Between Gaza and Naples. A Childhood Story by Mahmoud Abu Al-Qaraya and Tylerdurdan is born from the encounter of two free voices coming from distant worlds, yet united by the same urgency to bear witness. On one side, Mahmoud Abu Al-Qaraya, a 29-year-old photographer from Gaza, who after years of hard work and recognition saw his career and his life shattered by war: his family displaced four times, the loss of his camera — his only working tool — and a daily struggle against hunger, disease, and constant bombardment. On the other side, Raffaele Annunziata, a Neapolitan photographer and artist known as tylerdurdan*, who for over a decade has combined music, images, and words as a form of cultural resistance, with the aim of denouncing injustice and restoring centrality to what makes us human. Together, they have chosen to tell — through parallel photographs — the everyday life of two little girls, one in Naples and the other in Gaza.
Soso – Gaza, 2025
Between Naples and Gaza. A Childhood Story Two distant cities, one childhood to defend.
Dede – Naples, 2025
Scenes that appear simple elsewhere (playing, going to school, having breakfast) become almost impossible under siege. Between Naples and Gaza. A Childhood Story is not only a photographic project, but a narrative and ethical bridge: to give voice to those at risk of being silenced, reminding the world that childhood is a universal right. The project also supports the campaign “Mahmoud Loves Photography, Family & Life ”, a concrete appeal to help Mahmoud and his family rebuild their life and his work as a photographer.
Wake up in NaplesWake up in Gaza
On the way to school in NaplesOn the way to school in Gaza
Between Gaza and Naples. A Childhood Story is a project bringing together two perspectives: Raffaele Annunziata (tylerdurdan), an artist from Naples, and Mahmoud Abu Al-Qaraya, a photographer from Gaza. Through parallel images, we tell childhood in two distant worlds, to remind the world that childhood is a universal right.
Soso and her friend, barefoot, play by gently touching each other and laughing. For a moment, there is nothing but joy. Dede runs and laughs with her friends, her world filled only with games and joy.
Mahmoud Abu Al-Qaraya Together, they have chosen to tell — through parallel photographs — the everyday life of two little girls, one in Naples and the other in Gaza. Scenes that appear simple elsewhere (playing, going to school, sleeping) become almost impossible under siege. Between Naples and Gaza. A Childhood Story is not only a photographic project, but a narrative and ethical bridge: to give voice to those at risk of being silenced, reminding the world that childhood is a universal right.
Mahmoud Abu Al-Qaraya is a 29-year-old photographer and online trader from Gaza, whose life has been marked by passion, tragedy, and resilience. Before the aggression of October 7, 2023, Mahmoud was building a promising career: photography and Amazon trading were not only his livelihood but also his way of capturing the beauty of his city and telling the story of his people. Since the beginning of the war, his family has been displaced four times; he lost his home, his camera — the starting point of his entire work — and all of his savings were consumed. Many of his friends and relatives have been killed or remain missing. Mahmoud himself was ill, and airstrikes — but he holds on to his dignity, his art, and his voice. He was abducted and tortured for two weeks, an experience that left deep scars. Despite all this, he keeps on fighting: every day he faces hunger, thirst. His mission is clear: to use photography not just to witness pain, but to carry hope — so the world can see, remember, and act. Through Between Naples and Gaza. A Childhood Story, Mahmoud aims to share both his story and that of those who, like him, live under the weight of conflict but continue to resist with humanity.
Raffaele Annunziata is a Digital Media Strategist, author, and speaker, and the founder of Seed Media Agency, established in 2012. He holds degrees in Cultural Heritage Management and Cinema, Television and Multimedia Production, combining his artistic background with over 20 years of experience in digital communication. At Seed Media Agency, he has designed storytelling strategies that merge creativity, ethics, and digital innovation for clients across multiple industries. A passionate urban photographer, he documents reality through the lens of a Fujifilm X‑T5, crafting an authentic visual narrative. With the project ‘ Raffele Annunziata (tylerdurdan), he brings together his technological and visual expertise with music and poetry, becoming the unmistakable voice of a human author in the age of AI. With his media account tylerdurdan, he weaves photography, writing, and generative AI music into a single narrative, convinced that every artistic act is a political one — a gesture of resistance in defence of minorities and, above al, of the Palestinian cause.
Photography setting fire to childhood trauma – Open Eye Gallery to host first photography exhibition about fire setting
Firehawks Open Eye Gallery – Liverpool Exhibition: 26 Sep 2025 – 16 Nov 2025 Media Preview: 25 September, between 12:30 – 4pm
The Photojournalism Hub is proud to feature‘Firehawks’, an important forthcoming exhibition at Open Eye Gallery, Liverpool. For the first time, the subject of firesetting is to be explored in a gallery space, as part of an exhibition by photographer Stephen King. Opening in Liverpool on 26 September until 16 November 2025, the ‘Firehawks’ exhibition at Open Eye Gallery, one of the UK’s leading photography galleries, follows a long-term project led by Stephen King to uncover real-life experiences of children involved in firesetting behaviour.
Rarely spoken about, the term ‘firesetting behaviour’ is not widely known or understood. In England, tens of thousands of deliberate fires are recorded each year. Often regarded as arson or acts of vandalism, many are started by children. ‘Firehawks’ seeks to raise awareness of fire setting through a visual demonstration of why individuals are drawn to this element as a silent language of survival, often due to a traumatic experience or environment that is challenging to speak about. It will also shine a light on the people and services who help to understand and overcome the complexities that can be indicated by firesetting behaviour. Featuring 20 images, displayed in a narrative of three phases; destruction, communication and renewal; ‘Firehawks’ is the culmination of years of work for Stephen, who himself has lived experience of firesetting as a child. After collaborating with London Fire Brigade Firesetting Intervention Scheme, Northumberland Fire and Rescue Service and Merseyside Fire and Rescue Service as well as numerous conversations and workshops with individuals with lived experience, he has developed an exhibition of work borne out of his innate ability to listen and respond to people’s experiences and sensitively transpose their accounts into visual, metaphorical depictions.
