Few photographers are as controversial as Pieter Hugo. The racial undertones of his work have been discussed at length in many places. But, for the most part, Hugo has let his images stand on their own rather than contributing his own thoughts to the dialogue.

Until now. Guernica art editor Noah Rabinowitz interviewed Hugo recently and it’s one of the first times Hugo has spoken up. Rabinowtiz asks tough questions, and while Hugo doesn’t always answer them in full, the thoughts he does share are very telling. Make sure you give the whole thing a read, and here’s an excerpt specifically about race, criticism and Nollywood:

Guernica: Others may disagree, but in the Nollywood work, I see some comedy.

Pieter Hugo: A lot of people have missed that element of it. It was my Tarantino. I wish more people would see that. But you know what is happening, there’s a lot of reaction to that work. There were particularly strong reactions. One of the Nigerian authors who worked with me on Nollywoodhad threats made against him for collaborating with me on this work. He was called a race traitor. It’s quite scary when academics start dictating to artists that they should be politically correct or follow certain rules of behavior—which means we have to start making dishonest work, which means it becomes didactic and propaganda in nature. I find that very troublesome, very problematic. It’s taken me a long time to figure out why it affected me so deeply. It really upset me. It was never my intention in any way.

Guernica: How is the reaction, if you were to show the image to a Nigerian as opposed to a European or American?

Pieter Hugo: It depends. When you want to look at the Nollywood work and read it as an itinerary of the Nigerian film industry, of course it’s inaccurate. But if you want to read it as, this is a creative person’s interpretation of the phenomena, and has drawn inspiration from the aesthetics of the phenomena, and the audience’s reading of the phenomena, then critique the work on its own merits. Say, “they’re boring photographs where everyone seems to be placed in the middle of the frame.” But of course I’m not an anthropologist. That’s not what my preoccupations are. I found those criticisms debilitating for a really long time. It took me awhile to work through that.

My experience with the vitriolic criticism that has come from that work made me very conscious of how damaging it can be to engage your work on that level and to try to dictate to people what they should or should not do or how they should or should not approach the subject matter. And of course on another level it’s completely condescending, assuming custodianship of other people’s culture. There’s something incredibly patronizing in doing that. In Nigeria you are dealing with the third largest film industry in the world; the majority of the people read newspapers every day. In a way, the critic is more racist and more condescending. The racist word, using racism to critique anyone, unless it’s completely overtly so, is a very dangerous thing to do. It’s not something that should be taken lightly or thrown around without careful consideration.

Guernica: Do you think it is your responsibility as a photographer to provide interpretation of what you see?

Pieter Hugo: As an artist it’s not my responsibility to provide a responsible rendition of how the rest of the world should perceive or not perceive Africa. Firstly, I’m not really concerned with Africa, I just happen to work here and it’s become an extension of my topography and the world that I inhabit. Continually ghettoizing it in that way is also very dangerous, or thinking of things as purely Africa, all you are doing is perpetuating this notion of otherness in some way.

I also write all this as a novelist and story-writer: I am sensitive to the power of narratives. When Jason Russell, narrator of the Kony 2012 video, showed his cheerful blonde toddler a photo of Joseph Kony as the embodiment of evil (a glowering dark man), and of his friend Jacob as the representative of helplessness (a sweet-faced African), I wondered how Russell’s little boy would develop a nuanced sense of the lives of others, particularly others of a different race from his own. How would that little boy come to understand that others have autonomy; that their right to life is not exclusive of a right to self-respect? In a different context, John Berger once wrote, “A singer may be innocent; never the song.”

One song we hear too often is the one in which Africa serves as a backdrop for white fantasies of conquest and heroism. From the colonial project to Out of Africa to The Constant Gardener and Kony 2012, Africa has provided a space onto which white egos can conveniently be projected. It is a liberated space in which the usual rules do not apply: a nobody from America or Europe can go to Africa and become a godlike savior or, at the very least, have his or her emotional needs satisfied. Many have done it under the banner of “making a difference.” To state this obvious and well-attested truth does not make me a racist or a Mau Mau. It does give me away as an “educated middle-class African,” and I plead guilty as charged.

