Even more amazingly, some of the screenings would include a Q&A with Baram & Koudelka.
So I bought tickets for Carla and I. Immediately. Obviously.
Now I am not web illiterate, so I am sure the ICA website was unclear, but somehow I bought tickets for the wrong screening. The one I wanted included a full Q&A, but the one I ended up with only had a ‘possible’ introduction by them. To say I was disappointed would be a huge understatement.
But he was there. In the same room. And he said ‘Hi’ to everyone and ‘thank you for coming’ and ‘I hope you enjoy the film’.
That would have to do.
And, quite frankly, it didn’t matter. The documentary was so incredibly intimate, I felt like I was there. It was wonderful. Inspiring. Touching. Inspiring. Reassuring. Inspiring. Beautiful. And did I say inspiring?
Having had a documentary made about me, you realise how personal it is and how vulnerable you are, exposed behind the lens, opening yourself up to your surroundings. The saying is that photographers hide behind their cameras…I can tell you that a tiny camera is absolutely no protection at all when you are there, exposed to everything…the energies coursing through nature or the hurt, love suffering, joy, anger and pain of the people you are photographing. There is no hiding. It is no surprise to me that I am so exhausted, twitchy, emotional and vulnerable after a day of taking photographs. Throughout the film, continuously, we saw deep into Koudelka’s soul. His narrative and voice over may have been almost stunted and punchy but it contrasted beautifully with the footage of him lost in his own world of creating photographs. The way he would suddenly sheepishly and shyly acknowledge us spoke volumes and was truly heart warming.
My hero was there, in front of me, exposed, naked and I could see into his soul. See his inner workings. And still, he remained my hero, artistically, photographically and morally.
Yes – truly inspiring.
Please visit the film’s website and watch it if you can. It is truly wonderful.