“This exhibition is the result of several years of work, but ultimately a lifetime of trying to understand and heal from my own experiences of firesetting as a young person. I’ve worked with so many people associated with firesetting – young people who have set fires, adults who used to and those who work to understand, intervene and care for them. Their ability to talk, share and allow me to portray their experiences through my photography, has been very humbling.The visual language of photography can break barriers and destigmatise what is an incredibly sensitive subject, and the culmination of this project will hopefully bring a positive platform to those who are working through their trauma, who have overcome it, and show audiences that the work of frontline services is much more beyond ‘putting out fires’.” – Stephen King
Beginning as an Arts Council-funded research project in 2021, Stephen and the exhibition’s producer Angharad Williams, have worked closely with Open Eye Gallery’s social practice team and leading specialist in the field of child firesetting behaviour, Joanna Foster, to develop a larger scale project, looking at firesetting, its triggers, impacts and personal stories. Joanna, who is author of the book ‘Children and Teenagers Who Set Fires: Why they do it and how to help’ said:
“The significant maltreatment in the formative years of many children and teenagers who set fires is well evidenced. Such relational and attachment trauma can lead to complex survival responses and often crippling coping mechanisms, which can include acting out in the form of setting fires. These fires can help regulate intense and overwhelming emotions, draw attention to an otherwise invisible child, or give voice to words and feelings that are too difficult to speak.” – Joanna Foster
The photographic series shown in the exhibition does not seek to diagnose or define. Instead, it invites the viewer to sit within the tension of the fire, connecting with the issue of firesetting through images of anonymised people and situations, portrayed with a filmic and dreamlike quality. A black dog walks among scorched trees, carrying stories in its teeth; dolls burn on a mattress floating on reflective water; a fire service training dummy supports a young boy on the edge of a precipice; new life starts to grow in a community orchard – a site which holds firesetting memories for the photographer himself. Stephen continues:
“The images don’t depict fairy tales, though they borrow their familiar shapes. I wanted to be sure that fire was ever present in the exhibition, encapsulating the flickering, crackle, and smoulder of the element at the core of the stories. In circumstances of firesetting, flames become a language, a companion, a compulsion, a release. The work gathers fragments; stories from children, adults talking of their younger selves, voices from those who work in fire and rescue services, memories that smoulder long after the event. It is not a study, but a visual reckoning — born from experience, shaped by dialogue, held in a shared, collective space. I hope it makes those who have been through trauma feel less alone and less stigmatised.”
“It is so exciting to see the ‘Firehawks’ project become a reality this year within our galleries, as we’ve been discussing the project with Stephen for more than five years. Like most good, socially engaged projects, however, this shouldn’t seem a surprise, as working collaboratively with communities to shape and visualise stories which are important to them takes time. ” – Elizabeth Wewiora, head of social practice at Open Eye Gallery said. And ‘Firehawks’ is a very particular story, which needs to be explored with care and sensitivity; something we hold real value in at Open Eye Gallery.
“Stephen’s approach considers the anonymity of all involved whilst still opening up a visual conversation for our audiences as it explores why people can be drawn to fire during traumatic experiences in their lives, and moreover how wider society and our frontline services respond and deal with this. Stephen’s photographic work leans into the metaphorical and surreal which is also a welcome alternative approach to socially engaged photographic imagery, which can tend to sit more within a documentary style. We can’t wait to see the work come together in the gallery this September.” – Elizabeth Wewiora
The root of the exhibition’s title links to the phenomenon of the Firehawk, an Australian bird which has been observed creating bushfires by carrying burning sticks to new locations, deliberately spreading fire to flush prey from the undergrowth. The Firehawk bird has never been digitally captured, and most accounts are from first nation experts in Australia. This rare act of intentional ignition by a non-human species gestures toward something deeply instinctive, even ritualistic, as a form of survival, much like the humans in the exhibition who connect with fire as a copying mechanism through trauma.
Supported using public funding by the National Lottery through Arts Council England, and in collaboration with London Fire Brigade Firesetting Intervention Scheme, Northumberland Fire and Rescue Service and Merseyside Fire and Rescue Service.
FURTHER INFORMATION Lucy Hodson, PR & Communications lucy.hodson@outlook.com 07967 551 002
All photos copyright: Stephen King
Notes to Editors: About the photographer, Stephen King www.stephenkingphotography.co.uk Instagram: skingphoto Stephen King is a socially engaged photographer with over 20 years’ experience of working across cultural, educational and community sectors. His practice is varied but always involves collaborations with people and how they navigate society as individuals or part of a community. Moving from documentary and editorial work in 2008 to more personally instigated & collaborative work, he has since collaborated on projects with industrial workers, miners, prisoners, LGBTQ communities, veterans, retail workers, universities, people with dementia, homeless, young people, travellers, sporting clubs, medical institutions, artists, writers & academics. In 2009 ACE funded Stephen’s project ‘Lewis’s Fifth Floor: A Department Story’ which was exhibited in National Museums Liverpool (with a publication), Orange Dot Gallery London & Brighton Photo Fringe Biennial (winning Danny Wilson Memorial Prize). In 2013 he was awarded the International Development Fund – Artist in Residence at CREATE, Dublin. In 2016 ‘Dry Your Eyes Princess’, a collaboration with John Moores University, exhibited at National Museums Liverpool (Homotopia Festival) & Red Barn Gallery, Belfast (Outburst Festival). Key commissioners include Heart of Glass, Age Concern, Arts Admin, Cork Midsummer Festival, FACT & Arts Council England. His breadth of experience & diversity of collaborations, echoes a genuine passion to work with others to tell their own stories through the powerful & accessible medium of photography.