One of the best results of the strange role I’ve played in #kony2012 has been the amazing dialogues I’ve had with other photographers and journalists who’ve worked in Northern Uganda and elsewhere about the importance of nuanced images, deep reporting, and faithful representations. Many of these kind and dedicated folks shared their images and their thoughts with me for a curated gallery for Guernica entitled Northern Uganda, Visible.

The first and most obvious story that this image tells is that these guys are posing to look cool, which in turn makes them look terrible. This is what most people who see the photo think. That’s certainly what I thought when I took the photo back in 2008, and that’s certainly how it’s being used in the media now for the most part.

But, it also does this other thing — it reinforces Jason, Bobby and Laren’s bad-ass-ness, making them look good even while it undermines their authority. It screams, look how cool we are! Check us out on the Sudan-Congo border!  They are awesome dudes who are taking care of business. This appeals to the many young people who want to be bad-asses and pose like Rambo.

Ultimately though, this is a photograph about privilege: they are outsiders, playing solider, involved in a conflict that they can leave and where others are not playing.

And they know that. In fact, they know that so well that they used that photo as the banner image on their page responding to criticism – trying to re-appropriate it and snuffing out its power by making it their own.

A story told by Jason Russell: Let me start by saying that that photo was a bad idea. We were young and we got caught up in the moment. It was never meant to reflect on the organization. The photo of Bobby, Laren and I with the guns was taken in an LRA camp in DRC during the 2008 Juba Peace Talks. We were there to see Joseph Kony come to the table to sign the Final Peace Agreement. The Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) was surrounding our camp for protection since Sudan was mediating the peace talks. We wanted to talk to them and film them and get their perspective. And because Bobby, Laren and I are friends and had been doing this for 5 years, we thought it would be funny to bring back to our friends and family a joke photo. You know, “Haha – they have bazookas in their hands but they’re actually fighting for peace.” The ironic thing about this photo is that I HATE guns. I always have. Back in 2008 I wanted this war to end, like we all did, peacefully, through peace talks. But Kony was not interested in that; he kept killing. And we still don’t want war. We don’t want him killed and we don’t want bombs dropped. We want him alive and captured and brought to justice

But, for all of the people who do feel uncomfortable with Invisible Children’s slick message and questionable overtones, there’s a photograph floating around the Internet that confirms those fears. It makes people doubt IC, despite their best efforts to re-appropriate it, to explain it away.

A friend called it “the photo that is the best visual indictment taking down the Invisible Children.” I hadn’t thought of the image as that until she said it. Many photographers hope that our images can change something, that our images can make people doubt their assumptions and reconsider easy answers.

And I realize now that at least this one has.

Copyright Glenna Gordon

UPDATE, March 13: When I wrote this post last week, I had no idea what the scope of this would be. My thoughts changed significantly as this unfolded, and for more on that, please read this later blog post.

Vice wrote a post with a valid question: “Should I donate money to Invisible Children?” and they used my photo without having requested permission. Had they contacted me, I would have been very hesitant.

I explained to Vice:

While I agree that the point of the article is to raise questions — a practice I support — the photograph, even when making that point, continues to perpetuate misinformation and to mythologize the film makers  as bad asses, a practice I do not support. While the photo can be used to criticize them, there are a whole lot of teenagers in Iowa thinking to themselves right now, “Awesome!”

But, here we are, the photo is up and all over the internetz, and Vice has agreed to add a caption for some context, attribution, etc.

My doubts about this photo persist. I have put up other photographs of white people doing different stuff in Africa before. And, at a different moment in my thinking on these things I did share this photo with Wronging Rights.

Recently, though, I’ve hoped to explore the idea of the privilege outsiders are granted with nuance and a soft touch that leaves room for ambiguity. For more on this, please read my post “On bias, subjectivity, and deeply personal photography.”

This photo doesn’t do that — it just contributes to the stereotypes of kids messing stuff up by showing the worst of the worst and showing it without context. And worse yet, it adds to the Invisible Children bad ass mythology even while attempting to cast doubt on their practices.

So, some context:  Sudan-Congo border, April 2008. We’re all bored out of our minds waiting for endlessly stalled peace talks to resume. Invisible Children dudes have some fun by posing with SPLA soldiers. I uncomfortably photograph them having said amount of fun. Later, I worked with a colleague to try and publish a story about what we saw as their questionable practices, but we couldn’t get a publication to bite. Now, perhaps that’d be different, and at the end of the day, I do hope that all of this can make us look at Invisible Children with a more critical stance.

