Meiselas’s other piece about the political revolutions down in Central America did more than tell a story, her photos put the viewer in the story.

Susan Meiselas is a very well educated woman, having earned her masters degree in visual education at Harvard University. Her first major work which essentially introduced her to the world, was her Carnival Strippers project mentioned before. In this project, she focused on the lives of strippers at fairs across the New England area. Her work offered a new vantage point of strippers, making it out to be something revolutionary. Meiselas was both straight forward and not withholding with her photography style – she is up close and personal. This style of hers carried over to her future works as well. In her documentary of Kurdistan, Meiselas took pictures of burning cars, deeply dug graves riddled with bodies, and a slew of other revealing photographs. Meiselas covered the Nicaraguan insurrection as well. Not only did she do photo-journalism, she helped direct two films that were integral to her journalistic agenda, “Living at Risk: The Story of a Nicaraguan Family” and “Pictures from a Revolution.”

Susan Meiselas is known throughout the world, having had exhibitions in countries as far as Japan and France. She is also the recipient of many honoraries, such as the Engelman Award from the Institute of Contemporary Art. Meiselas helped shed light on various global issues, and as a freelance photographer for the prestigious Magnum, she continues to do so.

Capa’s startling black and white photographs brought out the sympathy that usually resides deep in my being, back by the spine, slick with cynic oil.  I saw the solemn eyes peering between barbed wire and somehow felt chills of recognition down my spine.  Though his pictures were very specifically of Nicaraguan political prisoners, I had seen the look in other people’s eyes.  I had seen it in pictures a friend took while in Peru.  I’d seen it in friends’ eyes and strangers’ eyes and somewhere in my own head.  He found some sort of universal desperate vibe flowing from those inmates’ eyes and froze it for all eternity.   His whole body of work slipped neatly into order as you walked past them in the gallery, each separate photograph telling a story and the whole set portraying an entire people.
It was refreshing to see such a simple photo project done so well.  The prints all had wonderful contrast and let the image be rather then try and exaggerate it in any way.  The images also made you think of what was going on while he took his photos.  Did he ever ask his subjects to move, or to look at the camera?  Were they all candid?  It also just made you curious of the circumstances surrounding the photographs.  What’s going on behind that look in those peoples’ eyes?  His Nicaraguan series made you feel as though you were really seeing the history, not standing apart from it observing, but in the middle, the action swirling around you.

 Susan Meiselas’s decision to pursue photography has taken her around the world. From Nicaragua, El Salvador, small towns and even South Bronx Mieselas had focused on capturing the horror of war ravaged and impoverished nations. In her series “Carnival Strippers” she focused on following the itinerary of carnival strippers. She took pictures not only of their performances but their own personal moments when they stopped being entertainers on stage and started being human.

Meiselas’s ability to capture this gritty realism and humanity in her subjects had earned her accolades. She is the winner of 2000 Cornell Capa Infinity Award for for distinguished achievement in photography. Her work has solo exhibits at the International Center for Photography and even shown in the Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris. Susan Meiselas’s career as a photographer is distinctly successful and eventful.

Many of Meiselas’s prints caught my eye but there were two black and white shots that stood on their own and engaged my attention

In Prep at Mass Shelter 1979, Susan Meiselas captures a not so festive holiday scene from Volunteers of America. Two elderly people in the background are framed in the window frames. An old man sits listlessly on a chair and watches as lady in a tweed suit adjusts a white Santa Claus wig on a patiently resigned young man. In the background a tinsel decked tree adds to the supposedly festive spirit of the photo and occupies two thirds of the picture. Meiselas successfully captures a Santa Claus in the making and addresses the fabrication of many beloved holiday traditions.

In Prince Street Girls she captures Pebbles, JoJo and Ro on Baxter Street in 1979 New York City. These young girls are all positioned in attitudes that reflect their nonchalance and naïveté. Ro is lighting a cigarette for JoJo. They are all sporting classic 1978 year jean jackets, bellbottoms and print collar shirts tightly starched. Their fly away hair gives them a rushed and inconsistent air. The black and white tones of the photo give them a mature and older look. The clothes they were wearing were probably bright and their faces as well but the black and white give them a more somber mood. Pebbles leans on the front grill of the Cadillac her chin jutted out and tilted ever so slightly to the left. To the passing stranger these girls would have been passed by Meiselas captures their rebel spirit and defiance.

Meiselas may have been known better for her coverage of political and war related subjects but her lens reveals the frankness of her human subjects and he strength lies in that honest portrayal of them.

            Many of the photos taken by Ms. Meiselas were ones that captured the individual people who were fighting in the conflict. One such photo was the one of a man playing a clarinet in the midst of a hellish warzone. This photo was rather out of place and captured a relatively obscure moment amidst all of the fighting. It seems as thought these photos are the ones that identify the people of a conflict. It shows that they too are human and that simple pleasures are necessary for everyone.

