Focus

FOCUS S t o r i e s & P h o t o gra p h s

Interview with NAN GOLDIN

The AfghAn girl 17 years later

WilliAm DAniels ’ work on Malaria

May 2013Paris N°5

Table of Contents

Around the picture 4Migrant Mother by Dorothea Lange 4Afghan Girl by Steve McCurry 6Sudanese Girl and Vulture by Kevin Carter 8

A story in 10 pictures 10by WilliAm DAniels

Zoom on nAn gOlDin 14 Interview with the artist 16Goldin’s major work 18

Editorial

Here we are! A new month and a new FOCUS Magazine. This month will be a travel in time, space and emo-tions. You won’t be disappointed. From Nan Gol-din who wanted to document what happened in her life, to William Daniels who traveled in the whole world. Once again, photographers from dif-ferent time, backgrounds and with different points of view are meeting through these pages. We just aim to let you discover other worlds and stories. As usual our central points are the PHOTOGRAPHS and their STORy. You have probably already seen the photographs of this edition. But do you know their story? The name of the photographer? What happened before and after? Well don’t wait and go to devour these pages. They are made for you!

ENJOY

Maddy BeautruChief Editor

The winner of our contest: Romane with her picture “Bubble” Send us your favorite photograph and get the chance to appear in our next publication.

[email protected]

4 FOCUS _ May 2013

Around the picture

The image of a worn, weather-beaten woman, a look of desperation on her face, two children leaning on her shoulders, an infant in her lap; has become a photographic icon of the Great Depression in America. The photo was taken in March 1936 at a camp for seasonal agri- cultural workers 175 miles north of Los Angeles by Dorothea Lange.

ange was working for the Farm Se-

curity Administration as part of a team of photographers doc-umenting the impact of federal programs in improving rural conditions. Lange had just completed a month-long photographic assignment

and was driving back home in a wind-driven rain when she came upon a sign for the camp. Some-thing beckoned her to postpone her

journey home and en-ter the camp. She was immediately drawn to the woman and took a series of six shots - the only photos she took that day. The woman

was the mother of seven children and on the brink of starvation. After returning home, Lange alerted the editor of a San Francisco news-

Around the picture

migrant mother by Dorothea lange

L

f/

May 2013 _ FOCUS 5

Around the picturepaper to the plight of the workers at the camp, presenting him with two of her photos. The editor informed federal authorities and published an article that included Lange’s images. As a result, the government rushed a shipment of 20,000 lbs. of food to the camp. The photos’ wider impact included influencing John Steinbeck in the writing of his novel The Grapes of Wrath. ”

“I saw and approached the hungry and des-perate mother, as if drawn by a magnet.”

In 1960, Lange described her ex-perience in an interview with the magazine Popular Photography. The photos that accompany the following account are captioned with Lange’s field notes: “I was on my way and barely saw a crude sign with pointing arrow which flashed by at the side of the road, saying PEA-PICKERS CAMP. But out of the corner of my eye I did see it I didn’t want to stop, and didn’t. I didn’t want to remember that I had seen it, so I drove on and ig-nored the summons. Then, accom-panied by the rhythmic hum of the windshield wipers, arose an inner argument: Dorothea, how about that camp back there? What is the situation back there? Are you go-ing back? Nobody could ask this of you, now could they? To turn back

certainly is not necessary. Haven’t you plenty if negatives already on this subject? Isn’t this just one more if the same? Besides, if you take a camera out in this rain, you’re just asking for trouble. Now be reasona-ble, etc. etc., etc. Having well convinced myself for 20 miles that I could continue on, I did the opposite. Almost without realizing what I was doing I made a U-turn on the empty highway. I went back those 20 miles and turned off the highway at that sign, PEA-PICKERS CAMP. I was following instinct, not reason; I saw and approached the hungry and desperate mother, as if drawn by a magnet. I do not remember how I explained my presence or my camera to her but I do remember she asked me no questions. I made five exposures, working closer and closer from the same direction. I did not ask her name or her history. She told me her age, that she was 32. She said that they had been liv-ing on frozen vegetables from the surrounding fields, and birds that the children killed. She had just sold the tires from her car to buy food. There she sat in that lean-to tent with her children huddled around her, and seemed to know that my pictures might help her, and so she helped me. There was a sort of equality about it. I knew I had recorded the essence of my assign-ment.” Source: http://www.eyewitnesstohistory.

com/

Dorothea Lange was born in Hoboken, New Jersey. She studied pho-tography at Columbia University and worked at a New York portrait stu-dio until 1918 when she began to travel. Strand-ed in San Francisco, she continued doing studio work during the 1920’s. With her husband, the painter Maynard Dixon, she traveled the south-west, photographing Native Americans. She believed that the camera could teach people “how to see without a camera.”

