The subject matter of documentary photography has infinite possibilities; disasters and poverty are not its only objective, yet one of the most prevalent. While it might not convey the entire story, documentary photographers are able to influence the public and broaden the viewer’s experience by showing unseen aspects of society. Furthermore, photographers share the belief that a photograph can disclose information in the most faithful way. But what is the real effect of these depictions? What is the effect of taking and showing the pictures of war, corpses, torn bodies or any kinds of violence against humanity? From my point of view, documentarians aspire to represent relative truth to the best of their ability and their pictures have managed to affect people’s attitudes. The focus of the essay will be on the influence of agony in photographs. I would like to investigate whether the brutality of war could be diminished for viewers by seeing pictures of war, whether depicting the pain of others is unethical and ineffective. Is it moral for the photographers to take or even to show these so called sorrowful pictures? Isn’t it their duty to record every aspect of our lives? To test this boundary, I will analyze some samples of war pictures taken by documentary photographers such as Christopher Morris, Lana Slezic, Louie Palu and Nina Berman.
The twentieth century was a golden age for photojournalism. Photographers were able to use small portable cameras and more light sensitive films as a result of the technology that was developing rapidly through scientific revolution. Consequently, photographers could approach battlefields to capture impressive shots. Photographically illustrated magazines were in high demand and people were experiencing a novel approach to war through those photos. Ritchin (1988) describes: “ For the reader, the experience of being exposed to such life-like representations of events one had never seen could be intense.”[1] Photography allowed people to experience what was going on beyond their restricted routines such that they eventually learned not only by reading, but also by exploring these photo-essays. Magazines were claiming that they were going to represent the truth about the world. Panzer (2008) writes: “… Capa told the writer John Hersey that a “great picture” could be “cut of the whole event [so that it] will show more of the real truth of the affair to someone who was not there than the whole scene. When Capa rushed pictures of Omaha Beach back to Life's London office, he was bringing “real truth” to an audience that had no other way to see it.”[2] It has gradually become common for newspapers to publish war photographs; earlier it would have been restrained, as it was perceived as too shocking.
Demonstrating how dreadful any war could be is essential and the truth should be shown, otherwise individuals could not do something against this brutality. On the other hand, John Berger believes even though newspapers insisted in publishing convulsive photographs about the war, they were not successful in having a significant effect. Berger (1980) writes: "The possible contradictions of the war photographs now become apparent. It is generally assumed that its purpose is to awaken. The most extreme example– as in most of McCullin’s work– show moments of agony in order to extort the maximum concern. Such moments, whether photographed or not, are discontinuous with all other moments. They exist by themselves. But the reader who has been arrested by the photograph may tend to feel this discontinuity as his own personal moral inadequacy." [3] Berger indicates that although the photographs of agony are twofold violence, the shock of these photographs could not have a long-term effect. Accordingly, the brutality of war will diminish for the viewers of these pictures. But what he didn’t consider was that, if newspapers did not publish these pictures, what would be the reaction of the society? From my point of view, it would be like having a sealed mouth while confronting a catastrophe. James Nachtway explains the reason he has photographed the world’s most terrible tragedies: “I have been a witness, and these pictures are my testimony. The events I have recorded should not be forgotten and must not be repeated.”[4]
The twentieth century was a golden age for photojournalism. Photographers were able to use small portable cameras and more light sensitive films as a result of the technology that was developing rapidly through scientific revolution. Consequently, photographers could approach battlefields to capture impressive shots. Photographically illustrated magazines were in high demand and people were experiencing a novel approach to war through those photos. Ritchin (1988) describes: “ For the reader, the experience of being exposed to such life-like representations of events one had never seen could be intense.”[1] Photography allowed people to experience what was going on beyond their restricted routines such that they eventually learned not only by reading, but also by exploring these photo-essays. Magazines were claiming that they were going to represent the truth about the world. Panzer (2008) writes: “… Capa told the writer John Hersey that a “great picture” could be “cut of the whole event [so that it] will show more of the real truth of the affair to someone who was not there than the whole scene. When Capa rushed pictures of Omaha Beach back to Life's London office, he was bringing “real truth” to an audience that had no other way to see it.”[2] It has gradually become common for newspapers to publish war photographs; earlier it would have been restrained, as it was perceived as too shocking.
