@ Yahoo News
based in new york city
Kelli Grant portfolio on Visura - a professional network to connect with photo editors and art buyers, and build photography portfolio websites. Visura members, like Kelli, share photojournalism, art photography, landscape, travel photography, portraits and more. Kelli has 0 projects, 5 community news posts, and 0 images shared in the photo stream.
Currently the Photography Director for Yahoo News & Politics , Kelli’s past posts in her 23 years in the industry include, the US Director for PixWays , a photo technology...
On the outskirts of Sinjar, Iraq, the early morning rays against the horizon draw a map of desolation through the devastated streets of the city. A river of destruction escorts the punished arteries of a town razed by war. Abandoned and demolished buildings, empty shops, destroyed schools and decomposed corpses lie as witnesses muzzled by the horror.
In August 2014, the Islamic State group attacked Sinjar Valley and its towns in the province of Nineveh in northern Iraq, and once the city was taken, a legacy of death, kidnapping and slavery was left behind. Selectively, members of the Islamic State group ransacked and vandalized the properties of the Yazidi, and planted and hid in their wake hundreds of explosive devices. The streets have turned into an ocean of rubble, and now the only souls roaming around the deserted streets are the peshmerga.
A path of soil, with the margins covered by a robe of poppies and other wildflowers, leads us to five big mounds of earth now surrounded by a metallic fence. A sign in Arabic warns: “Respect the fence. Victims have the right to rest in peace.” The silence that permeates this improvised cemetery is interrupted by the buzz of mortars, which reverberates just a kilometer from the front lines of the battle against the Islamic State group.
A row of clothes worn by time serves as a makeshift altar for several skulls and bones. Men’s jackets, women’s velvet robes, cigarettes and tiny sandals summon the last breaths of hundreds of lives ended in the name of the Islamic State group delirium. (Read More...)
Kennedy Hill is an aboriginal community that sits on pristine land overlooking the sea in Broome, a resort town on the north coast of Western Australia. Though aboriginal people have lived in Kennedy Hill for generations, the residents are now threatened with displacement as the result of a recent government declaration.
Photojournalist Ingetje Tadros settled in Broome, not far from the Mallingbar community, and, because of a lifelong interest in the fate of indigenous people, became friends with many of those living there. Tadros found people in distress, mistreated by their government, misunderstood by the aid community and largely invisible to Australian society — a voiceless and unseen community. She photographed her neighbors and friends, and her images brought their story, “This Is My Country,” to the world.
Tadros tells the story:
“This Is My Country” is a compelling look at people balanced on the precipice of life who are largely disenfranchised, neglected and often forgotten.
To document Australia’s indigenous people, I traveled to remote regions of Australia’s vast and unforgiving outback and spent time in aboriginal communities. I witnessed a high incidence of alcoholism, domestic violence and general health issues and an alarming frequency of suicide — communities fractured and in distress. I documented sections of communities mismanaged by their governments, not fully understood by the wider aid community and largely left unseen by most of Australian society. A voiceless and unseen minority consigned to lives of quiet desolation.
One day I heard about a young boy who was lost and who suffered from fetal alcohol syndrome. The whole community went out to look for him. They found him two days later in croc-infested country, where he had been attacked by a croc. This story and many others, especially the suicides in these communities, compelled me to start documenting aboriginal people to give them a voice. I feel strongly that the Aboriginal people are not treated with the respect they deserve as the original peoples of this country. When you sit with the people and hear their stories, the depth and beauty of these people becomes obvious. Their connection with the land, their country and with their families are things we all can learn from.
I took photographs that make visible and make heard the plight of the most exposed and vulnerable people in Australian society. I tried to reveal many of the moments that are often underrepresented in the documentation of Australia’s original inhabitants: their approach to community, family, nurturing, spirituality, nature, storytelling and, importantly, healing.
Powerful and pervading, the images, once seen, can’t be ignored and remind us of the power of documentary photography to question, communicate and debate the most pressing social issues facing society today. Most importantly, they remind us not to turn a blind eye to the suffering of our fellow man.
“This Is My Country” will be published by FotoEvidence as a hardcover book with 112 pages, 70 black-and-white photographs and an introduction by aboriginal writer and filmmaker Mitch Torres.
Watch the video on Indiegogo and contribute to the crowdfunding effort to create an enduring document about Australia’s First Peoples’ struggle for justice and to support aboriginal communities as they fight displacement.
