Chris Asadian Photography
My weapon of choice: Nikon F4s. My ammunition loaded: 35mm. My war: photography.
One day, my freshman year, my high school history teacher woke me up at my desk and said, "Chris, I need to talk to you after class:" Words you never want to hear as you are wiping slobber off of your lips. But, by that point I didn't care anymore. I didn't care about getting in trouble and failing all my classes. I felt school a waste, and life a stint. I had no resolve. To my surprise, the meeting after school wasn't about my grades, failure to complete work on time, or my inability to reach my full 'potential' as they say. It was something totally different. That's when I received my first camera, given to me by, Ms. Harmon, my history teacher. I never asked for it. I never wondered why she gave me a camera just 'out of the blue.' Whether it be sheer altruism or just a way of living vicariously through me, it just happened. I sometimes joke around about it and call it a miracle. She still jokes around about it and says she made a monster out of me.
When raised with the question: "How do I hope people will react when they observe my photography?" My response is that I don't know, nor do I care. I don't take interest in telling people what to think or how to feel. Nobody likes being told what to do. They can do it for themselves. I just provide the logs. It's their job to chop it, and burn it on the hearth.
Of course, I'm always glad when someone likes a photograph of mine; but something much more important is going on here. When selecting various works for a portfolio, I never deal in pure aesthetics. I try to layout the blueprint for a story. I don't like to just display the general truths of an event, or the subjects' situation in each photograph. It's not what is happening in the picture, it's what is happening in the viewers' hearts. The story I tell with my photography is not one that I've created, but one that you and I have created together.
Everyone always asks me what I like taking pictures of. I usually reply: “the moment.†But, no one understands that answer. We as humans, are always looking for a solid answer: something like “trees, flowers, children, or animals.†“The moment†is too ambiguous to understand. If I told you I’m going out to go photograph the moment you might give me a funny look and ask, “where is that? What is it? The moment is everywhere; anytime. It is that final breath before Nguyen Ngoc Loan pulls the trigger of the revolver pointed at Viet Cong Captain Nguyen Van Lem. It is the flagpole being plunged in the mud by six soldiers atop Mt. Suribachi; the impetuous grimace from the boy carrying a toy grenade. It is serendipity.
In marksmanship they tell you to relax just before squeezing the trigger. When you stop focusing so intently for that brief moment your fingers relax and your hand is steadier, giving you a better shot at your target. I would say the same goes for releasing the shutter on a camera. Except the goal of taking someone’s photo isn’t to take someone’s life, but rather their thoughts and emotions. With words like “capture, take, and shoot†being used to describe producing a photograph, it’s no wonder why some tribes’ people believe that if someone photographs you they steal your soul. There is some sense to this notion as I do feel uncommonly perverse when I aim my camera at a complete stranger. I’ve gotten lectures from parents outside their home to police officers guarding a facility. On several occasions I’ve been interrogated about what I’ll use the pictures for. On several occasions I’ll use them for nothing. Just look at it and tidy it into the bin. When I photograph someone on the street perhaps, and I anticipate that it will make a terrific photo I will get the person’s contact information and try to coerce them into signing a model release form. If I’m not wearing an “official photographer†badge, most of the time, they’ll be terribly perturbed. I find it gravely disconcerting that people see photography not as a tool for art, but a weapon for exploitation.
Since I’ve begun my photographic efforts, I now see the world through a viewfinder; shooting first and asking questions later. Everywhere I go, I am looking for that perfect shot. The one where everything just 'works.' It's a myth, and that's the beauty of it. You can never recreate all the complexities of human nature in one photograph, but I do believe it's a divine act just by coming close. Photography may be the only way for me to transcend myself as a person. It will be the pre-eminent remembrance of whom I was in life. My history teacher may be right. I am a monster. I can live forever.
