Archive for dust storm

The Art of Editing

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , on May 31, 2010 by stevemccurry

The Eye of the Beholder

Whether you have hundreds of thousands of pictures in your archive or a few hundred, the process of editing your pictures down to the ones with the best aesthetic, the best composition, and the ones that illustrate your story or experiences best,  is a process that takes time, patience, and experience.

Here are some examples of near frames and the final selects.

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Dust storm, Rajasthan, India, 1983


‘I was in a beat-up taxi travelling through the desert to a town called Jaisalmer. As we drove down the road, we saw a dust storm grow … Where we stopped, women and children worked on the road … In the strange dark orange light and the howling wind, battered by sand and dust, they sang and prayed.

INDIA-10003

Dust storm, Rajasthan, India, 1983

 

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Select

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Select

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Sahdu, India, 2010

Before the Afghan Girl was published on the cover of the National Geographic magazine, there was discussion about whether or not the image was too strong for the cover.  The person who advocated for putting it on the cover saw something others didn’t, and time and perspective proved that it was the picture that best illustrated the article, and also the picture that has stood the test of time.

Dust Storm in the Desert

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on September 4, 2009 by stevemccurry
INDIA-10003

Rajasthan, India 1983

 

I was in a beat-up taxi traveling through the desert to a town called Jaisalmer near the India-Pakistan border. It was in June, and as hot as the planet ever gets. The rains had failed in that part of Rajasthan for thirteen years. I wanted to capture something of the mood of anticipation before the monsoon.

As we drove down the road, we saw a dust storm grow — a typical event before the monsoon breaks. For miles it built into a huge frightening wall of dust, moving across the landscape like a tidal wave, eventually enveloping us like a thick fog. As it arrived, the temperature dropped suddenly and the noise became deafening. Where we stopped, women and children worked on the road — something they are driven to do when the crops fail — now barely able to stand in the fierce wind, clustered together to shield themselves from the sand and dust. I tried to make pictures.

In the strange dark-orange light and howling wind, battered by sand and dust they sang and prayed.  Life and death seemed to hang in a precarious balance.

 

INDIA-10219NF2

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