The other photographs taken this day by Lange

Credits Photos: ©Dorothea Lange

6 FOCUS _ May 2013

Around the picture

The portrait by Steve McCurry turned out to be one of those images that sear the heart, and in June 1985 it ran on the cover of this magazine. Her eyes are sea green. They are haunted and haunting, and in them you can read the tragedy of a land drained by war. She became known around Na- tional Geographic as the “Afghan girl,” and for 17 years no one knew her name.

he remembers the moment. The pho-tographer took her

picture. She remembers her anger. The man was a stranger. She had never been photographed be-fore. Until they met again 17 years later, she had not been photographed since. The pho-tographer remembers the moment too. The light was soft. The refugee camp in Pakistan was a sea of tents. Inside the school tent he noticed her first. Sensing her shyness, he ap-proached her last. She told him he could take her picture. “I didn’t think the photograph of the girl would be different from anything else I shot

that day,” he recalls of that morning in 1984 spent documenting the or-deal of Afghanistan’s refugees.

Her name is Sharbat Gula

In January 2002 a team from Nation-al Geographic Television & Film’s EXPLORER brought McCurry

to Pakistan to search for the girl with green eyes. They showed her picture around Nasir Bagh, the still stand-ing refugee camp near Peshawar where the photograph had been made. It took three

days for her to arrive. Her village is a six-hour drive and three-hour hike across a border that swallows lives. When McCurry saw her walk into the room, he thought to himself: This is her. Her name is Sharbat Gula, and she is Pashtun, that most warlike of Afghan tribes. It is said of the Pash-tun that they are only at peace when they are at war, and her eyes—then

Afghan girl by steve mcCurry

S

f/

May 2013 _ FOCUS 7

Around the pictureand now—burn with ferocity. She is 28, perhaps 29, or even 30. No one, not even she, knows for sure. Sto-ries shift like sand in a place where no records exist.Time and hardship have erased her youth. Her skin looks like leather. The geometry of her jaw has sof-tened. The eyes still glare; that has not softened. “She’s had a hard life,” said McCurry. “So many here share her story.” Consider the numbers. Twenty-three years of war, 1.5 mil-lion killed, 3.5 million refugees: This is the story of Afghanistan in the past quarter century. Now, consider this photograph of a young girl with sea green eyes. Her eyes challenge ours. Most of all, they disturb. We cannot turn away.She was a child when her country was caught in the jaws of the Sovi-et invasion. A carpet of destruction smothered countless villages like hers. She was perhaps six when So-viet bombing killed her parents. By day the sky bled terror. At night the dead were buried. And always, the sound of planes, stabbing her with dread.Shepherded by their grandmother, he and his four sisters walked to Pakistan. For a week they moved through mountains covered in snow, begging for blankets to keep warm.The journey that began with the loss of their parents and a trek across mountains by foot ended in a refu-gee camp tent living with strangers.Here is the bare outline of her day. She rises before sunrise and prays. She fetches water from the stream. She cooks, cleans, does laundry. She cares for her children; they are the center of her life. Robina is 13. Za-hida is three. Alia, the baby, is one. A fourth daughter died in infancy. Sharbat has never known a happy

day, her brother says, except per-haps the day of her marriage.Her husband, Rahmat Gul, is slight in build, with a smile like the gleam of a lantern at dusk. She remembers being married at 13. No, he says, she was 16. The match was arranged.Faced by questions, she retreats into the black shawl wrapped around her face, as if by doing so she might will herself to evaporate. The eyes flash anger. It is not her custom to subject herself to the questions of strangers.

