Gabriele Micalizzi: From “front line” to “prime time” — Part 1
Interview with the winner of Masters of Photography 2016
On TV and other media we see war images, reportages and crude pictures on a daily basis. But who are the ones behind the camera?
Gabriele Micalizzi, besides being the winner of Masters of Photography 2016, broadcasted on Sky Art Channels, spent most of his professional life ducking bullets, sweating inside a bullet proof jacket and hiding behind rests of destroyed walls, waiting for the right time to stand and shoot the perfect picture.
Since he was 15 he always been doing graffiti, on everything. There was a really solid movement in the 90’s connected to this art. When you paint on a train, then you have to take a picture, because who knows if you will ever see it again. Therefore, the need of photography.
During high school he discovered the dark room, with that soviet submarine mood, in which pure alchemy processes were giving birth to his memories. The institution in which he was attending high school was kind of particular, ISA of Monza, a sort of practical art academy with a lot of laboratories. He was a quite rough kid, and thanks to his teacher Flavio Pressato, he was printing photos instead of staying around making trouble, or following other less interesting classes.
Nearby the dark room there was the library, in which he found many war photographers catalogues. Seeing all those far exotic places, all those extreme and charged-up situations, made him breath and imagine the adventure. Since then, he decided this was his path to follow, and dedicated all his time and energy to find the way to get closer to this world.
After high school diploma he joined New press, Milan based photographic agency. Moped, camera and a strong willing of adventure. Let’s say a young Weegee who spent his days between car crashes, homicides and boring press conferences.
He began travelling around the world, between Australia and Indonesia. Back in Italy, he began collaborating with Magnum, in this lost town in the Emilian countryside. In there, he met other young photographers, and together they gave birth to a collective called Cesura.
From “first line” to “prime time”. Quoting the recently passed away Gene Wylder: “nice hopping”. We know each other since quite some time already, both collaborating in as much “Hardcore” situations as yours, I would say.
Sensitivity isn’t something you can choose yourself, like Jep said in “La Grande Bellezza”. I always been an art enthusiast, interested in painting as well. I always drawn a lot, looking for inspiration in the great masters. Being a spontaneous person, photography always been my media of choice. I grow up in the suburbs, living in public housing, playing soccer in the courtyard. To resume, I was a sensitive kid grown up in a hostile environment. What I am doing now is exactly the development of this thought.
I tell stories of people who live in uncomfortable situations. My first war experience came in 2009 in Afghanistan, where I was with the Italian army, then the French one. I was expecting a sort of “Apocalypse Now” experience, but it was really different. Thanks to this I’ve learned many lessons. I remember my teacher at the time once said: “good job, you went to play with tin soldiers”, sarcastically of course.
My second trip was the most educational for me, in my opinion. It was the red shirt insurrection in Bangkok. That was the first time in which a grenade exploded nearby. An injured guy fell on me, but I had the strength to take the picture anyway. In that moment I realized I was made for those kind of situations. Moreover, in that trip I had the pleasure to work together with James Nactwey. An unforgettable experience.
The great turning point came with the Arab insurrections, where I began to follow this abnormal wave of revolutions in the Middle East. Since then I began to collaborate with magazines from all over the world.
To be an event photographer might come from passion, but to be a war photographer must have implied some serious thoughts behind this decision.
I do not define myself as a war photographer. I’m hungry of non-war related stories. I mainly work in conflict zones, that’s true, but that’s not the reason. Everything began reading those catalogues in the high school library, I was fascinated from those pictures resembling such a faraway reality. I was looking to those faces with strong, real and deep emotions.
Approaching to war is always strange, a mix of emotion with the unknown, the mystery and danger. You build a corrupted vision in your mind thanks to all the movie you have seen. Then, reality is another thing.
Surely the first step is to understand if you are made for it or not, and if you are able to manage your emotions. I’ve been working with many photographers on the war field, but you make your own experience by yourself. You learn how to behave, the logistics, you build your own contacts.
The person who teached me the most is Luc Delhaye. I call him the Clint Eastwood of photojournalism. I had the pleasure to work with him in Libya. He’s one of those that has seen many things in his life, and surely doesn’t get easily impressed. He told me how to understand the sound of shots in their way in and way out, how to find your bearings in the desert looking at kilometers, and how to respect and take care of my gear.
One day we’ve been shot with an RPG and we throw ourselves in the sand. Luckily there was no impact and the microcharge inside the RPG blew off inside of it. I was quite shocked by that event. Then I turn, and I see Luc smoking a cigar like on a beach of Saint Tropez. Those were three intense weeks, there were people shooting at us constantly (because you can never have enough with him), then we were discussing about photography in the evening, in the hotel occupied by rebels. No electricity, pitch black, only the moon reflecting on the sea, smoking cigarettes and drinking lemonade as a substitute of whisky. Anyway, it’s rare to work with someone when you are out there. Unless the situation requires it, it’s always better to stay by yourself.
I’m not a soldier, I’m just a witness of our time.
The camera is the only thing between you and reality. Sometimes is a shield to protect yourself, sometimes is an emotion amplifier. When I look to an intense situation through the lens, all the rest become quiet. All your attention goes in that frame where something is happening, and you break it up piece by piece in your head. Then silence, like time would freeze or slow down. You see different layers of depth, background extrudes from the subjects, a sort of augmented reality per say. Sometimes instead, when you take a photo of something cruel, like in Gaza where I was taking a picture of a pile of dead massacred children, you disconnect, the way you look becomes objective, you decontextualize the scene, it’s just a mass of shapes and colours, without emotions, without judgement. It’s a self-preservation instinct I guess, at least this is what happens to me.
Especially in warzones, you become part of this theater of conflict. You have your role, you are a character of the play with your own script. You can’t do this job forever, you have to quit sooner or later, as it drains your mental and physical energies out. But, as Ettore Mo said: “when you take the train of disgrace, isn’t easy to get out”. Passion has a main role in this, and if you are interested in geopolitics and social dramas, you can’t quit it easily. People that collaborate with you in these areas, from fixers to drivers, becomes friends, you meet their families, and you never forget them.
Must be tough to get used to bullets flying over your helmet.
You’ll never get used to live constantly under bombing, but time helps to get used to many things. After a while, the sound of explosions become familiar to you, and artillery shots becomes part of the environmental sounds that surrounds you. But it gets risky when all this becomes normal, as risk and fear are the only compasses that helps you to not push yourself over too much.
Death is another big character in this play. You see death everywhere, because this is what war is made of. There are many scenes that shocked me, and still I can close my eyes and see them clearly. Some situations glue inside of you and you will never take them away. I’ve seen many dead or mutilated children. Consider I’m a father too, so it’s immediate to empathize. Seeing their families crying and burying them makes you think deeply about how useless conflicts are.
You will never be able to forget war victims.
Standing in front of a mother crying her dead children and snap a picture of here isn’t easy, as is not easy to not feel cynic, but still is the reason why you are there. As much as you are tolerated in such scene of madness, you are the one who needs to report this madness to the world.
Anyway the real challenge, besides being part of those situations and maintain clarity, is when you come back home. When you come back in the so-called reality. It’s here where I feel inappropriate, amess. Where problems and interest of the common people seem to be futile and far from me.
