The Importance of Embracing Mistakes in Photography

The Importance of Embracing Mistakes in Photography

The art of photography thrives not just on the celebration of successes but equally on the acknowledgment and analysis of failures. Understanding what doesn’t work in one’s photography can be as crucial as recognizing what does, providing valuable insights for personal growth and style development. 

Coming to you from Shoot On Film — by Ari Jaaksi, this insightful video takes a refreshing turn from the usual triumphs of photography as shown on the internet to a candid examination of mistakes and misses. Jaaksi opens up about the images that didn’t turn out as hoped and delves into a critical review of his work. This approach underscores an important aspect of photography: the relentless pursuit of improvement. By scrutinizing his own work, Jaaksi demonstrates how you can learn from failures to refine your vision and technique. The discussion on adjusting to lighting conditions and the importance of composition offers practical advice that can significantly impact your photographic outcomes.

Jaaksi’s personal anecdotes from his experiences shooting in Mexico City and his hometown bring to life the challenges photographers face in real-world scenarios. His story about the photograph taken early in Mexico City, expecting it to be perfect only to be disappointed by the harsh lighting and overwhelming background, serves as a poignant reminder of the unpredictability and impermanence of photographic moments. Similarly, his experimentation with different compositional rules and his reflections on choosing the right film type for a given setting emphasize the need for adaptability and intentionality in photography. These insights encourage you to embrace and learn from your mistakes.

Moreover, Jaaksi’s adventures with various cameras and settings, from the streets of Mexico City to the quiet fogs of Finland, illustrate the importance of choosing the right equipment for your vision. His experiences with the Holga camera and his exploration of color versus black and white film highlight how technical choices can profoundly affect the narrative and emotional impact of your images. This narrative brings forth an essential truth: the continuous evolution of a photographer’s skill set is driven by both their successes and their shortcomings. Check out the video above for the full rundown from Jaaksi.

“Something I was grappling with a lot and I’m still grappling with is – what are my photographs about?”

“Something I was grappling with a lot and I’m still grappling with is – what are my photographs about?”

(Image credit: Mikko Takkunen)

In a departure from the well-trodden tourist panoramas, photographer Mikko Takkunen’s latest book, Hong Kong, unveils a Hong Kong bathed in a new light. Imagine towering skyscrapers not as imposing steel and glass giants, but as vibrant backdrops touched by the golden hues of the midday sun. 

Takkunen draws inspiration from the masters of mid-century street photography, with echoes of Saul Leiter’s evocative use of color and light. However, this is not a mere homage – Takkunen injects his own distinctive and contemporary voice. 

His lens forgoes the familiar landmarks, instead leading us on a captivating journey through Hong Kong’s labyrinthine side streets and unbeaten paths. By capturing the exquisite details and quiet scenes often overlooked by the hustle and bustle of city life, Takkunen provides a peak through the cracks into the still beauty of the region, and in turn, its people. Hong Kong is a captivating portrait of the country, one that celebrates both its grandeur and its hidden gems, all captured with a fresh and innovative perspective. 

In this interview I sit down with Mikko Takkunen and discuss his first major body of work, ahead of the release of his monograph Hong Kong, published by Kehrer. 

(Image credit: Mikko Takkunen)

How did you first come to photography? What was your entryway?

My first entry was while I was studying international relations. I’m from a very small town in the southeast of Finland and I always wanted to get away, so I ended up studying politics and international relations in Aberdeen, Scotland. I had been active in some of the NGOs and activist groups and I guess I was out to save the world. I thought that by studying international relations I would end up working for the UN or some sort of NGO. 

It was during that time in Aberdeen when I would be hiking in the highlands with my friends that I started taking photos. Just of my friends and nature, but it soon became very much a passion and I was taking photos all the time. You know at parties there was always a camera around my neck. 

It wasn’t until one of my friends showed me the documentary film War Photographer by James Nachtwey that I learned about a thing called photojournalism. I felt like it combined my two big interests at the time – international relations and photography. 

What happened next?

When I graduated from Aberdeen in 2006 I enrolled at the very last minute through the clearing process to study photojournalism in Swansea, Wales, which I started just a couple of months after Aberdeen. It was only there that I started to learn about the history of photography and the history of photojournalism. 

I then worked for two and a half years as a press photographer for the Scandinavian media in London, until I heard about this opportunity to move to the editing side for The New York Times. I applied for it and I got it. So in 2013, I sold my cameras and started editing and that’s what I’ve been doing as my day job ever since.

So you sold your cameras in 2013 – why was that and what made you buy them again?

The reason I ended up selling them was mainly because I didn’t want to be perceived as trying to play for both teams as a photo editor and a photographer. I felt as though editors and photographers would feel like I was trying to compete in some way. 

I was still taking photos with my phone just like everybody else, but it wasn’t until around 2018 when my wife bought me a digital rangefinder camera that I started taking photos with a proper camera again – but still only occasionally on holidays or with family. 

At the end of 2019, when I was based in Hong Kong, I was told that The New York Times, my current employer was going to transfer me back to New York. The realization that we were going to leave Hong Kong, the place where our first child had been born the year prior, and a place we really had learned to love, somehow made me want to start taking serious photographs of the city. 

So it was the sense of leaving Hong Kong that drew you to want to capture it?

Yes, initially. There was the aspect that we were leaving and I didn’t know if we would ever return, but it was also right at the end of 2019 which had been very tumultuous in Hong Kong, with massive street protests that lasted through 2019 to early 2020. There were street protests and barricades all over the city daily, often in our neighborhood, so it was right after that time.

Then in 2020, the mainland government issued this kind of national security law, which stifled freedom of speech in Hong Kong. So you could kind of also feel that Hong Kong was changing.

So the fact that I knew I was leaving, and the fact that I felt like Hong Kong was changing in many ways. The New York Times decided in the summer of 2020 to move its Asia headquarters from Hong Kong to Seoul, as a result of some of those changes – and then on top of that from the beginning of 2020, we had the pandemic.  

The pandemic hit and my transfer to New York was delayed by 18 months because we weren’t allowed to leave Hong Kong or allowed to enter the US. In the end, the fact that it took 18 months was very much a lucky strike for me because it made me decide – I want to make a book. 

(Image credit: Mikko Takkunen)

How did you adapt your shooting to the pandemic?

So I started taking photos in early 2020, during my tram rides to work and back, but then in March 2020 we were sent home to work remotely. I spent the first days working from home and I wouldn’t leave the apartment for three or four days at a time. We were on the 19th floor of a fairly tall apartment building, and wanting to continue the work, I started taking photos from our bedroom and living room window. 

I continued the photography I started, and when restrictions lifted I started going out at night. Then I would roam the streets for days on my own and it was a lovely time because I would jump on a ferry or tram and walk thousands of steps a day, so it was a special time without knowing how long I had left in Hong Kong. 

A period of uncertainty for sure!

Very much so, yeah!

Did you look to symbolize this in the images?

Well, something that I was grappling with a lot and I’m still grappling with is – what are my photographs about? Because I come from very much a photojournalism tradition and at work, many of the images are very obviously about something, whether it’s the war in Ukraine or Israel and Gaza, but with my photography less so.