“We hid in caves”

Had she ever seen the photograph of herself as a girl? “No.”The reunion between the woman with green eyes and the photogra-pher was quiet. On the subject of married women, cultural tradition is strict. She must not look—and certainly must not smile—at a man who is not her husband. She did not smile at McCurry. Her expression, he said, was flat. She cannot under-stand how her picture has touched so many. She does not know the power of those eyes.Such knife-thin odds. That she would be alive. That she could be found. That she could endure such loss. Surely, in the face of such bitterness the spirit could atrophy. How, she was asked, had she survived?The answer came wrapped in unshakable certitude. “It was,” said Sharbat Gula, “the will of God.”Source; http://ngm.national-

geographic.com/

Born in a suburb of Phil-adelphia, Pennsylvania; McCurry studied film at Pennsylvania State Uni-versity, before going on to work for a local newspa-per. After several years of freelance work, he made his first of what would be-come many trips to India. Traveling with little more than a bag of clothes and another of film, he made his way across the subcon-tinent, exploring the coun-try with his camera

Sharbat Gula 17 years later

Credit Photos: ©Steve Mccurry

8 FOCUS _ May 2013

Around the picture

ithout the facts surround-ing his death, this behav-ior may seem surprising.

But Carter received heaps of crit-icism for his actions. While in Su-dan, near the village of Ayod, Cart-er found a small, emaciated toddler struggling to make her way to the food station. When she stopped to rest, a vulture landed nearby with his eyes on the little girl. Carter took twenty minutes to take the photo, wanting the best shot possible, be-fore chasing the bird away.

The photo was published in The New York Times in March of 1993, and sparked a wide reaction. People wanted to know what happened the child, and if Carter had assisted her. The Times issued a statement say-ing that the girl was able to make it to the food station, but beyond that no one knows what happened to her. Because of this, Carter was bombarded with questions about why he did not help the girl, and only used her to take a photograph. The St. Petersburg Times in Florida

said this of Carter: «The man ad-justing his lens to take just the right frame of her suffering, might just as well be a predator, another vulture on the scene.» However, Carter was working in a time when photojour-nalists were told not to touch fam-ine victims for fear of spreading disease. Carter estimated that there were twenty people per hour dying at the food center. The child was not unique. Regardless, Carter of-ten expressed regret that he had not done anything to help the girl, even

In 1994, South African photojournalist Kevin Carter won the Pulitzer Prize for his disturb-ing photograph of a Sudanese child being stalked by a vulture. That same year, Kevin Carter committed suicide.

sudanese girl and Vulture by Kevin Carter

W

Cre

dit P

hoto

: ©Ke

vin

Car

ter

f/

May 2013 _ FOCUS 9

Around the picturethough there was not much that he could have done, in all actuality.Carter is the tragic example of the toll photographing such suffering can take on a person. Along with his famous photograph, Carter has captured such things as a public necklacing execution in 1980s South Africa, along with the violence of the time, including shootouts and other executions. Carter spoke of his thoughts when he took these photographs: «I had to think visual-ly. I am zooming in on a tight shot of the dead guy and a splash of red. Going into his khaki uniform in a pool of blood in the sand. The dead man’s face is slightly gray. You are making a visual here. But inside something is screaming, ‘My God.’ But it is time to work. Deal with the rest later. If you can’t do it, get out of the game.»

Carter took twenty minutes to take the

photo

Carter’s suicide is not a direct result of the Sudanese child, nor the ac-cusations that he staged the scene, or criticisms that he did not assist her. Carter had spiraled into a de-pression, to which many things were a factor, his vocation as a pho-tojournalist in 1980s Africa defi-nitely a large part of it. Carter and his friends Ken Oosterbroek, Greg Marinovich, and Joao Silva longed to expose the brutality of Apartheid to the world. They captured the vi-olence of South Africa so vividly that a Johannesburg magazine Liv-ing dubbed them «The Bang-Bang Club.» The title stuck.Oosterbroek’s death hit Carter hard, and little things in his life began to fall apart. He was constantly haunt-ed by the atrocities that he had wit-nessed through the years, and final-ly, on July 27, 1994, Carter backed his red Nissan truck against a blue

gum tree, attached a garden hose to the exhaust pipe, and rolled up the window to his car. He turned on his walkman and rested his head against his backpack until he died of carbon monoxide poisoning.Carter has become a symbol in the arts. In music, Manic Street Preach-ers recorded a song about him, with his name as its title. In literature, Mark Z. Danielewski based his char-acter Will Navidson off of Carter, and even described a photograph identical to Carter’s Sudanese child in his novel. In theater, the Junction Avenue Theater Company uses the character of Saul to portray the dif-ficulties of being a photographer in Apartheid South Africa in their play Tooth and Nail.Excerpts from Cater’s suicide note read: «I’m really, really sorry. The pain of life overrides the joy to the point that joy does not exist...de-pressed ... without phone ... money for rent ... money for child support ... money for debts ... money! ... I am haunted by the vivid memories of killings & corpses & anger & pain ... of starving or wounded children, of trigger-happy madmen, often po-lice, of killer executioners... I have gone to join Ken if I am that lucky.»

