alexandra boulat 1962-2007

East Jerusalem 2006

Comments

[Sarah harbutt]

I will remember Alexandra best from our two weeks together at a TPW workshop. She'd say "PUTAN!" about everything difficult, incredible, amazing and wonderful..."Ah, puTAN!". It could be heard at an elegant dinner or a late night smoke around the pool..."Ah, puTAN? eh!"

It was there, watching amazing Autumn sunsets in Tuscany that we spoke about pictures, teaching workshops; about the business of photojournalism, the men; about our being women, daughters, sisters, mothers; about our fathers; the long, hard road it's been to reach our mid-forties and how we were really fucking tired.
Putan.
But that wasn't the last time we spoke. That would be after she met Issa:
"I've fallen in love, Sarah, REALLY. I mean it's amazing, the real thing, you know? I'm really happy, eh?

Thank you, Alex, for all the images of yourself (climbing through the debris in Baghdad, smiling at Jerome in Gaza, sitting beside me in Tuscany), for your shared intimacy, and for all the work you have left behind for us to ponder.

Much Love,
Sarah

[nazreen]

what a beautiful woman.

[Lance Rosenfield]

somehow i just got back to this post.. speechless previously.. after reading tim's poem/story... i just have to belatedly express sadness of her passing, and celebration of her life and work. i never met alex, but i followed her work and she was only 'one degree' away.. close enough to sense her presence and passion. her legacy lives on and she is a blessing to the world of photography and a blessing to all who knew her i'm sure. rest in peace, alex, and thank you.

[Aga Luczakowska]

http://magma.nationalgeographic.com/ngm/0309/feature5/multimedia.html alexandra's dary of the war

[Tim Lambon]

MEMORIES OF "AHLIX"

So we hugged and kissed and promised one another
We’d meet up in some shit-hole soon.
She came out into the chill night to say how much she’d appreciated the number who had turned out, that I’d been able to come.
I touched her hand and we parted –
Forever it would seem….

Never again, that joyous smile, the heavy French accent,
Her laughing dismissal of my struggling with her tongue,
The enquiries of when and who and where.
What’s safe? Shall we go there? Did you know that….?
How long ago is Croatia? In Sarajevo, incarcerated through the winter of ’93.
Huddled together in the dining room, we seemed to eat gruel, yet so much
Better off than the people, the subjects of
Her reportage, always the people. When we cameramen
Were ducking as the sniper fired, trying to get that shot of the smoke puff,
She was shooting the kids sheltering behind the dumpster, the woman
With mud on her face fresh from her husband’s grave,
The old couple in the graveyard of wooden markers.

On the L’Armee de l’Air, already taxiing, its tail ramp closing on Bukavu
Only to inexplicably stop. The ramp winding down. And there she was,
Alex running up, bundling her kit in the back, a momentary.
Pause for that one last persistent passenger.
Clambering over stuff lashed to the floor, she slammed down
Beside me, grabbed my face, kissing me enthusiastically.
An effusive greeting, a celebration we were both still alive
Because the last time I’d seen her was in the horrible
Carnage of Kigali as the massacres wound down;
She shooting the child beside It’s dead mother, the young husband
Carrying his wife’s body away to bury between the banana trees.

It’s breakfast.
In the Mandarin, Jakharta, a five star hotel in the middle of a crisis
I’m filling my plate with smoked fish when
Two hands blind fold my eyes.
“It’s me!”, “Alex!!!” I explode, the fish forgotten.
I Hug her. She’s so proud. Her first National
Geographic assignment – women in Indonesia.
I’m about to fly back into Timor’s hell.

The second Intifada.
Jenin.
Jerome and Alex in the AFP landrover behind me.
We manage to sneak through their iron grip.
She clucks, puckering her lips in that oh, so French way
“So bad these Israelis”. She’s shooting the small boy lying
In the hospital with half a head, a big bandage over his eyes.
From the hospital we’re running. Clambering over rubble
Newly made in Palestine, by Israel.
Hiding in houses, running between blocks, over
A ridiculously high wall to drop 15 feet the other side
Then Alex is talking to a granny. They’ve no food. Their boy’s
Been gone these past 10 days. Granny cries into her blue scarf.
Alex’s eye to the viewfinder. A grim set of her narrow lips
She touches granny’s shoulder as we run on.

in the AFP rabbit hutch in Baghdad’s Information
Ministry. Between packing crate partitions, smoke curls up from
Ashtrayed cigarettes, a tangle of cables,
Computers overheating as they send material out to a
Waiting world. Small groups talking, wondering, asking,
Heads together, anxious, but determined to stay.