During my time in Hong Kong, I fell hard into researching mid-century New York street photography with photographers like Saul Leiter and Ernst Haas – one of my favorites. If you know about Haas’ famous Life Magazine essay, which was the first color essay published in Life Magazine, called ‘Images of a Magic City’, it was revolutionary. 

It ran over two covers and it was these very striking images of New York, which weren’t necessarily about something, there were just like colors and shapes and structures and so on. I think it was in this tradition, that kind of photography, that I wanted to capture Hong Kong, to present it in a new way.

(Image credit: Mikko Takkunen)

So what were you looking for when creating the images? Did you have a point of departure?

I’m trying to make slightly different pictures, of anything that caught my eye. I liberated myself from having to have a meaning, like if I take a photograph of this thing because I like it, do I have to be able to say what it is about? I don’t think so, although the photojournalist in me is still grappling with that.

When you look at the book there are no captions or precise locations or dates and I wanted the whole of the series that I put in the book to work as a whole and leave it to the reader in a way to get their sense of it.

I’m not afraid of trying to capture beauty, but I would want it to be a surprising beauty. I have one particular image that I shot of a street restaurant on a neighborhood street where it’s a kitchen still life, there’s a bucket and bright primary colors. I just thought it was such a beautiful scene, the image is an appreciation of that. 

If you choose, you can also read something into it. You can see it’s a very basic restaurant, it’s not your Michelin kitchen, so you can always see beyond the obvious, but I was taking that particular image because of the beautiful light and the color that caught my eye. 

When I was making the edit, I had specific thoughts in my mind. I tried to build the edit as a journey through Hong Kong, but what I call an off-beat journey. I don’t have pictures from the peak or the hiking trails, there are certainly some more obvious Hong Kong symbols too, but they are my impressions of Hong Kong. 

To notice these quiet scenes takes a lot of observation in the present moment. Is this a way you have always worked?

I have two kids and a day job so I don’t get to go out with the camera as often as I would like to, but when I go I feel like I’m like a bull out of a gate in a rodeo, super excited. Especially those first few minutes or first half hour with the excitement of being out in the street – everything is interesting!

It depends on light, too. In Hong Kong, I was always seeking very sunny or very hard light. I would often shoot through the middle of the day, the time that photographers often try to avoid, just because the light is so hard and the shadows so dark. There are images from Central where you get very deep shadows because of the skyscrapers that you wouldn’t get at any other time of the day. 

(Image credit: Mikko Takkunen)

You are a very successful photo editor for The New York Times. How did this experience inform your photography approach?

I spend my day job looking at images, but it’s a very different kind of photography than what I do myself. But I would say it mostly informed me in the actual editing process. First of all, I’ve noticed that a lot of photographers are not great editors of their work and I was questioning when I was trying to put my work together, should I do it myself or should I leave it to somebody else? I had a vision of how the work would flow and the images should be included, so I felt I should try and do it myself.  

The only person that I showed it to was my wife, who is also a photographer and a photo editor. She picked up 13 images from my edit that she said should be removed, and I took out 12 of those. I did it grudgingly as I didn’t first agree with her, but when I considered it, I knew she was right, and the book was better. 

When did you realize that the work would become a book?

About half a year into it I realized that it’s not just going to involve me taking photos of home but this is something bigger. I started posting on Instagram, but I also felt like there was some project here, and at this point, I had very much gotten into photo books, it’s my favorite form of looking at photography. So the last year of the project, and of my time in Hong Kong, I was thinking that this is going to be a book.

Did this change your way of shooting?

What was important to me is that there are certain photography books where I love the work, but like some collection books, they can be all over the place with no flow. I knew Hong Kong would not be the ‘best images of Hong Kong’ kind of book, but a whole concise body of work that took the viewer on a journey. 

There are images that I love from my Hong Kong pictures that didn’t make it because either they were too similar to what was already included or they didn’t belong to the edit. I don’t necessarily think that these are the best 69 images – I mean I certainly want the very best to be included – but overall it’s 69 images that work together to make the whole. 

(Image credit: Mikko Takkunen)

Most of the images in Hong Kong are shot in portrait orientation. Is there a reason for this?

There were photographers like Saul Leiter and Ernst Haas that I noticed shot a lot of verticals and then I started trying it out myself. I then started seeing the world that way and it just worked. Hong Kong is a very dense and claustrophobic place in some ways and a very vertical city, so shooting in portrait emphasizes that. 

I also find that it’s easy to isolate subjects shooting vertically. On the street, if you shoot in landscape / horizontally then you tend to get more people in the scene; shooting vertically makes it easier to isolate the subject. 

I would be remiss if I didn’t ask about your photography equipment. What did you shoot with? And how did your choice of camera and lenses help you capture your vision?

I shot with four cameras, but ninety percent was shot with a Sony RX100 VII – a small compact camera with a 24-200mm equivalent telephoto zoom lens. As it’s a fixed zoom you can’t get wide apertures, but most of the time I shoot with a large F-stop like f/8 or f/11.

I also shot with a Sony HX90, which is even smaller and compact but it has an insane 24-720mm equivalent lens, which I used to capture images from the 19th-floor window onto the lower rooftop streets below. I could get close to people mostly using around 400mm or so, but I didn’t only shoot on a telephoto – there are photos from the street that were shot at 80, 28, 35, and 50mm.

What I like about the Sony cameras is they’re tiny – and I even started buying my clothing based on if the pockets would fit them so I could have them with me all the time. The telephoto capabilities also helped to compress the scene and helped depict a sense of density and claustrophobia.  

I also used a Fujifilm X100F, the camera that my wife got me in 2018, which was my first proper camera after many years of shooting with my phone. Then there are two images in the book that were taken with my iPhone 11 Pro, including the back cover of the yellow door. It’s quite incredible the back cover holds the quality and I don’t think you would be able to know that it’s an iPhone image. 

(Image credit: Mikko Takkunen)

The book has a fantastic introduction in the form of an essay by Geoff Dyer. Could you tell us a little about your collaboration with him?

I was honored to get Geoff Dyer to write the accompanying essay, I love his photography writing. What I love about him is that he doesn’t necessarily try to intellectualize or interpret photographs, he writes what he feels. He was my dream writer for my book. Even when pitching the book to publishers, I said I would like Geoff Dyer to write for it, which at that point I had never been in touch with him. 

I managed to hunt down his email address and sent him the book and to my surprise, he wrote back to me and said he was willing to write for the book. I was honored to have somebody so respected as a photography writer write about my work and share what kind of thoughts came to his mind when he looked at my work, and what kind of references he saw there.

Just like Robert Frank’s The Americans has the famous Jack Kerouac essay in it, I’m not going to compare myself to Robert Frank, but Geoff Dyer is my Kerouac. I loved what he wrote. I told him to write what he wanted and I couldn’t be happier. I’m also excited to hear what people think about his essay. 

What do you hope people will take away from this project?