Open Eye Gallery Open Eye Gallery is an independent, not-for-profit photography gallery based in Liverpool. One of the UK’s leading photography spaces, it is the only gallery dedicated to photography and related media in the North West of England. A registered charity, Open Eye Gallery believes photography is for everyone and can be meaningful, informing our present and inspiring positive futures. Open Eye Gallery works with people to explore photography’s unique ability to connect, to tell stories, to inquire, to reflect on humanity’s past and present, and to celebrate its diversity and creativity.
Open Eye Gallery is open 10 am – 5 pm, Tuesday to Sunday, 19 Mann Island L3 1BP. Facebook / Instagram / X: @OpenEyeGallery
Conversations at the Intersection of Photography & Social Impact
During the opening of ‘Firehawks’ at the Open Eye gallery in Liverpool, Cinzia D’Ambrosi from the Photojournalism Hub had the privilege of interviewing Stephen King, the photographer and artist behind Firehawks, and Joanna Foster, a leading expert and consultant in fire setting and behaviour in children, young people, and teenagers, who is also the Managing Director of Fabtic. Their insights add further depth to this compelling project. “It was a true delight and honour to attend Firehawks, a ground-breaking exhibition currently on view at the Open Eye Gallery in Liverpool. This unique exhibition brings together the worlds of art and public services, merging the vital work of firefighter services and therapeutic work with children and teenagers with the power of photography and visual storytelling. Through this collaboration, Firehawks opens up new ways of understanding and engaging with the complex issue of fire setting. It demonstrates how photography, as both an artistic and documentary medium, can move beyond the gallery space to foster dialogue, awareness, and social engagement.” – Cinzia
To listen the conversation or for the script follow below:
Conversation with Stephen King
Photographer Stephen King at the Opening Eye gallery in Liverpool where his series ‘Firehawks’ is currently on show.
Cinzia: I’m here with Stephen King and I’m at the Firehawks exhibition and I have lots of questions for him which I hope that he will answer. So the exhibition, Stephen, is the first thing when I came in I want to congratulate because it’s amazing, it’s wonderful and it strikes from one room to the other how much of a journey it is for people to interact in many ways to the exhibit. My first question Stephen is looking at your visuals I can see that you used a language which is very metaphorical, and I would say surreal as well but the theme of fire setting especially with young adults and children is a quite social engaged topic which often one would see it associated with a rawer images and more journalistic approach. I wanted to ask you whether that’s a deliberate choice to use this kind of language?
Stephen: Yes, so the project has taken five years in development and a large part of that was to try and figure out a suitable way to like what photographic language you could deal with a subject like this and deal with it ethically and sensitively but also you know not to sort of make it into something that it isn’t you know to sort of, I can’t think of the word, to sort of build it up into something other than what it is and also it’s not a subject through the engagement and the residencies that I did in the journey to figure out what the language would be is that it’s not a subject that you could use a traditional documentary approach with. It’s completely impossible and not very ethical for those people involved. The main reason of where I kind of landed onto using a bit more of a metaphorical and abstract kind of approach is that the issues that we’re looking at, like the drivers behind why people set fires, whilst they’re always sort of social outside problems that are influencing, it’s an internal cognitive place that it’s coming from.
So, it’s about like memory and a mental experience rather than an actual physical experience and what I was looking at was not the act of setting a fire, more why do people end up setting fires. So what’s the bit between, what’s the thing, so something happens to someone or someone’s exposed to something or you know they grow up in certain instances or environments, what makes this thing that happens, the person jump to deciding to use fire to express that and that’s what I was interested in and this is a mental landscape not a physical real landscape and I also didn’t want to ever present one story. It had to be an amalgamation of many stories brought together that would then give a kind of overarching feeling of the experience collectively of fire setting, not one person’s because it’s kind of too specific and the issue of fire setting is so random and so sporadic and different, as I say, different social, environmental, you know, different traumatic reasons that people would use fire, especially young people, as a language or as a communicative tool.
It just seemed right that it would bring elements from many different people so that was why also I chose to do such a wide amount of engagement on the residencies. So speaking with many, many, many, many people in different geographical areas and different positions so they could be professionally like in the fire service people like Joanna or a more therapeutic and kind of academic approach to it and then people who actually set fires themselves and bringing all that together into a collective experience and sort of knowledge. So, it is in a sense it’s my presentation I use my artistry to bring these together so essentially it is a kind of abstract metaphorical social documentary, so it is something that has happened is happening, but it never shows the actual thing.
Cinzia: Yeah I really, I really understand it in a way it’s so multi-layered. So there’s lots of things in these images that I would never choose to put in an image but because I’ve worked with so many people I have the respect for like well this is an element that really stood out in this story and this story here, oh I’ve got to use that and I’ve got to bring that in so how do you fix, so every image is like a puzzle, how do you bring these different stories and how do they represent and how can they play to each other within a frame so that’s why some of them are really far out and you’re like what the hell is going on here but there might be 10 different stories over 10 different 10 years you know from different people all kind of simmered down into one representation.
Cinzia: So, to just stay a little bit on this topic I see that the exhibition is also divided by the themes of distraction, communication, renewal. Can you explain a little bit the reasoning for that?
Stephen: So that just sort of reflects a common commonality in people’s experience in fire setting that they would usually lose the cause then we’re looking at the reason why someone would jump to using the element of fire but it’s usually for a reason and that might be as expressing yourself as a call for help and then it would usually go into in my instance I found something else that the same things that made me set fire I could put into something like photography so for me it was about controlling my space my landscape and having control over myself and the world and how I engaged with it feeling out of control as a child but photography gave me a great power and be able to control what is in the frame what’s out of the frame and be able to control my landscape and I just jumped into that and I never set fire again but other people it might be they go into a therapeutic sort of program and also that when I was collaborating with people who service providers like Joanna like people from the fire service who offer these therapeutic approaches so that’s the sort of the different sort of elements of how you become a fire setter how what happens in that the turmoil and the inner sort of mental space and then going into a therapeutic sort of restoral position I just didn’t want it to be so really sort of filled with doom you know like fire and doom and destruction and there is that element but I wanted there to be like an off ramp and an exit.