Source: http://www.fanpop.com

A free-lance photographer for Reuter and Sygma Pho-to NY and former PixEdi-tor of the Mail&Gaurdian, Kevin dedicated his carrer to covering the ongoing conflict in his native South Africa. He was highly hon-oured by the prestigious Ilford Photo Press Awards on several occasions in-cluding News Picture of the Year 1993. When riots began sweeping the black townships in 1984, Carter moved to the Johannes-burg Star and aligned him-self with the white pho-tojournalists who wanted to expose the brutality of apartheid .

The reproduction of the scene, in the movie The Bang Bang CLub; where Kevin Carter is interpretated by the actor Taylor Kitsch

10 FOCUS _ May 2013

A story in 10 pictures

alaria takes its name from the Italian and means literally « bad air ». The disease is pre-ventable and easily curable, but it remains one

of the world’s worst scourges because of lack of means, inaccessibility to health facilities, poverty, and lack of knowledge. It causes over 1 million deaths each year, mostly pregnant women and children under five: every 30 seconds a child dies from malaria. In some countries, the disease accounts for up to 40% of public health expenditure and 50% of hospital admissions. William Daniels spent quite some time on the trail of this pan-demic to document how this global pestilence penetrates the communities’ life in Africa and Asia. In Northern Uganda he photographed the free distribution of mos-quito nets to people displaced by 20 years of war. In the remote villages of Burkina Faso, when the heavy rains

announce the malaria season, he witnessed the initia-tives designed to promote awareness among the poor and illiterate communities who are often totally ignorant as to what malaria is and where it comes from. He then travelled to the border between Burma and Thailand where the malaria parasite colony is considered to be the most resistant. The Karen cross illegally the border to get free treatment in Thailand. In Tanzania he vis-ited a farmer cultivating Artemisia Annua, a plant that provides the most effective treatment against malaria. Finally, he went to Sierra Leone, a country know in colo-nial times as the white man’s grave because of the larger number of colonizers who were struck by the disease. Today, malaria is still the country’s main cause of the mortality with an estimated 100,000 deaths each year.

A story in 10 pictures by WILLIAM DANIeLS

1Mauvais Air

A pregnant woman who has malar-ia in a clinic near Bujumbura

M

Cre

dit P

hoto

s : ©

Will

iam

Dan

iels

f/

Source: http://www.williamdaniels.net/

May 2013 _ FOCUS 11


Mae Sot, on the Thai-Bur-ma border. In this mosquito indested region, the malaria parasite is considered to be the most resistant form in the world

A free pediatric consulta-tion in Namentenga region, Burkina Faso. Malaria is the disease most frequently di-agnosed at such consultations.

Karen people from Burma (Myanmar) illegally crossing the Moei river between Bur-ma and Thailand to bring their sick child to a clinic. Several of them will finally be diagnosed with malaria.

2

3

4

12 FOCUS _ May 2013


A man loading a truck with long-lasting insecti-cide-treated mosquito nets that will be distributed for free in Masindi

In the remote villages of Burki-na Faso, a theatre company ex-plains the importance of using long-lasting insecticide-treat-ed bed nets. Many villagers are ignorant about malaria; most don’t know that malaria is caus-es by mosquitoes and many go to see a traditional witchdoctor to treat it.

25 year old Ginba Chawa is a Karen living in Thailand. Her five children have all contracted malaria at least once and one of them has contracted it four times

5

6

7

May 2013 _ FOCUS 13


Tiangay weeps for her daughter Sao, who has just died. Upon ar-riving at the hospital at Bo with acute malaria, Sao went into convulsions and the stopped breathing. The Medecins Sans Frontières (MSP) physicians were unable to resusci-tate her

A young, unconscious child affected by a severe case of malaria, is under obser-vation in the intensive care unit of the Gondama hos-pital managed by a team from Médecins Sans Fron-tières (MSF)

A Tanzanian farm-er in the region of Arusha cultivating Artemisia Annua,

a plant from which the basic molecule used in artemisinin combination therapy (ACT) medications is extracted. ACT is currently the most effective treatment against malaria.