I hope that the images will bring enjoyment. By that, I mean a visual pleasure, but also a certain nostalgia for Hong Kong for those who have lived there or are familiar with Hong Kong. I’m definitely not trying to make any political or sociological statement here, it’s more like my kind of a creative statement. 

I’m very much a countryside boy from a small town and all my life I’ve had this fascination with big cities. I’ve had the fortune to live in London, New York, and Hong Kong, but in some way, Hong Kong feels to me like the ultimate metropolis and this is my love letter to that. I hope that it will bring joy to people. 

What’s next? Is there a current project you are working on? And what will you take from your experience making Hong Kong?

Before I came back to New York, I had all the influences of street photographers from New York so I was excited to see what work I could make in the same city as my heroes. So as soon as I got here, in my free time, I started shooting. I don’t have as much free time as in Hong Kong, but I go out once or twice a month for a couple of hours – and that’s pretty much what I have. 

I have a pretty good set of images of New York already, but I do want to shoot further. I am hoping to make a sort of trilogy of cities; I would like to do New York next and then, I don’t know why, but LA has always been this kind of mythical city to me. 

The New York work is very much in the same vein as the Hong Kong work, but there may be even fewer people and more abstract details, going even tighter than in the Hong Kong work. Whenever I have a chance, I’m eager to get on the streets and keep working on it. 

(Image credit: Mikko Takkunen)

I have not seen Hong Kong depicted with such a serene and dignified approach since the photographs by Fan Ho. Takkunen’s observations of the city take us on a collective journey through exceptional compositional technique and color theory and leave us with as many questions as we have answers. 

It was such a pleasure to get to sit down and discuss Hong Kong with Mikko, and the added insights into his approach, equipment, and intentions bring an added dimension to the already stellar work. 

Street photography is a term that is often used casually in today’s world. However, not all images taken in this genre are created with sufficient thought and consideration of the subject. If you are someone who yearns for the classic street photographers of yesteryear, then Mikko Takkunen’s Hong Kong is for you. I highly anticipate it to be one of the best street photography books released this year, it’s a photography gem!

Hong Kong by Mikko Takkunen is published by Kehrer and is available now via the links below for $45 / £38 (Australian pricing to be confirmed). 

(Image credit: Mikko Takkunen)

You may also be interested in our guides to the best coffee table books, the best books for street photography, and the best books on portrait photography.

One photographer wins two Radford Club categories

One photographer wins two Radford Club categories
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Charles Lynch of Christiansburg won the photo challenge and the open category at the Radford Photo Club March meeting.

He won the Food Challenge with a photo of bottles of hot sauce taken at a Radford grill, according to a photo club news release.

“I liked the colors and the arrangement of the bottles with a beer bar background giving it a familiar sense of place,” Lynch said.

He won the open category with a photo of a mountain valley landscape taken in West Virginia, according to the release.

“The wood grain of the farmhouse suggested black and white conversion; and it was a keeper,” he said. “It is just a beautiful scene, which requires no justification at all.”

The March meeting began a new offering. At each meeting, one or two members will make brief presentations about famous photographers plus a photo in similar style of their own. In March, Michele Borgarelli of Blacksburg presented the works of Luigi Ghirri. Also at the meeting, works from the February meeting’s four stations – the library, a tiny diorama, a fancy cake, and a floral still life – were presented.

People are also reading…

In April, the photo challenge is photography in the dark, using artificial light. There will also be walks to photograph early flowers during April, which will be publicized on the club’s Facebook page. The date of the meeting had not yet been finalized last week.

The Radford Photo Club, which meets at the Radford Public Library, is made up of professional and amateur photographers from throughout the New River Valley. Meetings, events, and outings are open to the public. If you have questions about the club, email Lucy Gilmore at lucyg.gilmore@gmail.com or Michele Borgarelli at mborgarelli@gmail.com

– The Roanoke Times

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Photographer Sebastião Salgado’s brush with death: ‘My translator said: “They are going to kill us”’

Photographer Sebastião Salgado’s brush with death: ‘My translator said: “They are going to kill us”’

‘I’m 80 years old and I work on projects that take six, seven or eight years to shoot,” says ­Sebastião Salgado. “If I start a ­story now, I probably cannot finish it, because I’ll be dead. We die. After 80, we don’t live too many more years.”

The great Brazilian photographer is talking to me from his studio in Paris. This year’s recipient of the Sony World Photography Awards’ Outstanding Contribution to Photography is still working today, and has even been experimenting with drones for the first time. But the epic works that made Salgado’s name, his images of men pouring into the earth in search of gold at the Serra Pelada mine in Brazil in 1986; the oil fields of Kuwait on fire after the Gulf War in 1991; or refugees fleeing famine in Africa in the 1980s and 1990s, are behind him. 

He’s been devoting his time to editing his vast photographic archive. The thing that amazes him is that revisiting these images transports him instantly to the moment each photograph was taken, from choosing its speed and aperture right down to the smells all around him. 

“I’m feeling exactly what I felt in this moment,” he says. “It’s very powerful.” As he looked at his ­photographs from a trip to Ecuador, when he was ill but forced himself to carry on shooting, he felt the physical sensations return. “I was as sick as when I took the photograph.” And then he looked at what he shot in 1994: “How many times when I was editing my pictures that I photographed in Rwanda, the genocide and all the things that happened, was I crying over the contact sheets, so that my wife came and said, ‘Sebastião, come and sleep.’ But it was impossible for me to go to sleep,” he says. “I was still there.”

He and his wife, Lélia Wanick Salgado, have been married for nearly 60 years. The first photograph he ever took was of her, sitting on a windowsill in Paris in 1970, when they were students. She has been there all along, making it possible for him to begin a career as a photographer, organising the logistics of his intrepid voyages, chasing opportunities to sell his work, raising their sons Juliano and Rodrigo, who was born with Down’s syndrome, in the long periods when he was away shooting. “I can’t say where I end and where Lélia begins,” he said recently.  

Gold miners in Serra Pelada, Brazil, 1986


Gold miners in Serra Pelada, Brazil, 1986


Credit: Sebastião Salgado

It was Lélia who gave Salgado hope to start again in the 2000s, when he was in despair. The horror of the Rwanda genocide, which he witnessed so soon after he had been in the former Yugoslavia, where ­ethnic tensions had spilt into massacres, almost ended Salgado’s career. What he saw made him feel that we no longer deserve to live, he told Wim Wenders in the 2014 ­biographical documentary The Salt of the Earth, co-directed with Jul­i­ano Salgado. “We humans are terrible animals,” he said. “In Europe, in Africa, in South America, everywhere. We are extremely violent. It’s an endless story… a tale of madness.” He could not countenance photographing any more of it.

I want to know if he ever felt afraid. Early in his career, Salgado was sent on an assignment to photograph the US president Ronald Reagan. He was on the scene when John Hinckley Jr tried to assassinate Reagan in Washington in 1981, and took a series of shots that were sent around the world. Does one have to overcome fear in those moments? “No, you are there to photograph, and you photograph,” he says, “you are inside the moment, and that is it. Photographers are not philosophers, they are not judges, they are not journalists. If they are not there, they cannot have the picture.”