Demonstrating how dreadful any war could be is essential and the truth should be shown, otherwise individuals could not do something against this brutality. On the other hand, John Berger believes even though newspapers insisted in publishing convulsive photographs about the war, they were not successful in having a significant effect. Berger (1980) writes: "The possible contradictions of the war photographs now become apparent. It is generally assumed that its purpose is to awaken. The most extreme example– as in most of McCullin’s work– show moments of agony in order to extort the maximum concern. Such moments, whether photographed or not, are discontinuous with all other moments. They exist by themselves. But the reader who has been arrested by the photograph may tend to feel this discontinuity as his own personal moral inadequacy." [3] Berger indicates that although the photographs of agony are twofold violence, the shock of these photographs could not have a long-term effect. Accordingly, the brutality of war will diminish for the viewers of these pictures. But what he didn’t consider was that, if newspapers did not publish these pictures, what would be the reaction of the society? From my point of view, it would be like having a sealed mouth while confronting a catastrophe. James Nachtway explains the reason he has photographed the world’s most terrible tragedies: “I have been a witness, and these pictures are my testimony. The events I have recorded should not be forgotten and must not be repeated.”[4]
Nina Berman’s photo-essay Marine Wedding is a series of stirring photos of a former Marine sergeant Ty Ziegel, as he prepares for his wedding. Ziegel survived a suicide bomb blast in Iraq yet was severely disfigured and his facial features all melted away to the bone. According to Berman’s explanation Ziegel spent nineteen months recovering at Brooke Army Medical Center in Texas. He underwent nineteen rounds of surgery and a face was constructed more or less from scratch with salvaged tissue, holes left where his ears and nose had been. The wedding portraits are heartbreaking and almost beyond description. Ziegel wears his uniform, decorated with combat medals, but we see no sign of pride or glory accompanying it. Ziegel’s face sometimes seems to have a limited range of expressions, yet Berman directs viewers to see the man behind the mask. The bride, Renee Kline, is dressed in a traditional white gown. Kline looks stunned and doleful. (Figure.1)
These pictures make us eager to listen. They speak powerfully, as only pictures can, for themselves. How will history remember Ty Ziegel ’s wedding pictures? The intensity of these pictures is undeniable. However diverse the viewers’ political opinions, the images are a bleak and complicated anti-war statement. The groom's obscure look is a metaphor for the all the ways that war alters people’s life. |
Sontag (2003) writes: “Harrowing photographs do not inevitably lose their power to shock. But they are not much help if the task is to understand. Narratives can make us understand. Photographs do something else: they haunt us.”[5] No wonder the viewer is shocked by looking at Berman’s photos, facing this sad truth is so hard that one may not immediately determine if the wedding is real or not. Although one manages to recover from the initial shock eventually, bitterness of this reality does not fade away easily. Awakening sleeping hearts, shaking up the brain, and encouraging viewers to think about possible problems are what an impressive documentary can do. It would be difficult to remain calm and insensible when viewing one. By seeing these pictures one remembers how deep war terrors can be, and how it can ruin our body and soul.