IRBIL, Iraq, May 2016 - The 1st Battalion, 46th Infantry Division of the peshmerga army is deployed outside this city, on the approaches to several villages held by the Islamic State. Nine miles away are the outskirts of Mosul, which ISIS has controlled since its troops overran the Iraqi Army there in June 2014.
Capt. Deshat, a veteran peshmerga around 40 years old, commands this little outpost, on a long front that runs through a valley ringed by mountains where the peshmerga, the fighting forces of Iraq’s Kurdistan Regional Government, have stationed their artillery. Just 500 meters separate the Kurdish positions from the nearest outpost of ISIS militants. A soldier scans the horizon with binoculars and points out a black flag on the roof of a low concrete building. According to the peshmerga troops, ISIS fighters are armed with mortars, artillery and rocket launchers, but they mostly keep their heads down as coalition aircraft patrol overhead.
Even so, the peshmerga keep a high alert. Their commanders have warned them of a possible counteroffensive by ISIS fighters who are being pushed back toward Mosul.
Life in this outpost is tedious, a routine of training and marksmanship contests, with breaks for cigarettes and tea. The artillery fire overhead, and from time to time the troops reposition, moving the front a little closer to Mosul.
The nighttime silence is broken by shots, as a sentry spots ISIS troops approaching. Two flares illuminate the landscape, and the soldiers run to their positions. Machine guns rattle, and shouts ring out. After 20 minutes of shooting, the skirmish is over, although shooting continues down the line at other outposts, and tracer bullets draw red lines in the darkness.
The tension remains. The watch has been reinforced, and for the next two hours, sporadic mortar fire falls on the ISIS positions just to remind the enemy: The peshmerga are there, waiting for the order to launch the attack to retake Mosul.
On April 25, 2015 an earthquake of 7.8 magnitude shook Nepal. Almost 9,000 people died, more than 22,000 people suffered injuries and more than half a million houses were destroyed.For months aftershocks rocked the country. People occupied the streets and open spaces in fear. Chaos dominated daily life.
One night, after running all day, photographing, as aftershocks struck repeatedly, I finally fell asleep, hugging my cameras. Someone touched me. I immediately thought they might want to steal my cameras, but I turned to find an old woman, a woman who had lost everything, covering me with her quilt. She said, “We need to take care of you. You are telling the world the situation in our country. At that moment, I began “Endurance.”
At first the world was interested and the media published a river of pictures showing the destruction, but within weeks other stories took the headlines. Nepal vanished little by little from the news while the Nepali people continued their struggle, fighting as they did from day one, to help each other and rebuild out of the devastation. “Endurance” tells their story.
Omar Havana is an award-winning photojournalist, represented by Getty Images, who was living in Kathmandu, Nepal, when the earthquake turned many parts of the country to rubble. His work from the immediate aftermath of the earthquake was published more than 1,000 times around the world. He followed the story long after media interest waned, taking trips around the country to document both the destruction and the recovery as a testimony to the endurance of the Nepali people.
Havana and FotoEvidence are collaborating on a book of Havana’s photographs, “Endurance,” with a foreword by film director Bernardo Bertolucci. The book, which is currently seeking funds via Kickstarter, focuses on the remarkable spirit with which the Nepali people responded to this devastating natural disaster.
On April 9, 2016 Nash Street, the main street of Wilson, North Carolina will be transformed again into a vibrant gallery of large-scale photographs. One hundred prominent and emerging photographers from more than 30 countries will join forces to help revitalize Historic Downtown Wilson. The exhibition, curated by Jerome De Perlinghi and co-curated by Catherine Lloyd and Régina Monfort, will focus on the theme of "Main Street, a Crossroad of Cultures" as interpreted by the individual photographers. "Photographers do not need words as they write with light,” states De Perlinghi who also serves as the artistic director of the Festival.
The goal is to help revitalize Historic Downtown Wilson while cultivating cross-cultural understanding through powerful photography. “The photographs taken in 48 countries, not only celebrate our shared humanity, they illuminate our capacity and resilience to survive against all odds,” says co-curator Régina Monfort.
Main streets stand for our shared humanity, memories of a time that once was and the beating heart of our communities. The festival organizers are proud to present an equal number of men and women photographers. One hundred images will be displayed on storefront windows, spanning six city blocks. This year’s edition includes a number of award-winning photojournalists from around the world, among them, Fatemeh Behboudi, Pascal Maitre, Susan Meiselas, Alexey Myakishev and Eugene Richards.