He begins to tell me a story of when he was in Tanzania, heading to the border with Rwanda in a Jeep, “and I saw a group of guys come from the bush. I said, ‘Stop the car’, and I jump out with my translator, and I ask this group, where are you coming from? They say, ‘We have come from the River Akagera, not far from here, where they are killing a lot of Tutsis.’” 

Fishermen in Xingu Indigenous Territory, state of Mato Grosso, 2005


Fishermen in Xingu Indigenous Territory, state of Mato Grosso, 2005


Credit: Sebastião Salgado

The men had crossed the river, the border between the two countries, by boat to escape the slaughter. They told him it wasn’t far, a seven-kilometre walk, so he and the translator set off. 

“We arrived there,” he recalls, “the situation was dramatic, and I was photographing it. I saw a boat going back and forth across the river and I start to ask the guy if it was possible to go in the boat to the other side, because the story was happening on the other side. In a moment, this group of at least seven or eight men with machetes was around us. My translator said, ‘They are going to kill us.’” Their bodies would be thrown into the river where the crocodiles would ensure that no one ever found them. 

“I said to the guys, ‘But why?’”

“‘It is because you are French – the French are backing the Hutus against the Tutsis, while the Tutsis are dying.’ I said, ‘But I’m not French, I’m Brazilian.’” 

They demanded to see his ­passport. “And then one of the guys went, ‘Brazil is the country of Pelé!’ And because of soccer, we began speaking and they became friendly. But if I had not had a ­Brazilian passport, we would have been killed.”

Sometimes, he says, “you are on the edge. In the war in Angola, three times I was on the edge of life and death. And I was not killed. 

Photographer Sebastião Salgado


Photographer Sebastião Salgado


Credit: Renato Amoroso

“I’m not a hero,” he adds. “I know when I’m very afraid because I have no more saliva in my mouth. It’s completely dry – I’m afraid. But I was there to do my pictures.”

Salgado has sometimes been ­criticised because his photographs retain a beauty, even when the reality they depict is unbearable. We talk about whether it feels wrong to take images of people in extreme states of suffering, in death or dying, as Salgado has done. 

“For me, ethics is a very thin line,” he says. “At a few moments in my life, I have pictures that I do not make, I don’t press the button. I put my camera down.” In other moments, he says, “it was necessary to do them. Because I was there to show what was happening in front of my lens” – to capture things that would never happen again. “I never photographed with a bad conscience. I never went there to do ‘interesting pictures’. I was always looking for the beauty of the people. To see if I can, with my camera, show the dignity of the person in front of me.”

The most remarkable thing about Salgado is that he ever became a photographer at all. He was raised on a remote farm in Brazil, 500km north of Rio de Janeiro. “I came from a different world,” he says. It was eight hours by horse to the nearest village. They lived on the food they produced, and his parents “had the only radio in the region, and on Sundays all the farmers from around came to hear the radio”. Music was his point of contact with a world beyond, from the songs of Brazil’s north-east Atlantic coast to the music of the south where river systems connect Brazil with Paraguay. The poems in their lyrics “created a universe of images in my mind”.

To become an artist was never a possibility, but he recalls, “We rode horses all the time, and sang all the time – when you saw a jaguar, you made a song for the jaguar, when you saw a bird, you made a song for the bird.” It would be many, many years later when he would pick up a camera for the first time, but his creative impulse, he believes, was born on the farm. 

The foot of a marine iguana, Galápagos, Ecuador, 2004


The foot of a marine iguana, Galápagos, Ecuador, 2004


Credit: Sebastião Salgado

His father sent him to study economics in the nearest large city, Vitória, where he and Lélia first met; they became involved in political resistance to the military dictatorship in Brazil, and left, for their own safety, for Paris in 1969, where Salgado worked towards a PhD and Lélia studied architecture. It was she who needed a camera for her studies; they bought “a nice Pentax” in Geneva in June 1970. 

Salgado was 26 years old, and he says, “I had never looked through a camera viewfinder in my life.” But through it, he realised it was poss­ible to “materialise” what he thought was beautiful, what was ugly, what made him happy, what made him unhappy. It became an obsession. Soon, he had his own camera, which he took on trips abroad for the World Bank; before long, he would decide to leave his well-paid career path and embark on a precarious new life as a professional photographer. Lélia helped to find him commissions, as Sal­gado’s talent, empathy and sense of drama (he shoots into the sun to create startling contrasts of light) blossomed in his photographs. 

By 1979, he was working for the renowned Magnum agency, but already deeply engaged in his own Other Americas project, in which he travelled around his native continent, photographing rural communities where, as he put it later, “dignity and poverty ride on the same horse”. It was years in the making and he followed it with vast studies of labourers and migrants. Gradually, he became drawn towards life at its most extreme: famine in Ethiopia and in the Sahel, where savannah meets the Sahara; war in the Balkans; his shattering experiences in Rwanda and Congo.

Refugees wait outside Korem camp, draped in blankets to keep out the cold morning wind. Ethiopia, 1984


Refugees wait outside Korem camp, draped in blankets to keep out the cold morning wind. Ethiopia, 1984


Credit: Sebastião Salgado

It was Lélia who showed him a new way forward when he was dep­leted in body and mind. The couple left Europe in 1999 and ret­urned to the farm where Salgado had grown up. The overfarming of ­cattle and the chopping down of trees had worn out the land, reducing it from a verdant corner of the Atlantic Forest to arid hillsides. Lélia suggested they replant the trees, which they have been doing ever since, creating the Instituto Terra biological reserve. “We’ve planted more than three million trees,” Salgado says. 

It inspired him to undertake a new project, photographing parts of the world where nature remains unspoilt. Genesis (2013) was shot over eight years between 2004-12, and Salgado followed it up with the photographic essay Amazonia (2021), which took him another nine years. He described former president Jair Bolsonaro as a bandit, for allowing widespread development of indigenous lands. “He was destroying an ecosystem that is essential for everything on this planet,” he says. Is his socialist successor, Lula, any better? “One of the first things he did was to create a ministry of indigenous people,” he says. “He put protection of the Amazon rainforest in place.” It won’t be easy, he says, suggesting we need “a Nato for the planet”. 

Does he, once a supporter of the ALN guerrilla insurgency against the Brazilian military dictatorship in the 1960s, advocate violent resistance against climate change? He attended Cop26, in Glasgow, he says, and saw “CEOs arriving in their private jets. The only ones who were moving against that were the younger activists… their future is in danger.” He admires them, he says: “OK, sometimes it’s too much, but this is a very serious moment. They have a right.”


Sebastião Salgado is the recipient of the ­Outstanding Contribution to Photography award of the Sony World Photography Awards 2024. Exhibition at Somerset House, London WC2 (worldphoto.org), from April 19 to May 6

How to photograph the total solar eclipse with your camera or smartphone

How to photograph the total solar eclipse with your camera or smartphone

The total solar eclipse is coming, and of course you’ll want to capture this once-in-a-lifetime moment with your best camera. Whether that’s your DSLR, mirrorless, or smartphone, we’re here to give you the best tips possible. But let’s be honest, taking photos of the sun is hard on a normal day, and the total eclipse won’t make things easier.