            There is another very disturbing photo of a body that has been cut in half, with only the lower half and spinal cord still intact. This photo shows the graphic reality of war and the fact that revolutions, however just, are not without brutality and gore. It is very distressing to analyze this photo and see the terrible price that war takes upon people. This photo seems meant to shock and revolt. It shows in disgusting clarity the violence that is part of the revolution

            The fianl photo is one of a celebration in the Plaza de la Revolucin. This photo shows the joy in the eyes of the members of the revolution. There are two men in the center of the picture who look as though they are about to embrace each other. They are surrounded by a throng of people being held back, with flags flying in the background. There is a sense of triumph about this picture, with a celebration ensuing. This photo seems to show the true point of the revolution. Happiness and success is the goal of this revolution and it is very interesting to see a photo that documents that.

            Susan Meiselas has compiled a very powerful collection of photos from Nicaragua. She did a great job of chronicling the revolution and the many people involved in it. She showed human emotion and the results of human violence in a very realistic fashion. I was very impressed by the fact that she would go into a hostile warzone and just take pictures. It takes a good deal of courage to do this and I am amazed that she was not killed herself. I have a great amount of respect for Ms. Meiselas as a courageous photographer and I feel that her compilation of photos has really shown the truth of the revolution in Nicaragua.

Cuesta del plomo, hillside outside Managua-a well known site of many assassinations carried out by the National Guard

Susan Meiselas is a photographer best known for her committed coverage of political conflicts in Central America during the 1970s and 80s.  She was very concerned with issues of nationalism and identity.  Three of her most famous projects are Carnival Strippers (1972-1976), Nicaragua (1978-2004), and Kurdistan (1991-present).  Currently, her works from these projects are exhibited in New York’s International Center of Photography, to which we took a class trip. 
The project that got most of my attention was Nicaragua. Susan Meiselas took pictures of the violence that went on in that nation. It was a nation in turmoil and she was one of the very few photographers who was brave enough to go there and take pictures of the brutality and the murders.  Two photographs in the exhibit really caught my eye, “Car of a Samoza informer burning in Managua, Nicaragua” (1978), and “Cuesta del plomo, hillside outside Managua-a well known site of many assassinations carried out by the National Guard.” These images contained something we don’t witness often: violence and murder. Although we hear about them quite often, we never actually witness how terrible violence gets. In one of these pictures there is a car on its side, burning, with clouds of smoke rising for everyone to see. A woman casually walks by.  The contrast between the fire orange and the clouds of smoke seems unreal, yet fascinating.  The second image stunned me; it was a picture of half a man, only his legs and the spinal cord sticking out in the middle of green mountains. A hand lies within a few feet of the legs.  It just seems like these mountains are so beautiful and peaceful, and in the middle of it all such a gruesome image.  There was a picture with children lying on the floor, dead, with blood all around them.  Other photographs showed bandits with guns and masks over their faces running through a street while all the neighbors are outside on their doorsteps, observing, and it seems so casual for them, so natural.
A thing that I found really interesting about her is that she goes back to her subjects. Meiselas finds the people she once photographed and returns the pictures to them. For Meiselas, it is somewhat of a quest. She believes that photographers have to form connections with their subjects, revisit and return the photos. The International Center of Photography made videos of Susan Meisalas’s trip back to Nicaragua and showed us the people in her photos. These people told Meiselas about their role at the time she took those photos, and talked about the past and the present.
I really enjoyed our class trip to the ICP, and especially enjoyed the photographs of Susan Meiselas. She is an incredible photographer, who is one the few brave enough to photograph during times in which nations are in turmoil. Now these pictures are not only art, they are a part of a nation’s history.

Susan Meiselas went places during times when I would have been constantly looking over my shoulder, not through my camera’s lens.  She saw terrible, radical things happen around her and instead of getting lost in the flurry, pulled back and took picture after picture, documenting rather then participating.  Though it’s not that simple.  There were a few photos that as I looked on, I tried to imagine the situation she was in, the immense emotions that she may have tried to keep at bay with her camera. 
There was one photo of two small boys, battered and almost dead that I stood in front of for many minutes.  I had seen photos of death before, seen pictures of horrible things from all over the world, and this picture was high on the list of horrible yet there was something I didn’t get about it.  Thinking of her standing over these two little boys, who would have been cute and playful in life, I was terrified.  She was terrified.  What do you do when presented a situation that horrifying and all you have to defend yourself is a camera?  Susan Meiselas fought battles armed with nothing other then a hunk of plastic and glass.  If ever I could have that bravery, that direction, I would take it and run.  I would chase her around the world, follow in her footsteps then find my way back home again when I ran out of film.