As an assignment for People Magazine, Berman displayed these pictures in a solo exhibition at Jen Bekman Gallery. While some may argue that these pictures are not suitable for displaying in galleries or museums, I suggest they are, because what art does, through these images, is to teach. One of the functions of museums, art galleries and any other place related to art is to educate their audience. People learn about their heritage, other cultures and our world through both historical collections and contemporary art. Although Sontag acknowledges that there are realities which no picture can fully reveal, Berman’s photo-essay shows the depth of the disaster. Sontag (2003) indicates: “What is the point of exhibiting these pictures? To awaken indignation?… Is looking at such pictures really necessary, given that these horrors lie in a past remote enough to be beyond punishment? Are we better off seeing these images? Do they actually teach us anything? Don’t they rather confirm what we already know (or want to know)?”[6]
As an assignment for People Magazine, Berman displayed these pictures in a solo exhibition at Jen Bekman Gallery. While some may argue that these pictures are not suitable for displaying in galleries or museums, I suggest they are, because what art does, through these images, is to teach. One of the functions of museums, art galleries and any other place related to art is to educate their audience. People learn about their heritage, other cultures and our world through both historical collections and contemporary art. Although Sontag acknowledges that there are realities which no picture can fully reveal, Berman’s photo-essay shows the depth of the disaster. Sontag (2003) indicates: “What is the point of exhibiting these pictures? To awaken indignation?… Is looking at such pictures really necessary, given that these horrors lie in a past remote enough to be beyond punishment? Are we better off seeing these images? Do they actually teach us anything? Don’t they rather confirm what we already know (or want to know)?”[6]
The project on Afghan Women by Lana Slezic is an impressive investigation to capture the truth. In this project, Slezic concentrated on the women of a country at war. While on most occasions, the international media might claim that the liberation of Afghani women and the process of democracy in Afghanistan has been advanced, Slezic claims that in fact little has changed and that Afghani women, specifically in rural areas, are still subject to forced marriages and abuse; many are not allowed to leave their houses without a male companion. Afghani women’s pictures show the tragedy of their wretchedness and oppression. Admittedly these illustrations help viewers to understand their situation.
It can be said that documentarians use their trained eyes to see the hidden messages in our societies. By opening a new window to the world, they show the interwoven layers of life. The series Afghan Women opens an extensive window to illustrate the true life of Afghani women, their misery and pain: the dark actuality of their life. Rosler (2004) indicates: “Most of those who were called documentary photographers a generation ago… made their pictures in the service of a social cause… to show what was wrong with the world, and to persuade their fellows to take action and make it right… New generation of photographers has directed the documentary approach toward more personal ends. Their aim has not been to reform life, but to know it...”[7] |
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This shocking picture of a twenty year-old Afghani woman, Zahra, tells the story of self immolation in Herat province which is a fairly common method of suicide attempt among women (Figure.3).
Slezic (2006) describes: “ Zahra doused herself in cooking oil and lit a match. Her husband was beating her and isolating her from her family. Zahra survived, legally divorced her husband and today lives with her mother. The scarring caused near complete loss of mobility in her neck.” [8] Slezic’s description might help viewers to know the entire story but the picture talks for itself as well: a head sewed to the body. Sometimes reality seems surreal for we cannot believe our eyes, but the power of the documentary can show and demonstrate the nightmare. This is the art, the magic of a documentary. Sontag (2001) writes: “A photograph that brings news of some unsuspected zone of misery cannot make a dent in public opinion unless there is an appropriate context of feeling and attitude.”[9] |
There are still a huge number of landmines which have been left behind from the fighting between the Taliban and Mujahideen in the region. Sabza Gul lost both her legs when she stepped on a landmine in a small village near Bagram (Figure.4). The desire to live and keeping up with daily house chores, even without using artificial legs, demonstrate the integrity of human desires to fight against calamities. Seeing these kinds of pictures moves viewers, as they encourage us to think about how significant it is to confront these disasters.