Cinzia: I have a question that I hope that’s okay to ask you. I did listen to the video that it’s literally the first welcoming to the exhibition. In the video you speak about that there were reasons for which you came to realize why you were doing fire setting as a child. Can you tell what was/were the trigger/s to make you remember about your experiences with fire setting as a child?
Stephen: I saw yeah I was mid 40s I kind of completely just life had just got in the way and I just completely forgotten about it I just kind of compartmentalized it and I was on a residency with a in Ireland with another artist that I work with a lot who’s involved in this as well Mark and there was a documentary from 1975 with a guy called Michael Cooper called Mini Cooper a BBC documentary about a young fire setter and it just completely just turned the light on and I went whoa and I was in a just a period of my life mid 40s you know just kind of reconsidering things and it just opened a huge door of a lot of reflection and it just seemed all right okay just I recognized how impactful something that I had forgotten about I’d actually had every single day since it happened even though I didn’t think it even I’d forgotten about it almost it had its impact every single day since I’d stopped setting fires at the age of eight or nine. Did it bring anything new for you revisiting this? It did because it’s I’m looking at it from you know an older person in mid midlife as a father as well massive like that was I think was the biggest impact of why it kind of became something that needed looking at reviewing from myself yeah it was very different because I’m dealing with either talking with young people or talking with older people who have worked with young people or I’m dealing with older people looking back on their own fire setting experience so I’m just looking at it in a far analytical caring sort of and with all the information that research brings and speaking with all these people I’m looking at it from a completely different point of view from when I reviewed like looking at myself as a young person so I can see myself in a lot of the stories that I’m receiving from people but obviously I’m looking at it from a very different elevated point of view and obviously with that point of view of as you know an image maker so everything is throwing up a mental image for me so it’s quite overwhelming to be honest with you.
Cinzia: In this exhibition we have quite a few people involved, we have the fire services, we have Joanna Foster, who is an expert consultant, bringing in an approach, also quite intellectual and so there are quite a few different people that came in in the project. I guess my question is now that you are here and the work is in the exhibition do you feel that these people and services have had an impact on your outcome, and is it different to what you have achieved?
Stephen: Absolutely yeah and without their help would have looked very differently absolutely as I said earlier that there were lots of elements in many of these images that I would never ever would have chosen to include but through the respect of collaborating with these people they have co-authored it with me you know their input there’s nothing there were small elements of autobiographical experiences in these images from myself small amounts and they’re mainly made from all the different engagements from very different north south east and west of you know the different experiences and that was why there was so many to have different perspectives from different people from like so in when I was in Northumberland on the residency with a smaller team but with a very large geographical space that they go over I was luckily enough I could shadow them so I was literally going into young people’s houses and going into schools and community centres and meeting young people that were on a programme that were fire setters so I was like shadowing and watching taking notes whereas in London they have a huge experience and a massive team but I could just sit and talk and get their personal professional stories from the entirety of their careers but you know there’s a large pool of like 10 people who’ve had whole careers working with young people so that’s a massive amount of influence and then also about what the impact is on them as service providers and therapists as well so I’m looking at it from an inside out upside down point of view and then also with young fire setters as well people I know as adults who have gone you know who’ve fire set as young people and a lot as a lot of these projects as I started I would meet one person and then randomly I would meet another person and say oh I used to set fires and it would lead to another participant and it just started to grow and grow and grow so having respect and everyone’s stories is included in some way every almost every story is included in some way in this small amount of 20 images so it completely influenced the outcome I would never would have arrived with these images without those people who collaborated on the project.
Cinzia: So what’s next? Stephen: A rest. It’s been a long five years and you know I teach full-time as well so yeah it’s hard been managing all that so who knows I feel like there’s an element of this maybe that’s still undone so I don’t feel like this is the end of this thread of work but it won’t be so similar very similar but maybe a sort of an offshoot of something will continue from this for the next project I think. Cinzia: So, do you feel like with this work the exhibition best represent it? or do you think you would be open to explore it in a photo book or something like that? Stephen: I think it would be a great photo book but it would need to be far larger I don’t think this is enough to sort of support that because it would have to be very much led by text and people’s experiences and you know the way that a lot of street so a lot of I’ve done huge amounts of interviews with people and a lot of got books filled with quotations from people and real life experiences one-to-one conversations that I’ve had and they’re very sort of poetically rewritten by myself into these very abstract captions that go with the images and that so it almost explains the story but it also saves the anonymity of the people involved so you can’t really from any image take it recognize anyone’s straight story even the person in the story might struggle to see what it is until I point it out I think ah right okay that’s my story I told you because it’s such a small element and it might be also mixed with something else like I bring them together and it kind of looks different but it’s got the same ingredients you know but it is to save people’s anonymity into as I say earlier to give a kind of overarching feeling and experience of fire setting that’s thank you yes it’s very okay until just until when is the exhibition it’s until November so it’s on for two months okay so that’s um it’s more for people yeah but that’s the kind of struggle is to find it is something like you’re saying that there would normally be a very sort of documentary led project but it wouldn’t be very respectful to the people involved to just go straight documentary you know I could hang around in parks and look for children to bins and stuff but it’s not going to have that same respectful sort of I’m really getting under you know really getting under the covers of the reasons and the drivers.