8

9

10

14 FOCUS _ May 2013

Zoom on

Zoom on NAN GOLDIN

an Goldin thinks of the camera as part of her body, as a veritable eye

that stores impressions and expe-riences. For her, photographs have become a “voice that would not be censored, silenced, or lost, that would not disappear”. She began to take photos when the memory of her older sister, who had com-mitted suicide, began to fade. At the age of 14, she turned from her par-ents and siblings and sought a new community among her friends. She accompanied this steadily growing “family” with her camera in all the circumstances of their lives and occasionally called her work her “visual diary”.

In self portraits she uses the camera “to get under my skin again, to get to know my face and my environ-ment anew”. She shows herself in a seriously bat-tered state, her face swollen and eyes bloodshot, but in her positively de-fiant bright-red, shiny lipstick there is a power of resistance that admits no trace of self-pity in spite of the clear demonstration of outward and inward injury. Many of Goldin’s pictures are photographs from the life of fringe groups. Nan Goldin says she not only belongs to them but she admires them too. She has known violence, taken drugs, lived in the homosexual and transvestite scene and lost friends to AIDS: a

life in the midst of glamour, self-de-struction and death. Goldin photographs only those friends who have given their con-sent. This shows how Goldin re-spects her models’ privacy, even though she invades it pretty thor-oughly too with the pictures’ titles, in which names, place and date are recorded. She encourages her friends to be themselves. Or she gave them the opportunity to discover their iden-tity in role play in front of the cam-era. But Goldin never imposes her own ideas on her models. Thus she avoids bestowing a purely fictitious existence on them. In this she clear-ly marls herself off from the media

N

Nan and Brian in bed, New-York City, 1983Kim in Rhinestones,

Paris, 1991Siobhan in our shower,

NYC, USA, 1991

May 2013 _ FOCUS 15

Zoom on

world, and particularly from adver-tisement photography, but without totally rejecting them. In her photographs Goldin does not just tell the private story of how she and her friends developed from minors to self-confident adults or founds their identity. She tells the dreams of becoming someone dif-ferent, such as a star from the word of the cinema and fashion maga-zines which compete for attention through scenes of sex and violence.Goldin says: “I don’t believe in the single portrait. I believe only in the accumulation of portraits as a rep-resentation of a person. Because I think that people are really com-plex”.

My life is

my work“

Credit Photos: ©Nan GoldinNan and Brian in bed, New-York City, 1983

September 12, 1953: Birth in Washington D.C. United States. She grew up in boston, Massachusetts

April 12, 1965: suicide of her eldest sister, Barbara Holy, 18 years old. Nancy was 12.

Aged 14: she left home

From 1969 to 1972: Student in the Satya Communi-ty School, a free hippie school in Boston.

Aged 18: started to shoot dope and shoot pictures. Nancy became Nan.

1972: first exhibition: B&W pictures of drag queens

1977: end of her studies in the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston

1978: settled in NY and starts shortly after her Ballad of Sexual Dependency

1986: The Ballad of Sexual Dependency : exhibited in the Burden Gallery in NY. One of her early work that caused such a sensation

End 80s beginning 90s: Nan is more and more fa-mous

1988: went on recovery from drugs and alcohol 1991: received a grant from the DAAD (German Aca-demic Service Exchange) and she moves to Berlin for three years.

In 1993 and 1995: invited to take part in the Whit-ney Biennial of the Whitney Museum in New York

Biography

”

16 FOCUS _ May 2013

Zoom on

your approach towards pho-tography is very personal. Is not it a kind of therapy?

Yes, photography saved my life. Every time I go through something scary, traumatic, I survive by taking pictures.

you also help other people to survive. Memory about them does not disappear, because they are on your pictures.

Yes. It is about keeping a record of

the lives I lost, so they cannot be completely obliterated from memo-ry. My work is mostly about mem-ory. It is very important to me that everybody that I have been close to in my life I make photographs of them. The people are gone, like Cookie, who is very important to me, but there is still a series of pictures showing how complex she was. Because these pictures are not about statistics, about showing peo-ple die, but it is all about individual lives. In the case of New York, most creative and freest souls in the city died. New York is not New York anymore. I’ve lost it and I miss it.

They were dying because of AIDS.

your art is basically socially en-gaged...