“It isn’t the first time someone has used my images for a music promo,” Hugo told me when I asked him about Beyoncé’s video. “Nick Cave’s Grinderman project used much more than stylistic reference for his ‘Heathen Child’ video. I can count at least a dozen direct visual copies from my ‘Nollywood’ series in the video. I am a huge fan of Nick Cave, so in that instance it’s flattering. I don’t particularly like the Beyoncé song. It all seems so derivative—the music, the imagery… I’m sure the Hyena Men are wondering if they’re going to get paid!”

Looks like he’s taking things into his own hands — here’s a Spoek Mathembo music video he shot and edited.

SPOEK MATHAMBO – CONTROL from spoek mathambo on Vimeo.

I looked at her website a few times, read a few interviews, and at some point, I stopped feeling like I didn’t like the work and I started feeling like I loved the work, like I never wanted to stop looking at it. That I loved how it prevented me from just clicking to the next web page, the next twitter post, my phone ringing, the traffic outside, the cup of coffee getting cold on my desk. I just stopped, and looked.

This Nando’s advert, which is no longer being broadcast, has already been done the rounds on the internetz but I couldn’t resist reposting it here. My favorite part is Mugabe and Idi Amin doing the Titanic move on a tank. Which scene is your favorite?? Does anyone find this offensive? Or is it just funny?

Thanks to Aaron Leaf, I spent just over four glorious moments this morning watching a video of Jean-Bédel Bokassa‘s coronation. Bokassa, who was the head of the Central African Republic from 1966-1979. The rich visual culture of this video deserves noting — the over the top signs of European monarchy translated to a central African stage, the young prince in his white gloves (don’t miss his epic yawn around the three minute mark),  and the complete lack of anything wider context that might give you a glimpse of Bangui.

And, by far best line in the Wikipedia entry on him: “Although Bokassa was formally crowned in December 1977, his imperial title did not achieve worldwide diplomatic recognition.”

Here are a couple of epic screenshots in case you don’t have time to watch the whole video.

Photo by Finbarr O’Reilly 

In a country that produces music like Baloji’s and and protests like those pictured above by Finbarr O’Reilly (more here), it is unsurprising the issues of representation are contentious.

Yesterday, Congolese voters went to polls amid violence and confusion. For more on the elections, read Congo Siasa or Texas in Africa. The upshot of the election is as of yet unclear, but while Congo is in the news (again) I wanted to take this opportunity to write about Richard Mosse’s continued series of infrared images of DRC.

I first wrote about Mosse’s work last year with reluctant praise. I liked the images, but feared they were a bit gimmicky. However, Mosse’s newest set puts these concerns to rest — he’s committed to exploring a complicated region through a medium fraught with its own limitations.

In an interview on the photoblog Conscientious, Mosse speaks to these issues directly:

Susan Sontag pointed out that photojournalists have long avoided the ethic/aesthetic dilemma by ‘flying low artistically speaking’, using grainy black and white film to appear sober and objective while portraying human suffering. I feel that it’s equally valid to explore the camera’s full aesthetic potential. Naturalism is no greater claim to veracity than other strategies.

I was searching for a new form, or generic hybrid, that would go a step further. While making the work, I was acutely aware of the fact that infrared light is invisible, so I was literally photographing blind. The whole process seemed preposterous. I felt like the protagonist in Gogol’s Dead Souls, quantifying an absence using a meticulous scientific method while engaged in a picaresque trajectory through an impossible land…

At the end of the day, I feel that journalism’s premise is often not simply to inform, but also to affirm our world view. I take issue not with its informing role, but with this affirmation. I believe that it’s imperative to challenge our thinking, particularly in more volatile and loaded landscapes whose narratives are frequently calcified by mass media interests. My work is not intended as a criticism of journalism (which is tremendously important). Rather, it operates within the open field of contemporary art, where the emphasis is not on the answers, but on the questions – not on the facts, but on what they add up to.

While votes are added up, and news briefs and photo reportages accumulate on the internet, it’s good to have Mosse’s work as an additional viewpoint. Neither his work, nor the work of the journalists covering the elections, is as complete without the other.

 For more on representations of Congo, see also:

Pete Muller: beyond hordes of angry men with guns and cows
Of photographs and soldiers in DRC, redux