Cinzia: well, done, because it’s a topic I wouldn’t even know where to start
Stephen: it began with another project so the image behind you the final image there it was beautiful that image so that was one of the first images I did in trying to find the language how to do it so I went back to places so I had not been back there for 40 years and that was the last thing I set fire to and it was just a thick thick thick wood and when I went back so obviously the impact of me set the fire when I was young it had taken all the trees out and now it’s an orchard where the community grow apples it’s amazing yeah So it was really poignant you know to go back and then it was like this positive actual positive impact that it had um so I would take so these are straight documentary images but they’re taken on large format film 5-4 and I went back and then I would use these this series of images to meet the first participants because people when I first started trying to talk about this they’re very wary like why do you want to talk to me what do you want to take photos of so I would start with this series of images of mine and say this is what I did when I was young and I’ve just gone back 40 years later and I’ve sort of re-engaged with these spaces and made this new body of photographic work so there’s a whole body of these images it’s a whole separate project of like these large formats sort of spatial and they’re all lit with orange light and it’s the same colour temperature of a naked flame so it’s 3200 kelvin which is the same light temperature that’s why it has this orange glow um interestingly really what is one of the imagery and they wait for a lot more yeah it’s pretty nice so in a sense that is the only way I could use a straight documentary approach was with myself but with anyone else it wouldn’t be appropriate. Cinzia: thank you Stephen: no that’s amazing yeah thanks.
For the conversation in audio:
Conversation with Joanna Foster
Joanna Foster, consultant and expert in firesetting in children and teenagers, managing director of Fabtic
Cinzia: Okay great, so I’m here with Joanna Foster and we are at the Firehawk exhibition in Liverpool at the Open Eye in Liverpool, It’s an amazing exhibition, it’s very poignant in many ways as it deals with the topic of fire setting and I would say it’s probably the very first time that such topic is in a public realm as a photography exhibition.
Joanna is very much an expert in fire setting, she is a consultant, she has an amazing career from also being a firefighter yourself, right?
Joanna, I would like to ask you as this is a co-authored exhibition with people from fire services, yourself bringing in your expertise and your experiences, as very much a merger I would say between art and public services, my question is what’s your thoughts about it? And do you see this as a method that could carry on not just in fire setting but maybe in other ways.
Joanna: I very much hope it will be something that sets a precedent as you say either for this behaviour or other behaviours that we start to see that collaboration between so-called experts and people with lived experience and artists to tell a story. We think of the word history, his story, so who tells stories that are reflective of the people who are truly impacted. Therefore that’s what I’d like to see happening here is as you say a beautiful merger between people requiring support, people giving that support and then artists like yourself, like Stephen, who can allow us to have difficult conversations, take uncomfortable behaviours that are coming from uncomfortable feelings because of what’s happened to someone not what’s wrong with them and really give safe expression and understanding to that fire setting behaviour is usually communicating big feelings where let’s take big exhibitions and big pieces of art and photography to give this story a truth and a reality that often is very misunderstood and hidden.
Cinzia: I was literally asking a similar question around the actual interpretation and representation of such a topic because it has so many layers and it has quite a lot of aspects which are more psychological, which with your work you are very accustomed to know. Do you see images as visually representing these topics and in what way? Speaking earlier with Stephen we understand that he felt that was the best way to convey the topic, in a more surreal and abstract way. Do you see this approach as a good representation of what you go through with your work, and you know the same thematic that they are represented here in the exhibition?
Joanna: Yes I think because I was expecting a more typical documentary story this is this person this is what they set on fire and yet actually this almost fantastical representation I think works really powerfully and beautifully because often children are setting fires teenagers are setting fires to recreate a different world something different to the everyday reality it draws on imagination and creativity therefore why not depict it in that same almost fantastical fairy story like way and that’s not to romanticise the behaviour because what we are talking about here is something that can be incredibly dangerous to that child or somebody else but what it is exposing is this notion of fire is transformative as changing a landscape giving power and control so using this medium of photography rather than that more documentary like I think does indeed work well.
Cinzia: I would say it’s very advanced in like almost like pioneering way of looking at such a deep social issue and you know in a public gallery with a merger as I mentioned before public services and art but looking towards the future how do you see this developing do you feel like it could lead the way to more?
Joanna: That’s a stunning question where does it develop how does it develop this is outside the realm of photography and art but what I hope it has as enduring and ongoing impact is reminding practitioners again those experts you described of reminding ourselves that what Stephen has created by giving an imaginative safe voice to people with stories of hurt and harm that we must do the same all the time in our work how do we really listen to people how do we get people to express safely what’s happening when are too difficult so in one sense that’s how I really hope this work endures continues and transforms and in terms of the challenge of well what does this look like in other realms why couldn’t this be a way forward does art become in itself a form of repair and I absolutely think it does art in all its forms is restorative it repairs harm why aren’t we using it more for people to tell their stories we have to remind ourselves when you use the word experts the ultimate expert is that person no one’s more expert on anybody but themselves so let’s take that lived experience expertise the expertise of artists clinicians practitioners and why not let this be pioneering and influencing future ways for people to say this is what happened to me and why.
Cinzia: I should have asked you this question before, but can you tell us about how did you feel about being asked to participate and collaborate in this project? Joanna: another good question that I must admit I get lots of different media requests and sadly worryingly in 2025 though it is it’s still often very voyeuristic very sensationalist not in any way trauma informed and what stood out for me from the very beginning was the lens if you excuse the pun that Stephen wanted to apply which was one of really understanding that this behaviour often comes from a place of hurt and harm and therefore how can we tell this story safely so I will admit that in the early days Stephen had to go through quite a few questions for me as to the quality of the work not questioning for a moment his calibre as a photographer but whose story is he telling to what aim and whose agenda is being filled and I had no impression of an ego this was a man who wanted to tell a very truthful and raw story about five setting behaviour so I became involved after a number of emails from Stephen and his quiet persistence that his intent here was absolutely to do no more harm but have the impact that art can and once I realized that and it didn’t take very long at all for his integrity to shine through I was really excited to be a part of this work.
Cinzia: I guess one more question is about the property that a photography can embed. Do you feel that it has this restorative power and healing aspect? Joanna: yeah yes I’m nodding furiously and remembering we’re actually doing an audio recording here not a visual one. Yes photography I think is one of the most powerful ways to tell a story they say the camera never lies but of course what is different in photography is yes first of all the lens that someone wants to use the perspective they want to give what story are they telling and the person the other side of that lens either as the subject being talked about or visualized or the person then interpreting that photograph I think photography has incredible power to show what’s happening yet still allow the receiver that information to build their own image what might lie deeper in that instant image that’s portrayed.
