All images copyright Tony Maniaty
JAIPUR: 'THE PINK CITY' IN BLACK AND WHITE
Shooting spontaneously, I tend to favor black-and-white. For years I shot in monochrome Kodak Tri-X, considered de rigueur for street photography with a Leica. Then I switched to a Nikon F system and Ektachrome color film for a decade or so. Now I'm using a Sony Nex-7 digital body with Nikon prime lenses, and an iPhone 6S - fluctuating between both and between colour and monochrome. Covering this year's Jaipur Literary Festival, I used the iPhone in 'noir' mode, capturing the mood and faces of the young Indian crowd. The iPhone is ideal for getting right into the action - without seeming to be anything but another festival-goer...
ATHENS: THE BEAUTIFUL, DIFFICULT CITY
'Wherever I go, Greece hurts me,' wrote the poet George Seferis. I feel this same conflict whenever I return to my father's homeland. It seems Greece can never escape its destiny, of being beautiful and tragic at once. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the capital itself; in the early summer of 2017, Athens conveyed a sense of both falling apart and coming alive. The graffiti everywhere shouted anger at the endless financial crisis, while the streets and cafes were filled with entrepreneurial young Greeks determined to make a fresh start from a decade of despair. Roaming about the city, using only the iPhone, I experienced the same buzz at photographing its many facets and faces as I did on my first visit as a teenager.
'VERTICALS': MONOCHROME PORTRAITS
In 2016, I embarked on a long-term project to photograph friends, family and acquaintances in the creative sphere. I'm shooting in monochrome, vertical format, full body and full frame, as much for insights into the persona of the subjects as for visual impact. Two of my 'sitters' were Americans who settled in Australia - Sydney sculptor Tom Arthur, from the East Coast, whom I first met in 1982, and Adelaide image maker Ed Douglas, from the West Coast, my photography mentor. All these images taken with a Sony Nex-7 body and Nikkor 20mm 3.5 lens, one of my favourite set-ups.
In the Khrushchev era, from the mid-Fifties to early Sixties, Moscow experienced a postwar building boom of standardised workers' apartments, know even today as 'Khruschovka' blocks - rapid reinforced-concrete construction, five stories high, with modules of 20 apartments (four per floor) that could be multiplied to create entire new neighbourhoods. Progressively these Khruschovka blocks are disappearing, replaced by tower blocks 20 or 30 stories high. The stairwell of this block, in the south-western Zyuzino district, had just received a fresh coat of near-luminous green paint when I arrived. The afternoon winter sun coming through the windows did the rest...
THE LAST THING YOU’LL EVER SEE
What might death actually look like? I'm not a particularly spiritual being - like one of my literary heroes, Albert Camus, more of a humanist - but nevertheless I'm often drawn to the notion of death, if not the actual event. (Poor Albert suffered his far too early, in a 1960 car crash with publisher Michel Gallimard.) Last year I spent an idle day in hospital for tests, which turned up nothing of concern, but lying there with an iPhone in hand and endless time to spare, I tried to capture a sense of what those final moments might look like, given that most of us will probably end our lives in a bed. The results were morbid and maybe funny too.
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THESE KINSHIPS STRONG
The remaining marine and timber yards dotted around Sydney Harbour face an uncertain future as property developers move in. The workers talk of fighting back, but their days are numbered. When they go, two centuries of waterfront tradition will go with them, along with their working-class spirit. I took these images on assignment for a Magnum photojournalism workshop I attended in Sydney with veteran Magnum Agency photographer Ian Berry.
THE EMBASSY OF DISAPPEARANCE
In its 20th year, the Sydney Biennale featured an incredible cross-section of contemporary art and design practice. My good friend Ben Strout was the Chief Executive Officer and this, his first Biennale, was a major success. I arrived late afternoon at the Carriageworks venue, termed the Embassy of Disappearance, and played with blinding sunlight pouring into dark spaces.