It is very political. First, it is about gender politics. It is about what it is to be male, what it is to be female, what are gender roles... Especially The Ballad of Sexual Dependency is very much about gender politics, before there was such a word, be-fore they taught it at the university. A friend of mine said I was born with a feminist heart. I decided at the age of five that there was noth-ing my brothers can do and I can-not do. I grew up that way. It was not like an act of decision that I was going to make a piece about gender politics. I made this slideshow about my life, about my past life. Later, I realized how political it was. It is structured this way so it talks about different couples, happy couples. For me, the major meaning of the slideshow is how you can become sexually addicted to somebody and that has absolutely nothing in com-mon with love. It is about violence, about being in a category of men and women. It is constructed so that you see all different roles of wom-en, then of children, the way chil-dren are brought up, and these roles, and then men, then it shows a lot of violence. That kind of violence the men play with. It goes to clubs, bars, it goes to prostitution as one of the options for women - prostitution or marriage. Then it goes back to the social scene, to married and re-mar-ried couples, couples having sex, it ends with twin graves.

you were one of the few pho-tographers who started to take color pictures. How did it hap-pen?

I accidentally used the roll of color film in my camera. I thought it is

These pictures come out of relationships,

not observation“

interview with the artist f/

”

May 2013 _ FOCUS 17

Zoom on black and white, but it was color.

Some critics find connections between you and Arbus. What do you think about such compari-sons?

The daughter of Arbus thinks that there is no connection at all. I think there is some connection, because both of us have an unusual degree of empathy, but it is manifested in a different way. She was a photo-graphic genius and I am not a pho-tographic genius. My genius, if I have any, is in the slideshows, in the narratives. It is not in making per-fect images. It is in the groupings of work. It is in relationships I have with other people.

What is the relation between the diary you write and the pictures you take?

Nothing. My diary is really boring.

Have you not tried to put to-gether both diaries, textual and visual, and do something like Pe-ter Beard?

No. I think these are two different things.

Have you ever published parts of this diary?

No, I would never do this. I am writ-ing it for myself and nobody else. My wish is to burn it immediately after my death. Some of your pictures are blurred. you did it on purpose?

Actually, I take blurred pictures, be-cause I take pictures no matter what the light is. If I want to take a pic-ture, I do not care if there is light or

no light. If I want to take a picture, I take it no matter what. Sometimes I use very low shutter speed and they come out blurred, but it was never an intention like David Armstrong started to do what we call, he and I, “Fuzzy-wuzzy landscapes.” He looked at the back of my pictures and studied them. He started to take pictures like them without people in them. They are just out of focus landscapes. He actually did it, inten-tionally threw the camera out of fo-cus. I have never done it in my life. I take pictures like in here when there is no sun or light that I think all my pictures are going to be out of fo-

cus. Even Valerie and Bruno and whatever I take, because there is not enough light, and so I use a very low shutter speed. It used to be because I was drunk, but now I am not. The drugs influenced all my life. Both good and bad. I heard about an art-ist in Poland, Witkacy, who wrote down on his paintings all the drugs he was on. Depending how many drugs he took, that is how much he charged for the portrait. I saw his portrait at the National Museum, a kind of German expressionism, and I loved it.

Interview by Adam Mazur and Paulina Skirgajllo-Krajewska. 13-02-2013, Warsaw

Cre

dit P

hoto

s: ©

Nan

Gol

din

Sandra in the mirror, New-York City, USA, 1985

Trixie on the cot, NYC, USA, 1979

18 FOCUS _ May 2013

Zoom on

{{

goldin’s major work

In the early 70s, Goldin made friends with the trav-esties. She later collected this pictures from this milieu in her book, The Other Side. It shows a glittering world of extravageant dresses and poses.

Cookie Mueller, who died in 1989 as a result of AIDS, is for Goldin “social light”, “beauty”, “idol”. These are pictures in memory of a woman whose life embodied an era. She had a formative influence on Goldin and her loss was paticularly painful.

Gilles Dusein and Got-scho, were lovers and lived in France in 1992-93. The photographs chronicle many important things, from casual pictures of the caring couple to Got-scho kissing Gilles after he passed away from conse-quences of the AIDS virus.

Transexuals

The Cookie mueller Portfolio

AiDs {

{

{{

Credit Photos: ©Nan Goldin

f/ FOCUS f/

{{

I want to subscrIbeFirst Name . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Last Name . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Adress . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

City . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

EMail . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Subscription to send back to: FOCUS Magazine2, rue de la Liberté

93200 Saint-Denis, France

15€The 5 Numbers

=

only{

Don’t miss it !!

FOCUS S t o r i e s & P h o t o gra p h s

Photography

StoriesADVENTURE

peopleworldf/

Life is full of magical moments

Don’t let them go

Focus

Documents

Transcript of Focus