Cinzia: Is there any image in particular that resonates for you more than another but not because of the quality but because you instantly feel like oh my god this is the picture that really tells about your work? Joanna: absolutely there’s two in particular so the first is the image of the child with the soot covered mouth and the matches on their tongue because that says absolutely how fire becomes a voice for children who aren’t seen who aren’t understood who aren’t listened to despite every part of their behaviour saying I am not okay so that for me is an incredible incredible image and also because in reality any child with that layer of soot around their mouth would in fact probably be killed by the smoke inhalation so that for me tells me that’s why I do this work to listen to children what they’re communicating through their behaviour and to realize just how quickly things can go dreadfully wrong and then the second image is the one of the mattress which features dolls that are on fire and a big part of my work and anybody in this field trying to understand what might be happening is to be curious about what is being set on fire because children typically don’t have many possessions so if they’re setting fire to their own things like their beds their bedding their toys and weave as best we can without it was accidental that there’s a deliberate act of destruction here then that makes me really wonder what’s happening to this child and the fact that those two images can make me go that’s why I do what I do is the reason for my last gobbled answer of what photography can give here’s the image what do we take from that image.
Cinzia: thank you for that that’s actually really powerful I wouldn’t have even you know like analysed it in this way that’s interesting yeah and very important um yeah thank you. What is next? Joanna: what happens to this because there’s an energy around this there’s a focus around this how do we maintain it right now I’m not sure. I hope that people come into the exhibition or if people can’t physically get to the exhibition, they can see the spotlight you’re shining on it Cinzia, which I thank you so much for. I hope that’s what happens next people are curious people start asking questions and we keep talking about this subject and in a really sensitive and informed way it’s really easy when there’s a fire that causes harm that we demonize a child and it’s incumbent on us to be asking well what happened there and that’s what I’d like to see next selfishly I’d love to keep working with Stephen goodness knows what that could look like of course equally selfishly working with you um maybe that’s for us to think about what next and it may be people listening to this their ideas of well where does this go next how do we maintain this energy and it doesn’t just become oh well wasn’t that nice and we filed away in a cupboard.
Cinzia: I was actually asking the same question to Steve about what’s next and he and I did drop a line to say what about a photo book. What do you think about that? Joanna: yes um you’re perhaps speaking to the converted because I have different photo books yes that reason of photography telling a story for me it’s making sure that photo book is accessible, the gallery space we are in is one of the few galleries I’ve ever come into first of all it’s free of course that happens in other galleries but there’s free tea coffee and biscuits for anyone to help themselves to that’s how we make art accessible that’s how we ensure that art is for everybody it’s a working class medium it’s not sat away accessible only to people with certain incomes so a photo book that captures this and is available in libraries in our institutions what the funding looks like for that I have no idea but would that be glorious that we could keep telling this story in a way that really people can reach.
Cinzia: I absolutely agree thank you.
Joanna: Thanks a lot. Thank you.
For the conversation in audio:
Conversations run by Cinzia D’Ambrosi, documentary photographer and journalist, director and founder of the Photojournalism Hub.
June 14 marks eight years from the Grenfell Tower fire. The grief remains deep. Grenfell tower stands as a painful reminder of a preventable tragedy that claimed 72 lives on the night of June 14, 2017.
These photographs of the community coming together to grief the loss of lives, are not just a documentation of a moment in history, they are a call to remember, to reflect, and to remind us that the fight for justice continues. Above all, to uphold the principle of equality for all.
The pain felt by the Grenfell community is not just personal. It is the pain of institutional failure, of systemic inequality, of lives devalued. Inequality cost lives. This was not simply a tragedy. It was, and continues to be, a profound human rights failure.
We are delighted to present Bruno Saguer as our featured photographer this month. His photographic stories shed light on some of the most harrowing labour conditions, conveyed with a poetic vision and powerful sensitivity that both compel and move us deeply.
This work is neither a protest nor a technical chronicle, but an aesthetic immersion into the decaying beauty of corrosion, into the imprint that time and human toil leave on every stranded hull. Photography as an addiction to decomposition, to the texture of the ephemeral.
From its nest, the seagull takes off over the sea. From the shipyard, the vessel sets sail. Everything tastes of salt. The salt of life, the salt of death.
To launch, to hoist, to depart, to sail, to weather the storm, to board, to dock… A ship always carries the emotional weight of a journey toward the horizon, rocked by waves. Whether carrying people, treasure, or trade, every ship bears the significance of its voyage. Iodine drifts in the air, sea spray weaves into tangled hair flowing in the wind. A maritime symphony whispers all around. But many ships don’t reach a dignified end. After 20 or 30 years riding the waves, they’re cast aside, pushed to die like abandoned animals, left to scavengers.
Bound for slaughter.
Some places in the world have become their graveyards. And the locals—made their executioners. But this isn’t Père Lachaise in Paris. No Balzac, Camus, Chopin, Oscar Wilde, or Jim Morrison lie here. Instead, ships bear flags of convenience—fiscal loopholes, legal evasions, flags with no country.
There is no grey bin for maritime waste. No final place where all things belong. They simply end. Nowhere.
Eid Mubarak. August 2012. Chittagong, Bangladesh.
A northern “still life” made of open-air scrap. These shores should be erased from nautical charts, kept beyond the reach of any compass or bearing.
The poetry of the sea ends here. The carnage begins. No blood is spilled—only oil, diesel, and thick, contaminating fluids.
Dignity slips through the scuppers. Humiliation pools in the bilges at the end of this tragic journey.
Paints, heavy metals, asbestos— A corrosive cocktail you won’t find on a Mediterranean cruise. There will be no dinner at the captain’s table tonight.