           The International Center of Photography, one of the world’s premier exhibitors of photographic art, currently contains works from renowned photographer Susan Meiselas. Best known for her coverage of political conflicts in Central America, Meseilas explored “issues of nationalism and identity.” Organized by Kristen Lubben, Susan Meiselas: In History includes three of her main projects: Carnival Strippers (1972-76); Nicaragua (1978-present); and Kurdistan (1991-present). Meiselas sets herself apart through her exceptional ability to encompass her photographs with “larger contexts and deeper histories.” Her desire to capture and reveal the truths of the world places her as a “leading voice in the debate on contemporary documentary practice.”

           Walking down the stairs, we are immediately struck by an array of vibrant and powerful colors in Meiselas’ images. Although each project has a beauty and meaning of its own, Nicaragua, is perhaps her most controversial, gruesome, and disturbing work.              Meiselas succeeds in illuminating the horrors during the Sandinista Revolution. During this time, the Somaza family, a dictatorship, ruled the country in unscrupulous ways. The corrupt dynasty was overthrown when the revolutionary group, “Sandinista National Liberation Front” (Frente Sandinista de Liberación Nacional -FSLN), was born. Meiselas’ photographs capture the distress and gritty realism during this period of aggression, social distress, and chaos.

           The image, “NICARAGUA. Managua. 1979. Children rescued from a house destroyed by 1,000-pound bomb dropped in Managua. They died shortly after,” will surely make viewers shudder. Sprawled across a soot covered and blood stained checkered floor, we are overwhelmed with the grotesque image of two young boys on the verge of death. The boy on the left looks as though he is taking his last breath, as an adult’s hand is placed over the stomach apparently checking for vital signs. The drips of blood on every inch of his body, and his lifeless hands further diminish any hopes of his survival. While the boy on the left is taking his last gasps of air, the boy on the lower right is fixated on him. His enlarged pupils and lack of expression indicate that he knows the fate of his friend. The smears, streaks, and pool of blood from under his arm make it hard to look at the image before growing uneasy and disgusted. The discoloration, bruises, cuts, gashes, and dirt enveloped on their youthful bodies causes a feeling of utter disdain for those responsible for dropping the 1,000 lb. bomb; a bomb that cheated and snatched the innocent lives and futures away from these two young boys. The title blatantly states that they boys die shortly afterwards, further erupting a rush of repugnance and antipathy for the ruthless killers of the Somoza dictatorship.

           In the image “Cuesta del Plomo,” we are confronted with a seemingly lush hillside, with a beautiful skyline and lake in the background. The beautiful setting presents a stark contrast to the painful and eerie mood evoked by the lower half of a human body on the grass. It almost looks like an abandoned pair of jeans on the ground, or even half of a mannequin. However, Cuesta del Plomo is actually a “well known site for many assassinations carried out by the National Guard,” where people “search daily for missing persons.” Here we see a human spine sticking out from the corpse, surrounded by pieces of bones. Perhaps the most disturbing question is how this murder occurred, how it is possible to have completely mauled the upper body with the exception of the spine, while leaving the legs and jeans intact. Again, Meiselas highlights the suffering caused by the war through her raw depiction of the grim environment and reality of the Sandinista Revolution.

           Through her travels to Central America, Susan Meiselas provides a moving and rare glimpse into the daily conflicts and violence Nicaraguans in the 1970s and 1980s experienced. Meiselas states, “the problem for the photographer remains: how to create images and a sequence that’s sustaining and engaging, but asks people to wait, to not think they know, but to be suspended and uncertain along with those pictured whose lives are unpredictable and unraveling.” However, this problem was nonexistent in her work; while the majority of these thought-provoking images illustrate brutal and unsettling events and subjects, she effortlessly grasps the focus and attention of her viewers. Meiselas craftily creates a dilemma in her project Nicaragua; viewers are repulsed while simultaneously unable to take their eyes off of her images.

We often idealize war. When we think of war photography, we try to look for smiles of the people, welcoming the victors in the war, or the war heroes, who risked their life for the people of their countries. Susan Meiselas’s war photographs tell a different aspect of war, the millions of casualties.

Born in Baltimore, Maryland, Susan meiselas began her career as a freelance photographer after joining the Magnum Photos in 1976.  In the same year, Meiselas published her first book, Carnival Strippers, documenting the lives of strippers in carnival shows.  For a decade after 1976, Meiselas had worked on the coverage of insurrection against the Somoza regime in Nicaragua. Her photographs from the time period have become a historical record as they uncover the disastrous effect of the civil war. Her direct and objective photographing of the war in Nicaragua recreated the horror of the war and the detrimental affect it had on the people.

