Nigeria’s Emmanuel Iduma is many things: writer, editor, publisher, critic and photographer. In 2022 he combined these skills to introduce a newsletter, Tender Photo, sent to subscribers twice a week. It has since become an important platform for African photographers, writers, critics and curators. Published on Substack, it has become so widely popular that it was a featured publication on the online newsletter support site.

Iduma is the author of three books: I Am Still With You, a memoir on the Nigerian Civil War; A Stranger’s Pose, a travelogue; and The Sound of Things to Come, a novel. He’s also a recipient of the prestigious Windham-Campbell Prize.

With Tender Photo, Iduma is drawn to the narrative potential of photography and the hidden elements behind it. In the newsletter Iduma chooses a photo and writes briefly about what it calls to mind for him. The featured photographer then writes about why and how they took the photo. Literary culture scholar Tinashe Mushakavanhu asked him about the project.

What was the impulse to start a forum like Tender Photo?

In mid-2021, while at an advanced stage of work on my recent book, I felt I needed to tinker with the form with which I published my writing on photography. For the previous seven years, I had written essays – or stories – that foregrounded my voice as a writer of criticism.

I wondered how else I could show my interest in photography, outside my predilections. The newsletter emerged from the need to free my writing from any unnecessary jargon I had acquired in the years of writing for a targeted, art-world audience. Put simply, it was an attempt to find a new path in my work with photographs. It features the work of early to mid-career photographers on the African continent.

Why was it necessary to generate a conversation between a critic and the photographers?

The necessity I felt was to be a middleman in the exchange between a photographer and the photograph they took. As such, the frame of that correspondence was important. How could I get the photographer to speak freely and without gobbledygook on the image in question? My aim has been to present narratives on photography mainly from the point of view of practitioners of the medium, prefaced by short captions that illustrate the possibility of keen observation.

How did you decide on the format?

At this point – nearing the 60th edition – I have chosen to publish only one photograph per feature. But in the first year of the newsletter, I included two other photographs. The idea at the time was to show all three images I selected from the photographer’s portfolio, pointing to some range in style.

In this second year, I have pared things down further, seeing that the feedback I have received shows that people enjoy the concision in my presentation. My overall aim is to allow people to enjoy the process of looking at a photograph, like repeated strokes of a caress.

You recently introduced guests who write about some of the photos you’ve written about. Why?

There are two main reasons why this expansion was inevitable. First, I knew from the start that by the end of a year I would have a decent number of images that spoke to each other in unexpected ways.

In addition, I wanted to broaden the scope of engagement by bringing in other voices, mainly readers who read the newsletter with an appreciable level of frequency. Thankfully, my instincts have proved right. I am moved by the commentary written by the guests, the depth and acuity, and surprised to note the photographs that have recurred in the selections.

What is the state of art criticism and photographic writing on the continent?

It is difficult for me to speak in any generalising manner about the state of photography criticism, mainly because I am often wary of sweeping, continental assessments. I prefer to work with a sense of urgency on a personal level: that is, what do I feel is required of me, given my training, inclinations, and gifts? In this sense, I am quite interested in broadening conversations on criticism on the continent, producing work for mainstream publications – such as a memoir, literary journal, or newspaper – by paying homage to the work done in academic or theoretical circles.

My hope is that more self-driven initiatives would emerge, diversifying and amplifying the work of photographers and critics, even if they last for a short time.

Is Tender Photo an agenda-setting platform?

My goal is to present photographs by artists born or based on the African continent; the agenda ends there. If I can point to the diversity of the work produced on the continent – geographically and stylistically – I might manage to challenge reductive epistemologies.

Do you mean views that reduce African photography by lumping it together? And often this is from a white gaze. How can our generation deal with this?

I suspect there is a greater number of photographers who identify as African or Black than at any point in the history of photography. Museums in the west are now routinely organising surveys of photography from the continent, with an array of forms and subject matter on display. Both facts can be considered progress. And since every generation must discover its mission, I’m more interested in discerning the tasks that fall to us when there is the growing knowledge of “a black gaze”.

What is the end game for Tender Photo? A book? Exhibition? Archive? Web platform?

All these options you mention are on the table. While I am deeply grateful for the reception the newsletter has gotten, my obligation is to consistency, and to unhurried work. You’ll see.

A wedding photographer trying to line up a photo of a newlywed couple with a plane in the background complained that a “Karen” spoiled his shot by walking into it.

Duminciuc Bogdan shared the video to his TikTok page where it has received a staggering 27 million views.

In the video, an automated voiceover says: “I was trying to get a shot with the couple and the airplane and Karen here decided to ruin our shot.”

Just as the airplane is flying at a very low altitude and about to enter Bogdan’s frame, a woman walking her dog walks into the shot causing Bogdan to shout “No, no, no, no, no.”

It was certainly an inopportune moment for the dogwalker to appear as the airplane was only fleetingly in the photographer’s shot. Afterward, Bogdan can be heard saying to the dogwalker, “Oh c’mon, c’mon.” The happy couple makes light of the situation.

The video was filmed on the Greek island of Corfu and was uploaded to TikTok last year but has recently resurfaced with MSN and The Independent reporting on the incident.

‘She is Literally in a Wedding Dress’

The comments on Bogdan’s video are overwhelmingly sympathetic toward the wedding photographer and videographer.

“I know the dock belongs to everyone but what’s a 10-second wait?” writes one person. “Doesn’t matter if it’s a wedding or just a tourist. You can wait one second for a photo to be taken,” adds another.

However, not everyone condemned the woman. “To be fair she might not have known that you were waiting for the plane, writes one TikToker. “You don’t know, the Karen could’ve been waiting for 10 minutes with no signal from them,” adds Joan Kimberly.

It would have been impossible for the dogwalker not to have seen what was happening in front of her, and the fact the couple are clearly newlyweds makes it all the worse.

While some people in the comments suggest Bogdan uses Photoshop, all photographers know that getting it right in-camera saves time and far more satisfying.

Image credits: Feature photo courtesy of Duminciuc Bogdan .

Corey Arnold is a Portland-based photographer who has made a name for himself as a commercial fisherman and wildlife photographer. His work explores the relationship between humans and the natural world, with a focus on the Alaskan wilderness. Arnold has spent years documenting the world’s fisheries, but his latest project, “Cities Gone Wild”, takes a look at how wild animals adapt and thrive in urban environments. Arnold’s photographs capture the surprising resilience of animals like coyotes, black bears, and raccoons as they navigate the concrete jungle and coexist with humans.

“Cities Gone Wild” offers a fresh perspective on the wildlife that inhabits our cities. Arnold’s photographs reveal a world of coyotes darting past towering skyscrapers, raccoons snacking on scraps in back alleys, and bears casually strolling through residential neighborhoods. In addition to capturing the attention of art lovers and wildlife enthusiasts, the series has also garnered critical acclaim. In fact, the project recently earned Corey Arnold first place in the Wildlife & Nature category at the 2023 Sony World Photography Awards (if you would like to see all the awarded photographs, you can click here to see Bored Panda’s post about it).

More info: Instagram | coreyfishes.com | Facebook | twitter.com