No necks are cut, but every part of the ship is dismantled—hull to deck, cabins to engine room, even the prized bridge, where only hours before the horizon was scanned from a privileged perch.
The swords and guillotines of old revolutions are now acetylene torches and cutting saws.
A metallic roar. No siren songs here—just horns of iron pain.
Tons of steel are fed into the maw of shredders. As far as the eye can see, rusted carcasses marooned at low tide. No longer sand, but rare metals of another periodic table. Human termites gnaw at metal, wood, plastic, rope.
Dusk falls on the “unshipyard” of cruise liners, cargo ships, and freighters. Floodlights flicker on. Stripped of rest, the pillaging continues—plates, bolts, no loose ends. In three to six months, the vessel is no more.
A ship scrapped in three or four months in Bangladesh nets a million dollars in return—on a five-million-dollar investment.
And yet, this apocalyptic landscape seduces. It releases photographic endorphins. The eye, the camera’s viewfinder—both tint crimson under a leaden sky.
Steel skeletons run aground in rhythm with the tides. Swarms rush port and starboard, scrambling for the best loot—not astrolabes or sextants, but lifeboats, portholes, wires, propellers, spark plugs, pistons, lamps, sensors, sonar, radar, GPS. All of it cloaked in raw rust.
Rust merchants. Steel auctions. Everything is for sale. Even souls. Recycling without activism—just a euphemism. Melted down, but not damned.
Some pieces will sail again—aboard new vessels, or hanging in chic homes and restaurants. Better that than being left to rot on a deserted beach after a failed escape from a cyclone.
Such is the cycle of the sea. Knots and nautical miles become cubic meters of waste and steel.
Personal stories cling to these corroded remains. Like that of Hossain Khatun. A Bengali man, generations deep, rooted in toxic mud. His descendants likely will be too. There’s no way out, unless you swim—to nowhere.
His nephew Kamal, 14, walks him to the shoreline each day as the fishermen return. If the tide’s low, they can get closer. Hossain is 64 and blind. Kamal guides his arm so he can stretch his hand toward the fishermen and beg.
Kamal has spent nearly all his life working in the yards. The toxicity took his vision. Hossain is on the same path—unless he’s hurt first (they use the blind to crawl into dangerous crevices of the ships), or unless he tries to swim away…
To earn a plate of rice or dhal, they cut through plates of steel. They travel from Panchariya to Faujdarhat—almost 20 km of sandy graveyard. No insurance. No safety gear.
Roughly 200,000 souls live trapped like fish in a stagnant pond. Over 80 yards compete for the dying.
But the rust—captivates.
Nearly one in five of the world’s aging ships end up here.
Many NGOs have reported the working and environmental conditions.
That ship lamp from the Singaporean vessel “Green Earth” will look lovely somewhere. It’s docked in port now, set to sail for Malaysia tomorrow. But it’ll be back. I won’t.
How strange that so much decay can be so visually fascinating. Corrosion addiction could be the title of this landscape.
Thankfully, my memories are rusting. Only images remain. Another contradiction.
Anchored in rust, one becomes a witness to one of the most extreme forms of circular economy—a cycle both toxic and hauntingly poetic.
Bruno Saguer
“The greatest photos are those no camera can capture, yet only a photographer can see. My quest is never to miss one again.”
Born in Barcelona in 1972, half French and half Spanish, my earliest memories of photography are rooted in the dim red glow of my father’s darkroom at home. A passionate Nikon enthusiast, he introduced me to the magic of framing life in black and white. Though he passed away when I was 18, his legacy deeply shaped how I perceive the world through a lens. My journey as an amateur photographer truly began with my Nikon D700 and a humble Tamron 17-50 lens, ignited by a simple desire to feed my curiosity. My first solo photo trip was to India, a welcoming place where capturing slices of everyday life and close portraits came naturally. Inspired by a mesmerizing documentary about the shipbreaking yards in Bangladesh, I organized a photographic expedition with friends, driven not by activism but by a fascination with the stark beauty of rusted giants awaiting dismantlement. From bustling Dhaka to the surreal graveyard of ships extending for kilometres, the contrast between human vitality and industrial decay was captivating. Beyond the dismantling itself, it was the vibrant recycling economy—shops filled with salvaged lamps and life jackets—that left a lasting impression. One such lamp now hangs in my home, a constant reminder to seek out the next photographic journey. Balancing the roles of father and founder of an advertising and branding agency, my greatest challenge remains finding time to pursue these personal photographic projects, each an exploration waiting patiently for its moment. My job has also exposed me to brilliant work, and both creativity and art direction continually spark my curiosity. Among the photographers I admire most right now is Edward Burtynsky. Of course, I follow many others, specially Martin Parr, and depending on the mood—documentary, street, colour, black & white, or portrait—but I find Edward’s perspective uniquely compelling. Website | Instagram | Email
Marcia Michael: The Family Album Sat 15 March – Sun 1 June | First Floor Gallery | Tue – Sun, 11am – 5pm | Fr
Experience a powerful reimagining of The Family Album, exploring the beauty and depth of family connections across time while celebrating the body as a site of history and memory. This first major solo exhibition by multidisciplinary artist Marcia Michael is a ‘massive love letter’ to family and celebrates the sense of belonging and joy found through family connections. The Family Album is a deeply personal exploration of kinship that pieces together a rich family history through contemporary photography, sculptures, ceramics, and print design. The works of the British artist of African and Caribbean descent centre around three interconnected series: The Study of Kin, The Family Album, and The Object of my Gaze. These moving collections, archived as a revolutionary act of remembrance, display Michael’s ongoing journey to reconnect with and preserve memory, love and identity. Michael’s intimate portraits of herself and close family members -particularly her mother – explore how the human body can serve as both a physical and emotional vessel for recorded histories. These works echo resilience across generations and highlight the uplifting power of family bonds. For The Family Album, MAC commissioned new pieces from Michael, including a unique necklace featuring miniature bronze sculptures representing the bodies of mother and daughter. Through her diverse artworks Michael aims to foster a sense of familiarity and belonging that are centred within the home. This showcase invites the visitor to reconsider the traditional interpretation of a family album and encourages them to (re)connect with their own family histories from a new perspective. Marcia Michael, the artist of The Family Album, said:
“The Family Album ultimately defines my unconditional love for my family past, present and future. It creates and holds space where images and artefacts lie in wait to be seen touched and remembered. It is always imagination that keeps the past alive! As time passes it becomes important that there is a place where one can access and retrieve the whispers of this past. As well as relocate their visual, tangible and auditory memories into the voices of new kin as they take over.”