From her collection in ICP [International center for photography], “Cuesta Del Plomo” captivated me. The photographs showed the deteriorated corpse of a man, assassinated on the hillside outside of Managua. The photograph focused on the man, with the top half of his body perished. Every time I looked at the photograph, I felt I was dragging the corpse, with my hands on the spinal cord. Meiselas also emphasized on the frame of the photograph. By including the tranquil landscape, Meiselas conveyed the idea that the once calm country has now become a land of death.

In time of war, children also suffered. In one photograph, children laid on the checkerboard pattern floor, smeared with their blood, as the rescue workers tried to save them from a house, destroyed by a bomb dropped in Managua. The eyes of one child, no longer sparkling with optimism and hope, started at the other one, bruised and unconscious. To see their eyes, slowly closing, I felt that war shouldn’t be this way at all. From this photograph, I began to understand why Meiselas stayed in Nicaragua for a long period of time. Seeing these children dying from the War, Meiselas felt the obligation to photograph those moments to inform the society the brutality of war.

Classified as a “concerned photographer,” Cornell Capa worked to expose revolutions and hardships, especially in Latin America. Capa was born in Hungary into a secular Jewish family in 1918. He was inspired to go into photography due to his brother, Robert Capa−a war photographer who was killed while taking photos in Indochina. In 1974, he created the International Center of Photography (ICP) in order to honor his brother’s cause and to strengthen photojournalism. Currently, the ICP is featuring an exhibit of his various works.

One of Capa’s photos that managed to epitomize the working class in Puerto Barrios, Guatemala was of a “Peasant with patched pants listening to land distribution speech.” The photo was taken during the summer of 1953 and featured a poor man with battered clothes listening intently amongst a crowd of people. This one man seemed to represent the entire laborer population of his time, as he had his back turned away from the photo so as to not put a face on poverty. It was captured during the presidency of Jacobo Arbenz Guzman, who strongly supported agrarian reform and the redistribution of land to peasants. In this manner, the photo shows what Capa referred to as “…a beginning of a new life” for the less fortunate population of Guatemala.

Another country that Capa visited was Argentina. What he focused on the most while there was the dictatorship of Juan Peron and the effects that it had on his followers. A piece that I found amusing was “Portrait of Eva Peron being hoisted before rally at which Juan Peron announced and withdrew his resignation,” taken in Buenos Aires the August of 1955. The story behind this dealt with Peron’s supporters rallying to get him back in office after he resigned, which resulted in his invalidation of the resignation. The mere presence of these huge portraits of Juan and Eva Peron within the photograph is enough to make any viewer chuckle, for the idea of someone putting a self-portrait large enough to cover a building side seems crazy. Considering the amount of respect and reverence that Peron’s supporters had for him at the time, it seems plausible that the pair would be hailed in such a way. Yet the absurdity of this photograph and its benevolent portrayal of the two leaders disappear in the subsequent photos of the exhibit, wherein former supporters are shown rallying against them.

Although his profession was viewed to be of artistic value, Capa did not focus on making his photos visually pleasing. He wanted his photos to tell a story that would move his viewer and inform him/her about the existing conditions of the world. Through his work in Guatemala and Argentina, he thoroughly expresses his concern for his subject matter and dedication to his purpose as a photographer.

The photography of Susan Meiselas captures the political conflicts and struggles in Central America during the 1970s and 80s. What is so great about her collections is her portrayal of the struggles of her subjects. Her images seem to reconstruct history and trigger the memory of those who feel connected to the time period of the subjects.
Meiselas traveled to many places to photograph her subjects. At the age of 24, Meiselas traveled throughout New England and was extremely interested in photographing women who earned their living by performing in girl shows for carnivals hence naming her first book, Carnival Strippers, in 1976. Later in 1981, she published Nicaragua in which she captured the escalating civil war that was erupting in Nicaragua. In 2004, she returned to Nicaragua to follow-up on the aftermath of the political disruption and display mural-sized photographs to reestablish history.
One of her photos from this collection that particularly caught my attention was the photograph with a young female child in pink who stands atop the rubble that was once her home. Titled “Returning Home,” this photo was taken in Masaya in 1978 when she returns home to find it destroyed. Debris is scattered around her as she holds dusty pans and stares into the camera with a torn and disturbed visage.
Separated from her collection of political conflicts, a photo titled “End of the Road” caught my attention because of it’s solace and loneliness from the world around it. From the series called “Porch Portraits” in 1974, the photo captures in the vast distance a desolate house with one tree at each side. The house sits seemingly in the middle of nowhere and is isolated from life. Moreover, the despondent and cloudy atmosphere amplifies the melancholy and dismal feeling of loneliness.