Finding the humanity in a war zone
A common mantra for a generation of war photographers is the famous line of Robert Capa: “If your pictures aren’t good enough, you’re not close enough.”
But how do you measure the visual impact of the war in Ukraine – and your role in documenting it as a photographer – when scores of the planet’s best photojournalists are working along a front that is hundreds of miles long? The challenge of this assignment is compounded by a depth of story that stretches all the way back to home villages and towns, where the war is just as keenly felt, at funerals and in homes.
That means visiting Ukraine not only with the cameras in your hands, but also armed with the empathy necessary to be “close enough” to those who are experiencing the trauma of this war.
As a photojournalist, I begin every journey with both trepidation and confidence. The trepidation comes from the weight of responsibility I feel to reflect accurately the impactful scenes and situations I know I am about to witness. Can I do the story justice? The confidence stems from past experience on many front lines, in many conflicts, and a faith in my skills and ability to measure up to the storytelling task.
My strongest images from this year are reflections of the destruction in Ukraine, but they also tell of resilience, of brotherhood and sisterhood, and of a resolute determination to prevail on the front line. The scale of this war is so vast; our job as photojournalists is to be good enough – and “close enough” – to convey its spectrum of emotions.