Christopher Morris depicted a compelling true story, when George W. Bush went jogging with Christian Bagge, an Army Staff Sergeant, who had lost his legs to a roadside bomb attack in Iraq in 2005 (Figure 5). Morris chose to picture two pairs of legs at rest, as seen from the waist down – one individual’s whole and human, entirely natural, the other’s made of bionic steel spring. The picture could be a scientific representation, or a piece of trial evidence, but we are asked to assess the photograph without its subtext: the identity of the two pairs of legs before us. Panzer (2008) notes: “… one cannot help wondering: How did this happen? Who is stronger? Who is luckier? Who will win?”[10]
Christopher Morris depicted a compelling true story, when George W. Bush went jogging with Christian Bagge, an Army Staff Sergeant, who had lost his legs to a roadside bomb attack in Iraq in 2005 (Figure 5). Morris chose to picture two pairs of legs at rest, as seen from the waist down – one individual’s whole and human, entirely natural, the other’s made of bionic steel spring. The picture could be a scientific representation, or a piece of trial evidence, but we are asked to assess the photograph without its subtext: the identity of the two pairs of legs before us. Panzer (2008) notes: “… one cannot help wondering: How did this happen? Who is stronger? Who is luckier? Who will win?”[10]
Louie Palu has witnessed and documented the ongoing conflict in Afghanistan for nearly four years. Working on these kinds of documentary assignments is much harder on the photographer than on those reading their work. Palu (2010) notes: “I wanted to have some balance in my essay, which is a hard thing to find on the front lines when bodies are rolling in past you everyday and you are being shot at constantly.”[11] During the disorder of war, Palu’s images speak a quiet, profound language. The pictures put forward the bitter complexity with a moderate vocabulary that is nonetheless strongly provoking, and emotionally wrenching. His scenes and portraits instead represent larger ideas, not only of the people involved but also of the war itself— complicated, agonizing, acutely human. Palu’s photographs seem to underline the remote nature of war. Sontag (2003) writes: “ [...] photographs of the victims of war are themselves a species of rhetoric. They reiterate. They agitate. They create the illusion of consensus.”[12]
This picture, from the series of Afghanistan: The Fighting Season, taken by Palu, is undeniably a shot for the record to illustrate the brutality of war: the shredded and removed leg of an Afghani civilian security guard after stepping on a landmine planted by rebels (Figure.6). Although seeing this kind of photographs is excessively irritating, its capability of indicating the depiction of war is not comparable with any narration. Sontag (2003) indicates: “Photographs of the suffering and martyrdom of a people are more than reminders of death, of failure, of victimization. They invoke the miracle of survival.”[13] The intelligible justification for recording these pictures is its duty to the discipline of documentation: to be regarded as historical evidence. Although historians, as always, write and archive history, a visual document leaves a very efficient and stirring impression. In fact, because of the unique abilities of the camera, photographers are able to record the truth, make it everlasting, and provide us the opportunity to dig into history, to investigate it, and to learn about the past.
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When it comes to remembering, photographs have a deeper influence than “nonstop imagery” such as television, film or other kinds of media since people can remember the subjects more easily. Sontag (2003) writes: “In an era of information overload, the photograph provides a quick way of apprehending something - and a compact form for memorizing it. The photograph is like a quotation, or a maxim or proverb. Each of us mentally stocks hundreds of photographs, subject to instant recall.”[14] Therefore, it can be said that the photographs of misery have a more intense impact than drawing, painting or writing about it. For instance, the expression of the photograph U.S. Marine (Figure.7) is not comparable to the drawing of a gloomy soldier by Johnson (Figure.8). Sontag seems, on the other hand, to beg as did proponents of photography of her time: “Although there is a sense in which the camera does indeed capture reality, not just interpret it, photographs are as much an interpretation of the world as paintings and drawings are.”[15]
On one hand it is painful to look at these representations as they are not pleasant. On the other hand our curiosity to learn about the event persuades us to explore them entirely. The photographs of misery have a dual modality. Human beings have innumerable range of characteristics and features. Some are inherent, some are formed through experiences and some are developed through wisdom and insight. One of the most fundamental of these human features is that of curiosity. Humans are naturally inquisitive and their curiosity is rooted in their never-ending desire to ask, explore, investigate and learn. As this emotion represents a drive to know new things, curiosity is a major driving force behind scientific research and other disciplines of human study. In fact, in its development as amazement and admiration, it is generally curiosity that makes a person want to become an expert in a field of knowledge. I suggest that individuals are interested in observing visual components, in this case photographs, to investigate the truth according to their curiosity.
To conclude, during the history of photography, the camera gained acceptance as a powerful tool and the photograph became a reliable and accurate visual reporter for almost every purpose. Therefore, documentary photographers were able to influence the public. Even though illustrating tortures and pains of others is neither pleasant nor easy–whether one pictures them or one merely looks upon them–it is essential to record any significant event around the world, in order to make the invisible visible. These pictures are able to influence people’s attitudes and they can become a powerful weapon for social improvement. Thus, even with the narrow possibility of a neutral reaction, publishing these photographs is still imperative.
