Photographer Alexandra Avakian rides a UN vehicle through Lebanon in 2005. By Hassan Siklawi. If you're looking for a fantastic female role model, you may want to add Alexandra Avakian to your list. At the age of 9, she decided that she wanted to grow up to be a National Geographic photographer. She's now been shooting for the magazine for over 13 years, and has covered some of the more violent and important stories of our time, dodging bullets in Somalia, enduring beatings by Hamas, and getting unprecedented access to Yasser Arafat while accompanying him on his travels. Her new book, Windows of the Soul: My Journeys in the Muslim World, recounts the stories behind her pictures, often in heartwrenching detail. She edited the book while undergoing chemo treatments for breast cancer, and the project, she said, only galvanized her will to survive. Janelle Nanos spoke with Avakian about shooting photos in between gunshots and how she finds her subjects. You can read more about her book and other work on her blog at National Geographic online.
Congratulations on the new book. Looking back, how did you get interested in photography? My father was a director and editor, my stepfather a theatre and film director, and my mother is an actress, so I grew up backstage and on movie sets. My father would sit me behind the camera and show me how the director of photography had set up the shot, how it was composed. He'd teach me how photo essays in Life magazine were made, so I was always attuned to pictures and storytelling.
You can often see that training in your work, as your images often have layers within them. How do you translate that training to the haphazard situations you often find yourself in?
There's a big difference between setting up a shot in a studio and being in reality during unfolding news. But I studied art history too. I think that once you know what excites you in terms of composition and aesthetics, you're going to bring that everywhere with you, no matter where you are.
What aspects of your own life inform your work?
I came from a very strong family of artists, and everyone is a strong personality and works very hard. Also, I have an awareness and organic interest in knowing what's happening in the world and what's happening with people outside of our comfortable realm. There was also the desire to engage and connect with my family history. My family fled the Armenian genocide. Part of them were wiped out by Stalin in the Great Terror. There were many, many other massacres that my family had to deal with living in that region. So when I found out about that, I understood they had been through a lot of pain.
When did you first learn about your family's history? When I was in my late teens - early twenties. Being part of any group - Native American, African American, or Jewish, for example, any group that has survived adversity and injustice - gives you an extra edge of empathy for anyone who is suffering. But at a certain point [after covering political unrest] I got tired of funerals. In 1996 it was really too much. I wanted to explore life and culture more and other aspects of changing societies and countries, and I moved away from tragedy. Now I can go to an edgy country where anything can happen. But at the same time, it's not open warfare. And then other countries that aren't edgy at all, but where the culture is interesting.
How do you choose the places where you go?
I'm never bored. Any assignment that comes my way, or any tiny paragraph in a newspaper that doesn't tell you anything about a tiny country is a story. I look at it an there's so much more. Every place is interesting, every place has stories to tell. When I went to Latvia for Traveler, it was wonderful. I had covered their revolution when I lived in Moscow, and then to be in Latvia when they had been so successful, relatively, both in economic terms and in terms of democracy, it was very joyful to see. I was glad the culture had come back. Under Soviet rule, all the expressions of ethnic culture were oppressed.
What drew you to the subject of Muslim culture?
It's just something that attracted me; each of the Muslim cultures is very different - each has its own beauty and traditions, etiquette and aesthetics. Part of my family is from that region; I felt very comfortable there and still do. After 17 years of working in those regions, I'm still not done. I never am. I'm never satisfied. Photographing the Muslim culture is a path in my work. I've done a lot of different things, but I have always been drawn back.
How has being a woman helped or hurt you while working in those regions? I have found in the Muslim world that I have a really easy time. There are a lot of people that think, 'Oh my goodness it must be so difficult to be a woman,' but it's not. Just don't wear mini-skirts and a skimpy T-shirt, wear respectful clothes. It doesn't mean you have to wear a headscarf. Sometimes you do, if you're going into a mosque perhaps, or if you're in the Islamic Republic of Iran and it's the law in the whole country. But it's not a big deal. What being a woman does in that region, is I think, that it puts the men at ease, and it puts the women at ease. You have access to the women's side and the men's side. It's been extremely rare that I've been denied any access.
In Colin Powell's recent endorsement of Barack Obama, he noted that the rumors of his being a Muslim were not only unfounded, but that they undermined the basic premise of the American ideal. You've covered Muslim culture in America, what do you think about how it is commonly perceived?
9/11 was a horrible shock, but it's not the only shock that we've absorbed in the history of the United States. It happens to be the shock that we're confronted with now. Muslim-Americans are just like every other immigrant group, except that they're possibility a little more politically conservative, believe it or not. Before the war in Iraq they were mostly Republicans and Bush supporters. They have a lot more in common with the Christian right than the secular left. They're hardworking immigrant people.
How have the Muslim people you've photographed responded to your portrayal of them?
On assignment for National Geographic, I went to a million places across the country and I worked in many different ways. One of the ways I worked was just walking in the street. I saw a woman mowing her lawn and she ignored me. She was a strong character and she was actually yelling at her son, 'You bum, you should be mowing this lawn!' I took her picture really fast on my way somewhere else. The light was terrible, but I made the most of it. Then there were leaders in the Muslim community - there are some great professors at Georgetown who hooked me up with Muslim communities throughout the country.
What are some things that people should know about taking photos in Muslim communities? By in large across the world, people love to be photographed... unless you're in Manhattan. I find that people want to share their lives. Sometimes you have to work a little harder to gain access.
You know in the beginning of the history of photography, it was Christians in the Middle East, in particular Armenians, who took the pictures for Muslims, because Muslims weren't allowed to create a graven image. All of my Arab friends laugh that I'm a photographer because it makes all the sense in the world.
You mention in the book that you often wear a hijab while photographing. Do you find that people respond to you differently when you wear one?
I do it as a sign of respect, and I don't want my hair getting in the way of my work. I don't need to make a feminist point; it's not my job nor my desire to change anyone. I just want to work well and respect people and that's how I do it. When I need to, I wear the hijab. I've gotten so used to it it's just normal.
In America, sometimes I'm wearing a hijab when I'm coming from a mosque, people will look at me and treat me as if I were Muslim. It's very interesting to be in a Muslim-American's shoes.
You recently were diagnosed with breast cancer. I wasn't sure of the timeline, but did that knowledge inspire you to put together the book?
The book came about because I wanted to pull this aspect of my work together. Fighting for my life, undergoing chemo treatments while writing and editing this book only galvanized me more. It had been many years since my first trip to the Middle East in 1988. It was like if you dated someone for 17 years and didn't finally marry them, you might always feel like there was something missing.
Top photo by Hassan Siklawi/Collection of the Author. Below photos: Gaza, Iran, and Southern Sudan, by Alexandra Avakian. Bottom, a portrait of Alexandra taken with her camera, collection of the Author.
Subscribe to RSS feed
Subscribe to RSS feed
Leave a comment