Raghu Rai, one of India’s most famous photographers, died in a private hospital in Delhi on Sunday. He was 83 years old. His son, photographer Nitin Rai, said he had been battling cancer for the past two years. This interview is an excerpt from Rohit Chawla’s 2016 interview with Raghu Rai for Open Magazine.
introduction
I meet my God through the camera.
Raghu Rai
for. 1942, Jhang (now in Pakistan) / s. New Delhi/p. Photography
Sometimes coincidences complete a cycle in ways that are difficult to imagine. My love affair with photography began in the early 1980s when I would watch a tall, skinny man sitting on a balcony across the road with a camera, focusing on life on the street below, while I was waiting for my school bus. Curiosity led me up the stairs one morning and discovered the obsessive world of photography of S. Paul who, as I later discovered, was Raghu Rai’s elder brother – but more importantly, his mentor too. Although I did not meet Raghu in person at that time, the magic of his wide-angle lens left an indelible mark across the pages of India Today. In an ironic turn of events, my photographic journey has taken me to India Today as Creative Director thirty years later, following in Raghu’s great footsteps, albeit very cautiously.
In my initial years in advertising at JWT, Raghu’s photojournalism and bold books were the inspiration most Indian photographers needed. Raghu’s ode to Indian classical musicians remains my favorite photographic series to date. Given Raghu’s love of music, he was a common sight at classical concerts, holding the camera, eyes closed, swaying rhythmically, his frail frame obscuring the view of lesser human photographers like me. But it was the launch of his book of portraits to mark fifty years of photography that prompted me to interview him for Open Magazine in 2016. That interview remains relevant and I have shortened it here for my own book on portraits of artists.
Portrait of the artist
Excerpts from that interview:
On organizing the image
Conceptual photographic experimentation is everywhere and digital manipulation is a big part of it. Fine art and abstract photography occurs after years of tapasya and dedication, where you focus on a particular situation that embodies tremendous power, energy and form with as little content as possible. But this current flavor of graffiti, of a beautiful girl’s face cut in half and the combination of shapes and textures, is a farce. I remember the painter Reda saying: “I put red on my canvas, but the red is staring at me. I can’t go any further because my gods haven’t arrived yet.” The photographer must be especially aware that most concepts are created intellectually in his head but must be implemented physically. As a creative individual, you have to make yourself available mentally, physically, spiritually and intuitively for a given situation. You need to channel the higher energy to create that magical image that represents the essential darshan moment from which all art is born. The rest is just shape and texture.
On his bias towards the wide-angle lens
I’m partial to it – even for my photographs which are about people, the individual, but also the atmosphere and surroundings. Most of my work falls between the 24mm to 60mm lens range. India is a country where there are many simultaneous moments in a physical space, and I want to capture them all in my work.
On digital as his preferred medium
Digital technology has freed us from the tyranny of films. Being able to see the image instantly is half the magic. With the help of digital technology, you can play and create an image without taking a photo. But for me, the purpose of photography is still to capture the time we live in, otherwise painters exist, writers exist – anyone can do anything with a subject.
On his “Indian” eye.
At an exchange of ideas in Australia, photojournalist Martin Parr asked me if there was an Indian way of seeing things, and I responded by asking if there was a British way of seeing things. I work in India and am more sensitive to cultural nuances and details. I understand them better and that’s the little extra thing I have as a sensitive photographer. But there is no Indian way of seeing things. You don’t need a taxi to get a good picture. Your photo is good if it speaks for itself.
About his favorite photo subject
Undoubtedly, His Holiness the Dalai Lama. The strength and spiritual energy he exudes is absolutely amazing and extremely attractive. When approaching your subject, you must be neutral because the image should reflect the moment and the person’s experience and energy at any given time. But if you carry your own mental baggage about the topic, that baggage continues to make noise. As a documentary photographer, you need to keep your color palette clean and embrace the moment.
At photography festivals
They tend to be messy and sometimes display sub-par images that are inherently derivative. It’s the fast food style of displaying photographs without any serious thought – the fast food generation married to the digital generation – that has begun to produce substandard work. When you look at these pictures again, there is nothing in them. Unfortunately, we don’t have many committed and sensitive curators writing clearly about photography – and no names come to mind. What is shown and shared creates more confusion in the minds of young photographers who do not know where we should draw the line. A talented and intelligent photographer said to me: “I don’t really know what to do with photography!” The increasing banality reflected in the images selected at these festivals is directly related to clicks that have no economic cost – it is the image making that costs you nothing. Perhaps it is also the insular nature of the photographic community that does not work collaboratively enough. The photography school administration and game curators are in some cases failed photographers. When your personal vision has not matured, how can you hold a mirror up to others? If you do not have cultural continuity and depth, and if you do not have your own breakthrough, are you suitable for teaching and showing photography to others?
On photography as intrusive
Sometimes, using a camera feels like an invasion of personal space. But I remember my friend, the artist Himmat Shah, who said that you have no right to call a small rock a Himalayan unless what you carve from it has a Himalayan experience. If, in a difficult situation, a photo can capture the essence, scale and depth of that experience, being honest, intuitive and on par with what nature holds as your mirror, then the camera has served its purpose.
For what he pays
As soon as I pick up my camera, I am propelled by the ever-changing energy of life and nature. When you invest mentally, physically and spiritually in situations and constantly take pictures, it’s like investing in the bank of life where the returns keep increasing and the energy keeps you going. Wherever I go, my darshan is always through the camera. I meet my God through the camera.
The interview shared above is taken from Rohit Chawla’s upcoming book, Portrait of an Artist.