Let’s set expectations. Even if you have a great camera or one of the best smartphones, your camera and your equipment may not be up to the task, and you probably won’t get an amazing shot worth hanging on your wall or selling in a gallery, not unless you are a dedicated solar photographer.

Total Solar Eclipse showing people wearing glasses and looking at the eclipse

(Image credit: Shutterstock)

That’s why we have tips for taking the best shots of the eclipse that capture the moment and the special day, not just the sun and moon in the sky. We’ll teach you how to set up properly, stay safe during the eclipse, and have a great time taking your best shots.

Most of all, don’t forget to look up – with the proper eyewear in place, of course. Don’t spend the entire eclipse managing your gear or you’ll miss a truly stellar event that likely won’t come your way again in your lifetime.

What is a total solar eclipse?

A total solar eclipse is when the Moon passes in front of the Sun, completely covering the face. This incredible event happens roughly every 18 months, which sounds frequent, but usually only a small part of the Earth has a good view of any total eclipse. This time around, the eclipse will reach a massive cross-section of North America, including many large cities in the United States, Canada, and Mexico. The next total eclipse in the US won’t come until 2044.

According to NASA, the eclipse happens because the Sun is 400 times larger than the Moon, and it is also 400 times farther away from the Earth than the Moon. This serendipity means that the Sun and the Moon appear to be the same size in the sky. When the two objects line up, the Moon covers the Sun almost perfectly.

We say ‘almost’ because the type of eclipse depends on how far the Moon is from the Earth in its orbit. When the Moon is farthest from the earth and closer to the Sun, the Moon cannot block the entire face of the Sun, so the eclipse is not total.

Annular Eclipse ring of fire effect

During an annular eclipse, the moon does not totally block the sun (Image credit: Shutterstock ID 690404740)

This gives us an ‘annular’ eclipse, which produces the ring of fire effect around the Sun because some of the Sun’s face is still visible. During an annular eclipse, it is very dangerous to view the eclipse without proper eyewear.

This year’s total eclipse takes place when the Moon is closer to the Earth. During the total eclipse, the Moon will block all of the face of the sun, including the bright corona. When the Sun is totally blocked, it is technically safe to remove your eclipse eyewear, but only if you are in the path of totality, and only while the sun is totally blocked. NASA and the American Optometric Association still suggest leaving your glasses on, just to be safe.

Phases of a total Solar Eclipse

(Image credit: Shutterstock)

The ultimate treat is when the moon covers the entire face of the sun. This leaves the outer atmosphere of the Sun, the Corona, visible around the Moon.  Photographers love to capture every stage of the event, but that Corona shot is something truly special because the Corona is usually invisible to the eye, but visible when the Moon is blocking the Sun’s light. 

The total solar eclipse is often a once-in-a lifetime event. The eclipse itself seems to change everything. Darkness looms, birds start behaving strangely, and it gets noticeably colder. All of this adds up to a moment where you realize how incredible our solar system truly is.

When and where can I photograph the total solar eclipse?

(Image credit: Shutterstock)

The total solar eclipse on April 8, 2024, will cast its shadow of totality on land starting around Mazatlán, Sinaloa in Mexico at 11:07 AM local time. It will take around one hour forty minutes to cross the continent. During that time, some portion of the Sun may appear obscured by the moon, no matter where in the country you live. 

The total solar eclipse will reach totality, when the moon completely covers the face of the Sun, at the times listed below for major cities in each time zone. If you want a more detailed look, check out NASA’s excellent Where and When website. 

Swipe to scroll horizontally
Location Totality begins Totality ends
Mazatlán, Sinaloa 11:07 AM MST 11:11 AM MST
Dallas, Texas 1:40 PM CDT 1:44 PM CDT
Little Rock, Arkansas 1:51 PM CDT 1:54 PM CDT
Evansville, Indiana 2:02 PM CDT 2:05 PM CDT
Cleveland, Ohio 3:13 PM EDT 3:17 PM EDT
Erie, Pennsylvania 3:16 PM EDT 3:20 PM EDT
Buffalo, New York 3:18 PM EDT 3:22 PM EDT
Burlington, Vermont 3:26 PM EDT 3:29 PM EDT
Montreal, Quebec 3:26 PM EDT 3:27 PM EDT
Caribou Maine 3:32 PM EDT 3:34 PM EDT
Gander, Newfoundland 5:12 PM NT 5:14 PM NT

If you haven’t already picked your spot to see the eclipse, you may want to plan ahead to get the best shot possible. Unless you are carrying a serious zoom lens on a professional camera, your best shot of the eclipse is probably not going to be a close-up of the sun. You’ll want to have some scenery as well. 

To pick the best location, including the surroundings and any other background you’d like to include, check out the app PhotoPills. Though PhotoPills is a bit complicated to use, it does an amazing job helping you plan the best photos when the Sun and/or Moon are involved. 

With PhotoPills, you enter the date and time, then choose the location where you’ll be sitting, and the app will show you where the sun sits in the sky. If you want to shoot the total solar eclipse with the Statue of Liberty or your favorite local monument, PhotoPills is a must-have. We have more from PhotoPills below. 

What to know about shooting an eclipse with your camera

If you’re in the path of totality within the United States, Canada, or Mexico and want to capture the event, then there are a number of things to do to make sure you’re properly prepared. First, you’ll need to make sure you pack the right kit.

Other than your DSLR, picking the right lens is one of the most important considerations, especially if you have an idea of the type of shot that you want to capture. At the very least, you’ll want a 200mm telephoto lens or, even better, 300mm or longer. This will result in the sun taking up around a fifth of the height of the shot.

Photographers shooting the eclipse with DSLR cameras and solar filters attached

(Image credit: Shutterstock ID 700335634)

On the other end, if you want the total solar eclipse to take up your whole shot, then you’ll need to get a lens with 1,200mm range. This can also be achieved by pairing a telephoto lens with a teleconverter, which is a secondary lens that magnifies the center of your image. So, 1,200mm is possible with a 600mm lens and a 2x teleconverter. Teleconverters add more glass, though, so the shot may not be as bright or sharp as it would be with a dedicated lens. 

Getting the closest possible crop might seem like the best course of action, but there are other things to consider. The first is that the sun’s corona extends beyond the edge of the Sun and the total eclipse, and therefore a tight crop risks cutting off details. The second is that the closer the crop, the more regularly you’ll have to reframe.

To avoid both of these pitfalls, we recommend a lens focal length of between 400-800mm perfect for capturing all the beauty of a total solar eclipse.

Shooting the total solar eclipse – what you’ll need

How to photograph super blood moon

(Image credit: Shutterstock / Lesterman)

– Camera or phone
– A telephoto lens (at least 300mm – up to 1200mm)
– Safety solar filter
– Safety solar glasses
– Tripod
– Shutter release

For most photography, you’re all set with a DSLR and a lens, but that’s not the case when capturing the total solar eclipse. In the same way that you’ll need solar glasses for your eyes, you’ll also need a solar filter for your lens. This will help you avoid damaging components and ruining sensitive electronic parts.

