History seen through photo camera lens

The first two photo albums by Oleksandr Klymenko (a regular contributor to The Day’s annual photo exhibit) were dedicated to what can be best described as global topics: “Ukraine: Ten Years of Progress” and “Ukrainian Peacekeeping Contingent: The First Decade.” His third album Through Fire and Tears is a very large-scale and eye-opening project, concerning such sensitive issues as war and peace. It consists of 300 pages of photos. It was published by Pres-kit as part of the Ukrainian Book program by Derzhkomteleradio (State Committee on Radio and Television of Ukraine).

Klymenko was destined to accompany Ukrainian peacekeeping units with his photo cameras for 14 years, in Europe and Africa. He said later, “I first witnessed hostilities in April 1992, in Dubasari, a city in Transnistria, Moldova… Today I think I didn’t understand where I was headed for at the time… I visited Sarajevo in 1994 and received altogether different impressions… nothing like a war game, it was war period.”

His Through Fire and Tears photo album appears to have drawn the line under a series of bloodletting events resulting from various hotbeds at the turn of the 21st century, serving as graphic evidence that Ukrainians were part of the UN blue-helmet peacekeeping force deployed to extinguish such fires in Yugoslavia, Sierra Leone, Lebanon, Kuwait, Liberia, etc.

Klymenko says human suffering inflicted by warfare or ethnic hostilities, anywhere on this planet, be it Africa or the Balkans, is the same: people die, while other people cry, mourning their death. His graphic evidence is absolutely convincing: air-raided buildings, hungry emaciated refugees, blood and tears, and new endless vast cemetery grounds.

Like anyone else who has the courage to investigate global war-and-peace confrontations in any form, Klymenko shows the ugly face of war while suggesting that the viewers ponder this image rather than get lost in the bottomless eyes of horror. “This book is about our planet and how small it is. You can’t hide from a war in Africa anywhere in Europe… Your mother’s milk tastes the same in Kostychany, a village in Chernivtsi oblast of Ukraine, or in Lungi, a town a short ride from Freetown in Sierra Leone,” he writes in his foreword. Incidentally, one finds a similar message in the World Press Photo display at the Lavra Art Gallery. People appear to have been pondering this aspect for ages.

The Day greeted Oleksandr Klymenko with his third photo album and asked him about the new publication and about the dilemmas facing a photographer in time of public unrest and war.

You must have accumulated far more photos over the past 14 years than those included in the photo album. How did you select the photos for the album?

“That was the hardest part of preparing the album for publication. Almost every business trip I went on during those 14 years turned out to be a special experience — what the military calls the final, deadly mission. Every time I tried to take as many photos as I possibly could. Then I spent a whole year working on this album. I started by selecting the photos myself, but then asked my colleague, Artur Bondar, to lend me a hand. You see, I treasured every photo for it meant unforgettable memories and experiences, so I needed a fresh-head professional to help me select the right kind of photos for the album.”

I’m afraid my next question may sound improper, but which is your most treasured photo? Frankly, I was deeply moved by your photo with our servicemen in a church, before flying to Sarajevo. (In his foreword to the album Klymenko wrote: “In Mykolaiv, before boarding our flight to Sarajevo in February 1994, the soldiers went to the local church. Those who hadn’t been baptized asked to be baptized. They prayed for protection. Can you imagine this transformation in people: five minutes back, on the way to the house of God, their commanding officers had been shouting orders at them? And now this. The world seemed to have come to a halt.”)

“These photos illustrate man’s communication with the Lord when facing death. I didn’t plan to take these photos, but I vividly remember their emotions and their spiritual feelings. I found it hard to click my camera in that divine quietude. At four in the morning next day we were flying to Sarajevo.

“I had my worst experiences in Yugoslavia and Sierra Leone. Try to imagine an African setting, with 45°C, with all of us sleeping in tents without air-conditioning, with all imaginable diseases starting with malaria raging around us, and with humans reduced to inhuman living conditions. Then a night flight, and I’m back in Kyiv. It’s March with its weather and calm people on the city streets. A different view, a different way of life. There is a Ukrainian saying: ‘If you have survived a real trouble, you will eat fatback without bread.’ Jokes aside, after such experiences you tend to reassess your realities.”

Press photographers now and then argue about what their colleague should do in time of war, keep taking pictures or help victims.

“I am not a war photographer. I work for the newspaper Holos Ukrainy. I’ve taken many photos and in many places, including our military. In fact, I wanted to photograph our officers and men and this, eventually, turned into a priority. The dilemma you’ve just mentioned is actually a deep-reaching philosophical issue. Of course, when you see someone about to kill another one, and you can prevent this from happening, you just do this. Any photographer would do so. Photographers are as human as the rest of humankind.

“Well, there are several points worth pondering.

“I’m fond of Arturo Perez-Reverte Gutierrez and his two works about war correspondents, El pintor de batallas and Territorio Comanche. The first novel offers a generalized image of a war photographer. The protagonist says that when a war correspondent/photographer starts feeling about the people he photographs, he is finished as a photographer. Time to dump your camera and join UNICEF.

“One other experience. When the communists were unveiling the restored monument to Lenin in Kyiv, some in the crowd hurled cans of paint to stain the proletarian leader’s image. One of them was caught by young communists. They started beating him with their feet. About a dozen cameramen and photographers were shooting the scene, without trying to help the youth, except one photographer who did, even though he had no camera on him.”

You don’t have to go on such dangerous trips, yet you always do. Is this because you see such trips as part of your ultimate mission?

“The reason is much simpler, really. I do so because I find every such experience thrilling. Suppose a photographer is offered several missions, including a flight to Africa or a trip to a farm to take pictures of people harvesting beets. I guess anyone would opt for Africa. By ‘anyone’ I mean good photographers, for there are others who prefer to take pictures of an expensive restaurant wedding party.”

What are your favorite subjects?

“I’m a professional press photographer. I always take pictures of what I consider to be important. No, I don’t take pictures of flowers and insects. I love the Carpathian Mountains. I had an exhibit entitled ‘Wild West’ featuring Africa and the Carpathians, for people are the same everywhere.” (see Den’ No. 192, Oct. 24, 2008).

The Day’S FACTFILE

Oleksandr Klymenko was born in 1960, in Vysoke, a village in Borzna raion, Chernihiv oblast. After serving in the Soviet army, he graduated in 1986 from Kyiv University’s Faculty of Journalism and then worked for the newspaper Silski visti. Since 1991, Klymenko has been a staff press photographer with Holos Ukrainy, while collaborating with Der Spiegel and El Pais.

Says Klymenko: “I am 49 years old and have 25 years of experience as a professional press photographer. I am also a university lecturer and have three photo albums, but I believe that the best photos and books are still ahead.”