The nature of man’s curiosity has made him reflect upon higher purposes and discover deeper meanings in things, going beyond what these apparently seem to be. By exploring photo-essays an individual can discover the truth visually. This is why photographs taken from wars, prisoners, torn bodies of so-called misery photographs are inexorably prominent. Even though we merely see what the photographer has presented for us to see and suffering is viewed third hand, this is no less common in other kinds of art such as literature. Sontag is hardly in good faith when she notes: “It is always the image that someone chose; to photograph is to frame, and to frame is to exclude”[16] But this is exactly what a writer does, picking the right words to narrate a story and what we read is actually a framed version of the writer’s original opinions. As one reads tragic writings about unfortunate events happening all around the world and one is undoubtedly affected by them, one could learn from misery photographs as well as one is affected by them. Berman, Morris, Palu and Slezic all use their cameras to demonstrate a challenging topic. Their depictions give us a close shot of the layered brutality of war.
I suggest that revealing the viciousness of any kinds of violence against humanity is extremely important. Depiction of the pain of others can raise social consciousness to react against atrocity. Though I have been critical of Sontag at times, she does rightly say: “Making suffering loom larger, by globalizing it, may spur people to feel they ought to ‘care’ more.”[17] Still, she seems not to run a risk, by continuing: “It also invites them to feel that the sufferings and misfortunes are too vast, to irrevocable, to epic to be much changed by any local political intervention.”[18] The impact of photographs is highly important since it is imprinted on our minds. Here, Sontag writes: “The pictures will not go away.”[19] For this reason, I would maintain that it doesn't matter if we write or we prefer to take pictures, we should be able to talk about the truth as loudly as we can, in the hopes that some will care.
To conclude, during the history of photography, the camera gained acceptance as a powerful tool and the photograph became a reliable and accurate visual reporter for almost every purpose. Therefore, documentary photographers were able to influence the public. Even though illustrating tortures and pains of others is neither pleasant nor easy–whether one pictures them or one merely looks upon them–it is essential to record any significant event around the world, in order to make the invisible visible. These pictures are able to influence people’s attitudes and they can become a powerful weapon for social improvement. Thus, even with the narrow possibility of a neutral reaction, publishing these photographs is still imperative.
The nature of man’s curiosity has made him reflect upon higher purposes and discover deeper meanings in things, going beyond what these apparently seem to be. By exploring photo-essays an individual can discover the truth visually. This is why photographs taken from wars, prisoners, torn bodies of so-called misery photographs are inexorably prominent. Even though we merely see what the photographer has presented for us to see and suffering is viewed third hand, this is no less common in other kinds of art such as literature. Sontag is hardly in good faith when she notes: “It is always the image that someone chose; to photograph is to frame, and to frame is to exclude”[16] But this is exactly what a writer does, picking the right words to narrate a story and what we read is actually a framed version of the writer’s original opinions. As one reads tragic writings about unfortunate events happening all around the world and one is undoubtedly affected by them, one could learn from misery photographs as well as one is affected by them. Berman, Morris, Palu and Slezic all use their cameras to demonstrate a challenging topic. Their depictions give us a close shot of the layered brutality of war.
I suggest that revealing the viciousness of any kinds of violence against humanity is extremely important. Depiction of the pain of others can raise social consciousness to react against atrocity. Though I have been critical of Sontag at times, she does rightly say: “Making suffering loom larger, by globalizing it, may spur people to feel they ought to ‘care’ more.”[17] Still, she seems not to run a risk, by continuing: “It also invites them to feel that the sufferings and misfortunes are too vast, to irrevocable, to epic to be much changed by any local political intervention.”[18] The impact of photographs is highly important since it is imprinted on our minds. Here, Sontag writes: “The pictures will not go away.”[19] For this reason, I would maintain that it doesn't matter if we write or we prefer to take pictures, we should be able to talk about the truth as loudly as we can, in the hopes that some will care.
Footnotes
1. Fred Ritchin, “Close Witness: The Involvement of the Photojournalist” A New History of Photography, Michel Frizot, (Konemann, 1988), 593.