Solar filters are fitted like any other filter, with a screw-in thread at the end of your lens. They block out enough UV and IR light to not only protect your equipment but also to protect your eyes when looking through the viewfinder.

The first step to finding the perfect filter is to find the diameter of your lens. This number, in mm, will be displayed either on the side or front of the lens and may even be preceded by the Ø symbol.

Total Solar Eclipse showing people wearing glasses and looking at the eclipse

(Image credit: Shutterstock)

With all your gear purchased and ready to go, it’s time to make sure everything is clean and free from dust. The last thing you’ll want is a speck of dust ruining that once-in-a lifetime photo. Use a camera cleaning kit, or if you want it done professionally, then it might be worth paying for the service for this special occasion.

Pack your gear into your favorite camera bag, or look at our best camera bags for some ideas. Get to your pre-determined site well ahead of time, set everything up, and wait for the magic to happen.

Step-by-step instructions for shooting an eclipse with your camera

Photopills

(Image credit: Future)

1. Choose your location
By far the easiest way to make sure you’re in the right location is to purchase the Photopills app ($10.99 / £10.99 / AU$14.99). The app includes an incredible augmented reality function that superimposes the moon onto your camera feed. Being able to frame your shot in advance will save you the stress of having to work on the fly. Preparation is key to avoiding missing that special shot, and if you can visit the location ahead of time, then all the better. Position your tripod and lens in your desired location, and make sure your lens is pointing in the correct direction.

2. Set your lens to manual focusing
You may be able to get away with autofocus, but to have maximum control, you are far better off switching to manual focus. By doing this, you’ll avoid the hassle of having to wait for the camera to find focus every time you want to take a snap.

3. Turn off VR/IS
There is no need for your camera to apply vibration reduction or image stabilization when you’re using a tripod. Turning these settings off will result in a better image.

4. Shoot in RAW
If you want to edit your image in post, then give yourself the most dynamic range by shooting in RAW format. This will enable you to adjust highlights, shadows, and the overall exposure in case you don’t capture it perfectly in camera.

Total Solar Eclipse showing the sun's corona

(Image credit: Shutterstock)

5. Choose spot metering
The only bright part of your shot is going to be the sun so make sure you meter on the sun specifically. Any of the other metering modes will struggle to accurately process the frame due to the amount of dark versus light parts.

6. Use aperture priority mode
Switch on your camera and make sure it is set to aperture priority mode. In this mode, all you have to do is set the aperture and the ISO. Your camera will work out the ideal shutter speed for a well-exposed shot. An aperture between f/5.6 and f/8 is ideal. Finally, adjust your ISO so that you get a shutter speed of somewhere between 1/100s and 1/500s. Keep in mind that the higher the ISO, the more noise that will be introduced.

7. Capture the solar eclipse
You are now ready to take some photographs. Use your camera’s self-timer or a remote shutter release to make sure you’re not touching your camera when the shutter is open. Any movement to the camera or tripod when the shutter is open could result in a blurry image.

What to know about shooting an eclipse with your phone

The most important thing to consider when you’re planning to shoot the total solar eclipse with your smartphone is just what sort of image you plan to capture. Even if you have one of the best smartphones with a real optical zoom lens, you won’t come close to making a photograph with an eclipse that dominates the image. 

As we mention above in our camera section, to photograph the eclipse in full view, you’d need a lens with around 1,200mm focal range. The iPhone 15 Pro Max has a 24mm equivalent main lens, and that 5X zoom lens only reaches to around 120mm. Even the 10X zoom lens on the older Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra is equivalent to around 240mm zoom. That’s very impressive for a smartphone, but not adequate for astrophotography.

Total Solar Eclipse showing people wearing glasses and looking at the eclipse

People watching the solar eclipse may be more interesting than the eclipse (Image credit: Shutterstock)

Instead of trying to capture a close-up of the Sun’s corona, why not use your smartphone for what it does best? Take photos of the entire scene. Take photos of the landscape as the Sun disappears. 

Even better, smartphone cameras are great for taking photos of people. Take photos of all the people around you, staring up at the eclipse with glasses on, wide-eyed with wonder. In 20 years, when the next eclipse rolls around, those are the photos that will be the most interesting: the photos that show what it was like to be there, not the photos that show just the moon and the sun. 

Step-by-step instructions for shooting an eclipse with your phone

1. Use a tripod (even if it’s not really a tripod)
You don’t need a tripod to stabilize your phone, but making sure your camera is steady is the best thing you can do for a sharp shot. On Amazon you can find plenty of options for phone tripods, or if you have a photo tripod you can just get an adapter to hold your phone. If you don’t have a tripod, find an object you can lean your phone against to hold it steady. 

2. Use the camera’s timer
When you tap the shutter button on screen, you can shake the phone, which causes blur. Better to set the timer. Look for the timer on the left side of the camera screen, when you hold your phone sideways (landscape). On iPhone and Galaxy phones, you’ll find a small clock icon that you can tap to set a timer.

iPhone camera software showing night mode and burst mode features

The iPhone timer option is shown here (Image credit: Philip Berne / Future)

3. Attach a solar filter
Normally, your phone can balance a scene with the sun just fine. During an eclipse, when the Moon partially blocks the Sun, your camera will adjust for the dark scene but the Sun will still radiate intense light. The difference can damage your camera sensor, just like it can damage your eyes. When the Moon is not totally blocking the Sun, you need to use a solar filter.

Samsung agrees. Company reps tell me “we encourage the use of a filter to protect your device for extended shots taken before, during, and after the eclipse when using a tripod.” The good news is that you don’t need to buy a special filter for your phone. If you have standard ISO 12312-2 eclipse glasses, you can just tape one of the lenses to the back of your phone. As long as it is covering your phone lens during the eclipse, your phone will be safe.

4. Turn down your exposure
Even during the darkness of the eclipse, the bright light of the Sun’s corona may be overexposed in your shot. You can dial down the exposure on an iPhone. When you focus, a yellow box appears with a small sun icon. Hold the sun icon and drag it down to lower the exposure value (EV).

On Galaxy and other Android phones, you may need to use your camera’s Pro mode. Don’t worry, you won’t have to mess with too many settings. Just look for EV (exposure value) and lower this to a negative number. Lower your exposure until you can see texture on the sun, not just a bright blob of light.

iPhone camera software showing night mode and burst mode features

The Night mode icons on the iPhone are shown in yellow (Image credit: Philip Berne / Future)

5. Shoot in Night mode during totality
When the sky is dark, Night Mode will help you balance the difference between the eclipse and your surroundings. On the iPhone, Night Mode should activate automatically when your scene gets dark. A special Night Mode icon will appear, and if you tap on the icon you can set the controls for longer or shorter shots.

On Galaxy phones there is a Night Mode you can manually select. On Pixel phones, this is called Night Sight mode. Experiment during the totality of the eclipse to take a variety of photos for the best possible results.