She comes to me a couple of evenings before the war,
The American nets have bolted. Other people are leaving,
“Tim…. what do you think? I think we stay, huh?!” she cocks her head
In that way she had, her cigarette between two fingers.
“Bien sur. We’ll be OK. Stick with Jerome. We’ll all be in the
Palestine together…”
“Yes, I’m sure…”
But her eyes were nervous. The strain showing. The toll on everyone,
Ripping relationships apart, confirming some
And cementing others for always.

So memory stretches and contracts across seventeen years
Of meetings and partings. Members of an exclusive, small
Ever changing community of the damned…. damned by our
Own choice to see the very worst of humanity. And yet
Alex always made sure that, where as we went for the
Bang, bang – she put the human face on the page. She cared
For the desperate she framed. She was as transient as any of us
Moving from theatre to theatre, making pictures that mattered.

Until the last time I saw her. I could have bunked it. Too late,
Too far, too much effort in the daily rush of things, I’d rather go home
To sleep, but there was something else; that it was her work, which so many
Times I’d witnessed in the making, being celebrated,
That I’d see Alex again, far from the desperation for once.
I was drawn because I’m off the road – so who knew when I’d see her again?
Our connection wasn’t normal or regular like that.

It took a week for me to find out she’d died.
Five months to even know that she was ill – and by then it was too late.
But that night at the Front Line Club – she’d thought she’d be the foreigner,
An outsider to the the anglophone circle of newsmongers and practitioners, But was overwhelmed by the response of an audience she didn’t know
Cared or even recognised her work. The place was full.
She was thrilled, almost to the point of being unable to speak.
I’m so pleased I made the effort – we dined together afterwards
She insisting I sat beside her, the queen for the night. I was honoured.

Now, I’m at a loss. Although I didn’t speak or write to her frequently,
When we met in some terrible place, some place before it became
Terrible because it would, there would be a moment of deep joy
And then we’d remember or think of each other now and again
Through the weeks and months between, till our next unscheduled meeting.
But now there will be no more meetings.
Alex… I am bereft that I’ll never see you across a bullet riddled street,
In the lobby of a dreadful hotel, in some shitty place.
A bientot Alex....

In Memoriam
Alex Boulat

Tim Lambon
16/10/07

[john trotter]

Hello Harvey,
Man, that is a great picture you posted here of Alex. It will ease the loss of her to know that you possess the kind of image of her that we, as photographers, always hope to bring back from an experience: the kind that distills the essence of another human being and that conjures the feeling of what it was like to inhabit a space, at that moment, with that other person.

Looking at that picture under the circumstances of Alex's burial, which happened just two days ago as I write the words themselves--"Alex's burial"(words so utterly improbable), reminds me again that we need to photograph with intent whenever we bring the machine up between our eyes and the life in front of us. Who knows, when we lower the camera, if it will have been for the very last time?

Paul Bowles famously wrote in The Sheltering Sky:

"... we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that's so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless."

[nelson d'aires]

dear Alexandra,

you are inspiration for many of us here in earth to the future, and your work it's already in the history.
rest in peace alexandra

[Aga Luczakowska]

in some kind she is alive and will always be...

[cathy scholl]

Great link to her work above.
Thanks Bob.

[bobblack]

another:

http://www.viiphoto.com/frame-movie.php?vID=17

[bobblack]

VII has added this additional page to commemorate Alex's work:

http://www.viiphoto.com/Alexandra-Boulat.html

Also, Frank Evers, from VII, has posted the following at Lightstalkers:

"Alexandra’s funeral will be held on Friday the 12th of October in the Church of Jacqueville by the cemetery where her father Pierre is buried and near her family home.

The family would like to announce that a Foundation to continue Alexandra’s and Pierre’s legacy will be established in the coming weeks. The Foundation will support the ideals and issues that Alexandra and Pierre were concerned with. If you would like to contribute to this Foundation please contact: boulat_foundation@viiphoto.com

If you prefer to send flowers please send them to: Cimetière de Jacqueville 77 760 Amponville, France

The Boulat family thanks everyone for their goodwill and compassion which is of great support at this time"

[Maciej Dakowicz]

what a loss... I saw her last time in April at the portfolio review session after the VII seminar in London, she was carefully looking at someone's photos, giving advices. I wish I knew her opinion about my work.
rest in peace, you will be missed

[Mauricio Palos]

descanza en paz alex /rest in peace alex

te recordaremos en mexico / we will remember you in mexico

[Wendy Marijnissen]

Hi David,

I was privelaged to be part of that time in Jerusalem when this picture was taken. That's when I met you, Alex, Gary, Enas, Laura, Tanya and all those other wonderful people, of which some have become close friends for life.
She was the reason why I did the workshop and I never regretted it for a second. She was and always will be an inspiration to me and I will carry her with me in my heart on my future travels and photoprojects.
Like you said the most beautiful thing was that she fell in love with Issa. An amazing man. And together they just were amazing. I heard both of them talk about eachother and this kind of love doesn't come around that often.
I'll keep the most amazing memories of her in my mind and heart. She was a truely amazing and inspirational woman.
I wish you, the family, Issa and all her other friends a lot of strenght with dealing with this sadness.
Wendy

[robert wiedenfeld]

i'm sorry david for your loss...the world lost a very bright light and now i feel dim reading this...just looked at her work and it's evident that she was always fully PRESENT. The fragility of life is daunting.