2. Mary Panzer, “Iraq War Veterans.” (Aperture,191, Summer, 2008),76-81.
3. John Berger, “Photographs of Agony.”About Looking, (Pantheon Books, 1980), 39.
4. Mary Panzer,“Iraq War Veterans.” Aperture, 191, Summer, 2008.
5. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 89.
6. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 89.
7. Martha Rosler, “In Around and After Thoughts (On Documentary Photography).” In Decoys and Disruptions:
Selected Writing, 1975-2001. (Cambridge, Massachusetts & London: The MIT Press, 2004), 189.
8. Lana Slezic, " lanaslezic.com.", Last modified 2006, http://www.lanaslezic.com.
9. Susan Sontag, On Photography. (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001), 23.
10. Mary Panzer, “Iraq War Veterans.” Aperture,191, Summer, 2008.
11. Mary Beth, "Seven Questions for Louie Palu." The Virginia Quarterly Review, Last modified 5,24,2010. April 15, 2012, http://www.vqronline.org/
blog/2010/05/24/7-questions-louis-palu/.
12. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 87.
13. Ibid. 87.
14. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 22.
15. Susan Sontag, On Photography. (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001), 6.
16. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 46.
17. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 22.
18. Ibid. 22.
19. Susan Sontag, “Reading the Torture of Others.” In Susan Sontag: At the Same Time, Essays and Speeches. (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007),130.
Bibliography
The MIT Press, 151-206, 2004.
1. Fred Ritchin, “Close Witness: The Involvement of the Photojournalist” A New History of Photography, Michel Frizot, (Konemann, 1988), 593.
2. Mary Panzer, “Iraq War Veterans.” (Aperture,191, Summer, 2008),76-81.
3. John Berger, “Photographs of Agony.”About Looking, (Pantheon Books, 1980), 39.
4. Mary Panzer,“Iraq War Veterans.” Aperture, 191, Summer, 2008.
5. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 89.
6. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 89.
7. Martha Rosler, “In Around and After Thoughts (On Documentary Photography).” In Decoys and Disruptions:
Selected Writing, 1975-2001. (Cambridge, Massachusetts & London: The MIT Press, 2004), 189.
8. Lana Slezic, " lanaslezic.com.", Last modified 2006, http://www.lanaslezic.com.
9. Susan Sontag, On Photography. (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001), 23.
10. Mary Panzer, “Iraq War Veterans.” Aperture,191, Summer, 2008.
11. Mary Beth, "Seven Questions for Louie Palu." The Virginia Quarterly Review, Last modified 5,24,2010. April 15, 2012, http://www.vqronline.org/
blog/2010/05/24/7-questions-louis-palu/.
12. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 87.
13. Ibid. 87.
14. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 22.
15. Susan Sontag, On Photography. (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001), 6.
16. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 46.
17. Susan Sontag, Regarding the Pain of Others, (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003), 22.
18. Ibid. 22.
19. Susan Sontag, “Reading the Torture of Others.” In Susan Sontag: At the Same Time, Essays and Speeches. (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007),130.
Bibliography
- Berger, John. “Photographs of Agony.” About Looking, No.191, Pantheon Books, 1980, 37-40.
- Beth, Mary. "Seven Questions for Louie Palu." The Virginia Quarterly Review, Last
- Newhall, Beaumont. The History of Photography. New York: The Museum of Modern Art,1982.
- Panzer, Mary. “Iraq War Veterans.” Aperture, No.191, Summer, 2008.
- Ritchin, Fred. “Close Witness: The Involvement of the Photojournalist” A New History of
- Rosler, Martha. “In Around and After Thoughts (On Documentary Photography).” In Decoys
The MIT Press, 151-206, 2004.
- Slezic, Lana. " lanaslezic.com.", Last modified 2006, http://www.lanaslezic.com.
- Sontag, Susan. On Photography. New York: New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001.
- Sontag, Susan. Regarding the Pain of Others. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2003.
- Sontag, Susan.“ Reading the Torture of Others.” In Susan Sontag: At the Same Time,