6. Shoot video and photos at the same time
Did you know your phone can shoot video and take photos at the same time? If you start taking a video of the eclipse, you’ll see a white circle appear on the screen. Tap that circle and your iPhone or Android phone will also take a photo, separate from the video. Just remember to use a solar filter when you shoot video before and after totality occurs.

Should I buy a lens attachment for my phone?

Sadly, extra lenses won’t help your smartphone take better eclipse photos. While there are some interesting lens attachments for smartphones, especially the very cool lenses made by Moment, I wouldn’t recommend buying a lens attachment to photograph the solar eclipse. Lens attachments are made to work with the main camera, the 1X zoom lens, so they won’t help take better photos of the eclipse. 

If you attach a lens to the 5X zoom on the iPhone 15 Pro Max or Galaxy S24 Ultra, the image will not be clear because attachment lenses are not made to work with those zoom cameras. The zoom camera leaves too much space between the sensor and the lens, making it hard for the camera to properly focus. Your shot will be blurry. 

Also, adding 2X zoom won’t be enough for great solar photography. To fill your frame with the eclipse, you’d need at least 600mm focal range, and up to 1,200mm would be ideal. The iPhone 15 Pro Max and Galaxy S24 Ultra give you 120mm with 5X zoom, and doubling that would result in 240mm equivalent. That’s nice, but still not close enough for a great, detailed eclipse photo. 

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How to photograph solar eclipse with Android phone

How to photograph solar eclipse with Android phone

There will be a total solar eclipse tomorrow, Monday, April 8. While this may not be the first time you will be seeing a solar eclipse, it will certainly be something that will deserve a capture. But you would want to be fully prepared to get the best possible shot, and that’s where this guide on how to photograph solar eclipse with Android phones steps in.

It will equip you with all the tips and tricks that you would want to know to capture solar eclipse photos with your Android phone. So, if you’re excited about witnessing the celestial event tomorrow, you would want to keep on reading.

Safety First!

No matter what, you shouldn’t look directly at the sun. Even for a moment, it can cause permanent eye damage or even blindness. This holds true whether there’s an eclipse or not. The sun’s intense light is always dangerous.

solar glasses

During a solar eclipse, when the moon blocks part of the sun, the sun’s light stays just as strong. The only safe time to look directly at the sun with your bare eyes is during the brief period of totality in a total solar eclipse. But even then, certified solar viewing glasses are essential.

Always prioritize your safety. For the entire eclipse, from start to finish, wear certified solar viewing glasses whenever you glance at the sun.

How to Capture Solar Eclipse with Your Android Phone

There’s a crucial step before you dive into photographing a solar eclipse. That would be to be mentally prepared for the dynamic lighting conditions. Eclipses involve constant light changes, requiring you to adjust your camera settings on the fly. But if you consider the things below, it can get easy to capture the celestial event tomorrow:

Get Some Handy Photography Gears

While your Android phone is the key player, a few additional tools can elevate your eclipse photography experience. Here’s what to consider:

Solar Film

This special filter acts like sunglasses for your camera lens. It will allow only safe amounts of sunlight through during the eclipse’s brighter phases. Think of it as a layer of protection for your camera sensor. Look for a solar film designed specifically for camera lenses. You can also repurpose certified solar eclipse glasses in a pinch!

Solar eclipse

Tripod

This handy stand provides much-needed stability. It will be especially helpful for capturing clear images during the eclipse’s darker stages when slower shutter speeds are needed.

Also, a tripod frees up your hands for adjusting camera settings and holding the solar film. Consider a compact phone tripod for portability. If portability isn’t a concern, you can also explore robust options for a better mobile photography setup.

Gizchina News of the week

tripod for solar eclipse

Remember to Use the Telephoto Lens to Photograph the Solar Eclipse

Your phone’s main camera likely won’t be enough to capture the breathtaking details of the eclipse. That’s where your telephoto lens comes in if you have one. Look for the option with the highest number in your viewfinder (usually achieved with a simple tap).

Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra camera

Here’s the key: resist the urge to max out the zoom! While some phones boast impressive zoom capabilities (like the Galaxy S24 Ultra’s 100x!), extreme zooming often sacrifices image quality. Aim for a balance between getting a close-up and maintaining clarity.

Google Pixel 8 Pro

For most Android phones, a 20-30x zoom will be more than sufficient to capture the eclipse in stunning detail. The Pixel 8 Pro, in particular, excels at this thanks to its powerful AI-powered post-processing capabilities. It allows you to zoom in further without sacrificing quality. Remember, a crisp, detailed image is always better than a blurry, zoomed-in mess.

Use Manual Mode to Get the Best Solar Eclipse Photos

A solar eclipse is a unique event, and your phone’s automatic settings might not always capture it perfectly. For more control over your shots, consider venturing into manual mode.

If you have a Pixel device, open the camera app, then tap the adjustments icon in the bottom right corner. For Samsung Galaxy smartphones, open the camera app, switch to “More” mode, and select “Pro”.

Xiaomi 13 ultra vs 14 ultra

But getting to the manual mode is one thing, and understanding its aspects is another. So, the first thing you need to understand is ISO. It’s a crucial element for capturing solar eclipse. This controls your camera sensor’s sensitivity to light. Higher ISO captures more light in low-light conditions. However, note that it can also introduce graininess.

Next is the shutter speed. This determines how long the camera’s sensor is exposed to light. A slower shutter speed lets in more light. But it requires a very steady hand to avoid blur.

The beauty of manual mode is the real-time preview. As you adjust settings, your phone shows you exactly how the final image will look. Experiment a bit during the day (outside of the eclipse) to get comfortable with these settings. Once you have your solar film, practice aiming it at the sun while adjusting your camera for a high shutter speed and low ISO.

Disclaimer: We may be compensated by some of the companies whose products we talk about, but our articles and reviews are always our honest opinions. For more details, you can check out our editorial guidelines and learn about how we use affiliate links.

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‘The surreal dislocation of the everyday’: how Japanese photographer Akihiko Okamura captured the Troubles as never before

‘The surreal dislocation of the everyday’: how Japanese photographer Akihiko Okamura captured the Troubles as never before

In 2016, the British photographer Martin Parr curated Strange and Familiar, a group show at the Barbican art gallery in London. Subtitled Britain as Revealed by International Photographers, it included work by Henri Cartier-Bresson and Robert Frank as well as lesser known figures such as Edith Tudor-Hart. For me, though, by far the most strange and familiar images I encountered there were made by a Japanese photographer I had never heard of, and whose handful of small, colour prints from the early Troubles stopped me in my tracks.