[david alan harvey]

DEAR ALL...

i so appreciate all of you writing about my dear friend Alexandra....the picture i posted above was the last time i saw her..she and Gary Knight were teaching a Jerusalem workshop and i was photographing Palestinian rappers...we spent a wonderful week together...

the most poignant part of this week together was watching Alexandra fall in love...she and Issa met that week....she was the happiest i had seen her in several years....and she went on to do her most important body of work in Gaza..fueled by her passion for Issa and his culture...

Alexandra left our world doing work she loved and in love with a worthy man...

during her long sleep before passing i can only pray that she knew how much she was truly loved by all of us who knew her...

again, thank you so much for your tributes to a fine fine woman who is an iconic role model for women and men throughout our humble community...

ma'asalaama , david

[Dylan]

As usual, I feel like Bob has laid it down for me and others. I'm so sorry David.

~Dylan

[Eric Espinosa]

David.. It is a sad day! I had never met Alexandra but felt somehow that I knew her....I started to look at Alexandra's work yers ago, following her articles in many french publications like Paris Match or NG. I have been wondering about the life that she was leaving, going into many dangerous places such as Kosovo or Palestine, getting "inside" the Hamas... I watched her, listened to her in several videos on the VII site...She seemed a very humble person who was "enjoying" living this adventurous life. As I know that she was regularly joining the TPW summer workshop, I was considering joining her next year to get to know her and also learn from her. Like I often do, I was checking the VII site last June and had a shock to read that she had this cerebral accident.... Have been wondering since whether she was recovering..... My deepest thoughts are for her family and friends who seem to have had the priviledge to get to know a very special person.... Eric

[Mike Halminski]

I was not familiar with her work, but looked at the VII link. What extraordinary work she did...so very powerful.
My sincere condolences go out to her family, all her friends and loved ones.
Here's another link from PDN.
http://www.pdnonline.com/pdn/newswire/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1003654762

[Jan McGirk]

We also are mourning Alex, a sensitive and intelligent colleague who pushed us to keep searching, keep challenging, keep pushing to show as wide a truth as possible. I worked with her in Gaza; my husband did too, as well as in Afghanistan, Pakistan, and sundry hellholes. She was joyous, nervous, and inutterably French.
We were lucky to have known Alexandra Boulat.

[cathy scholl]

I posted this yesterday morning on Lightstalkers:

I am so so sorry. My condolences to her friends and family.

What I was most impressed with when I met Alexandra at the LA VII seminar was her passion for life. This woman was so full of the lifeforce that it is almost impossible to believe it has been removed from her...Although there is nothing I can say that can make things better it really seemed to me that she really made the most of every minute she had here. I saw her jump up on a table (like Superwoman) and stand on it to talk to some friends she couldn’t reach in a crowded hallway. Enthusiasm, energy, intensity, beauty....she personified all of these qualities.

I have her (and the other members of VII) autographed picture hanging above my desk. She is a great inspiration to me.

[bobblack]

for those unfamiliar with Alex or her work, you can find her here at the agency that she helped to start, VII

http://www.viiphoto.com/

[bobblack]

David

as a photographer and as, above all, a person I want to thank you for posting this beautiful photograph of a strong, and person person. While I did not know or had not met Alex, I was/is/always will be attached to her work, since being told of her by a friend from St. Petersburg who had worked/known/befriended her in Kosovo and continuted to work with her up to this year.

I am sorry i posted under student: i thought, if not the students, who better to know her and understand the loss of such a brave and concerned photographer. I extend my arms to you, as well, as a friend of hers, in support for your grief.

If there is any consolation, and there seldom is enough to gather in the heart which wrenches under such sadness, it must be this: that Alexandra’s photographs were, are and shall remain an inspiration for many of us, in their quiet and poignant and target-right truth. That she shed light upon many of the places in this world which were umbrella’d by darkness is one of the finest testaments and accomplishments that a human being, let alone a photographer, can achieve. She achieved so much that has given so much to so many of us in such a small amount of time.

The world is a less richer place because of her departure but her work will sing to another who will stand right up in her absence, not as replacement but in solidarity as anew.

In truth, this is all we have, each other and the sharing and disappearing of that.

She was/is and always shall be a remarkable photographer and I, more importantly, a brave and humane and love-filled, light-given remarkable human being.

What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov’st well shall not be reft from thee.-E. Pound

May her family and partner arise from their grief within the halo of her extraordinary life.

bob