His name was Akihiko Okamura and I later learned that he had travelled to Ireland in 1968, having already established a reputation as a war photographer in Vietnam. The first thing that took me by surprise was his rich colour palette: the deep reds, faded blues and ochre browns that reanimated a turbulent time for so long portrayed solely in stark monochrome. The second was his style, which tended towards quiet observation rather than frantic reportage. His photographs ranged from telling still lifes of ordinary and not-so-ordinary objects (a police riot shield and helmet resting against a wall) to portraits that resembled film stills (a lone British soldier, tense and primed as if for heroic combat, on a street corner). Okamura photographed newly delivered milk bottles arranged neatly on a sun-dappled doorstep as well as empty milk bottles resting on the window ledge of a Derry tower block, ready to be repurposed as petrol bombs and hurled at the police. His eye was caught by Loyalist youths hanging bunting for the marching season on a dusky sunlit street and young Belfast women picking their way through makeshift barricades, alert for images that undercut the obvious and the cliched.

For me, Okamura’s images were revelatory. They brought back a sense of the peculiar texture of that time living in the north of Ireland: the almost surreal dislocation of the everyday that the early, unpredictable momentum of the Troubles brought in its wake. Suddenly and unsettlingly, normality was ruptured, the ordinary upended and the unspoken rules we lived by rendered redundant.

As a visual record, his understated but profoundly resonant photographs are a dramatic contrast to the work of his more celebrated contemporaries, the likes of Gilles Peress and Don McCullin, who arrived in Northern Ireland soon afterwards and created photojournalism of the most visceral kind. While they operated in the midst of rioting and disorder, Okamura was drawn to the aftermath: flowers on a blood-stained pavement beneath a fluttering black flag; two young girls in their Sunday best, cradling handbags, standing beside an elaborate shrine to one of the first civilians killed by British soldiers on a bleak Derry street. For anyone who lived through that time, these photographs are haunting in their starkness and suggestion. They speak of innocence lost as well as foreshadowing the darker times yet to come.

The photography historian, writer and curator Pauline Vermare, who has researched Okamura’s life and work, emphasises how his pictures differ from the photojournalism of the time. “His photographs diverge greatly from that imagery,” she says. “He worked in Ireland in a style that transcends genres. His faded, soft colours contrast with the violence of the situation in which they were created. The poetry emanating from his work is not typically found in photojournalism, where the subject should be central and obvious. Here, the violence shifts to the background.”

In one striking image, a woman walks purposefully down a street accompanied by a British soldier carrying her front door. Without some knowledge of the social context, the photograph is bemusing, even oddly comic, but it was made in the immediate wake of great violence. The woman has returned to her house after several nights of intense sectarian conflict on the streets of Belfast in August 1969 that left eight people dead, hundreds wounded and caused an estimated 1,800 families to flee their homes. The front door the soldier is holding has been salvaged from her burned-out house.

There is a strange poetry to the image; the silhouette of a bird in flight, etched in stained glass just above the soldier’s head, echoes the woman’s flight from her home. Intriguingly, she reappears in another photograph, standing on a red-brick backstreet next to an older lady, who is holding several patterned teacups. Beside them, a stack of crockery sits on what looks like a much-used washing machine next to a brightly coloured packet of custard powder, the remnants of their shattered lives. The story these humble domestic items tell is writ large in the stark background: the looming silhouettes of charred and sooty terraced houses that are outlined against the pale grey Belfast sky.

Since that sudden and unexpected encounter with his work in 2016, Okamura has remained a figure of fascination to me, albeit an elusive one. Alongside Vermare and the Japanese photo historian Masako Toda, and in tandem with the Photo Museum Ireland, I have helped curate an exhibition of his Irish work, The Memories of Others, which opens in Dublin on 11 April. The event will also coincide with the launch of a photobook and a short film of the same name, directed by Vermare and Marc Lesser. Together they are testament to a singular and mysterious photographer who, following his first visit to Ireland in 1968, returned there the following year and made it his adopted homeland. He lived there quietly with his second wife, Kakuko, and their four children until his death, aged 56, in 1985.

Like other aspects of his restless life, Okamura’s initial reasons for visiting Ireland are mysterious, but they included a deep fascination with the assassinated US president, John F Kennedy, whose ancestral roots were there, as well as his abiding interest in, and identification with, anti-colonialist struggles. Okamura first arrived in Dublin in 1968, aged 38, and immediately noted down his initial and less than favourable impressions: “Stormy weather. The sky was dark, almost black. A swirling wind whipped the freezing rain against my cheeks… To my eyes, accustomed as they were to the scorching sun, and the endless green jungles of south-east Asia, the winter landscape of Ireland when I saw it for the first time looked like nothing but a large cold black lump of soil.”

By then, having taken up photography relatively late, aged 34, Okamura had established a reputation for himself through his fearless reportage from the Vietnam war. In 1965, Life magazine had published a dramatic picture essay by him alongside a detailed account of how he had infiltrated territory controlled by the National Liberation Front of South Vietnam before been captured and held as a prisoner of war for 53 days. During his captivity, he had somehow managed to gain an interview with their second-in-command which, when it was published, led to him being banned from entering South Vietnam for five years.

“After years of covering war atrocities, Ireland was a haven for him,” writes Vermare in her illuminating essay The Strange Passenger on the Belfast Express, which is included in the new photobook. “As he had wanted it, their four children were raised in Ireland, first near Dublin, then Avoca, in Wicklow County. The Okamuras were one of the very few Japanese families that had settled in Ireland at that time.”

Throughout his 16 years in Ireland, Okamura continued to work as a photojournalist, covering conflicts in Biafra and Ethiopia and working regularly for NGOs and other humanitarian organisations. On 8 March 1985, he became ill while travelling from Ireland to Japan and died from sepsis two weeks afterwards. “Okamura’s death came as a huge shock to many in Japan,” Toda notes in her detailed biographical essay The Path to Ireland. “The funeral ceremony held in Aoyama Funeral Hall in Tokyo was packed with mourners.” Soon after, the film-maker Osamu Takahashi paid tribute to Okamura’s “extraordinarily warm character [which] allowed him to dive into battle wherever he wanted and emerge completely unscathed”.

During his time in Ireland, Okamura photographed everyday life in the south of the island – landscapes, market towns, people loitering at train stations, his fellow passengers on the Dublin to Belfast express – but it is his work from the north of Ireland during an uncertain time that resonates most powerfully. The horror he experienced in Vietnam had altered not just his approach, but his consciousness, transforming him into a quiet, but acute, observer of the disrupted everyday at the very beginning of a conflict that would last for 30 years.

In all of this, Okamura himself remains an elusive presence. The new photobook of his Irish work includes an essay by his daughter Kusi pointedly entitled How to Find a Ghost. She begins by recalling his absence from her childhood (he died when she was just nine), before alluding to his “invisible” presence as a photographer of the Troubles – “never seen, never spoken to, never heard”. As if to confirm her fleeting impressions of him, Photo Museum Ireland has been unable to find one person in Derry or Belfast who remembers him from that time, which is odd when you consider he may well have been the first Japanese person that anyone in a then monocultural Northern Ireland would have encountered in the flesh. Yet he moved among them with his camera, leaving no trace other than his photographs.

There exists a single photograph of Okamura from that time. In it, he is standing amid a small crowd of people next to the activist and MP Bernadette Devlin during a lull in the sustained street battles between rioters and police during the Battle of the Bogside in Derry in August 1969. He looks at ease, but engaged, as if taking in her every word. He looks like he belongs there.