About the artist, Marcia Michael Marcia Michael (b. 1973, London, UK) is an award-winning British multidisciplinary artist of Caribbean and African heritage who challenges the representation of the Black subject within the family album by reconstructing her own family archive. With great sensitivity toward her sitters and environments, her work encompasses captivating matrilineal photography, self-portraiture, moving images, sculptures, poetry, sound pieces, and drawings, using both traditional and non-traditional media. Through photography as both a mode of documentation and conversation, Michael renews and reimagines a transdisciplinary tradition of storytelling, seamlessly connecting past, present, and future. Her work guides the viewer on a journey through temporal dimensions, weaving together Black feminism, intergenerational visuality, African diasporic traditions, and the representation of the Black mothering body. Michael’s practice reimagines and restructures history through the empowered, political, and self-loving Black body. She studied photography at the University of Derby (1996) and earned an MA in Photography with distinction from the London College of Communication (2009). In 2024, she was awarded a Ph.D. from the University of the Arts London. Her body of work has been shown internationally. The Object of My Gaze, exhibited at Autograph ABP, London (2018), and Tate Britain (2022), builds on her earlier series The Study of Kin and The Family Album (2009). For more information, please visit: marciamicheal.co.uk.
Where Memory Meets Curatorship: Photojournalism Hub x Dominique Nok
Interview with Dominique Nok, 1873 Studios By Cinzia D’Ambrosi, documentary photographer and founder/director of the Photojournalism Hub.
What initially drew you to Marcia Michael’s work, and what made you decide topresent this exhibition? Around four years ago, I heard Marcia speak at a photography symposium in London. She showed images while reciting one of her poems and playing a sound piece of her mum laughing. Her intimate, unfiltered, and pure body of work—and the way she described her relationship with her late, beloved mother—touched me. After the event, I went up to her and we spoke briefly. From that moment, I knew I needed to learn more about Marcia and her work—and that the world around me should too. So, when the opportunity came at Midlands Arts Centre (MAC)—a place where I knew people who look like Marcia, our family members, and myself are warmly welcomed—I did not hesitate to put her forward. Knowing that Birmingham is home to many people from Africa and of African descent, I knew her work would speak to them, and that it would acknowledge what and who needs to be acknowledged.
What does this exhibition reveal about the ways diasporic communities preservememory and identity across generations? The answer to this question could easily become a whole essay—there is so much to say about preserving memory and diasporic identity across generations. I am, therefore, going to try to give an answer in the best possible way. We know that people from the African diaspora take pride in things like food, dress, music, and our ability to withstand hardship. These elements have hugely contributed to our identity and are ingrained in our memory. Amongst ourselves, we celebrate this—think of birthday parties at a family member’s house, and weddings. What we are often less aware of are the many stories we carry within us and unconsciously pass on to others. This is something Marcia spoke about again and again—and something she tenderly and beautifully portrays through her work. “The body is more than just a host; it carries countless stories.” Yes, Marcia presents several ways to preserve memory through archives, and photography by documenting her close family members, showing their facial features, their hair, and body parts like fingernails and feet. But it goes so much further and so much deeper. Identity is found in connection and here, she gently and cleverly shifts the narrative—from being othered to belonging, from hatred to love.
“The body is more than just a host; it carries countless stories.”
With a frightening and atrocious past—one that we, as people from the African diaspora, are still unpacking and healing from—there is still so much more to uncover. I am talking about a beautiful history that was concealed, forbidden to speak about or act upon, and has not been accessible through disclosed records of the past. In this exhibition, Marcia offers another way to enter this hidden family history: by engaging with stories that have been shared with her, using different mediums to tell those stories, and allowing her imagination to reveal and communicate what known and written history alone cannot. These found truths can hereafter develop into connection with the people around us, those who came before us and create pathways to develop an identity of belonging for future generations.
Can you share a bit about the curatorial process, were there particular challenges orbreakthroughs in how to present such personal, intimate work in a public space? Marcia’s practice is deeply layered. Nothing about it is linear—everything can be viewed from multiple angles. Each piece she creates is made with the utmost care and carries profound meaning. Capturing the essence of what she was trying to communicate was, I believe, my biggest challenge. It took time to truly grasp the depth of her work, but once I did, I was able to present it in a way that a wider audience could connect with and understand. While safeguarding personal elements and allowing Marcia to express what she felt comfortable to share, I sought to preserve the intimacy and care she has within her practice. Producing an experience for visitors—one that would allow them to encounter Marcia’s work in an impactful way, resonating with their own family histories was my focus. Because of the strong bond that runs through the lineage of Marcia’s mother, I wanted to create a kind of womb—an inner space. A space that feels homely and holds stories. A space that is accessible, where people can walk through—into other dimensions of the work—connecting the three bodies of work: The Family Album, The Object of My Gaze, and The Study of Kin. When I presented my vision, MAC’s Artistic Director and CEO, Deborah Kermode, said, “Dominique, we’ve never done something like this—but it’s not impossible you know.” Her trust meant the world to me. MAC has been phenomenal in facilitating this exhibition—they truly are an amazing arts institution. The structure of the inner space and the layout I envisioned on paper took far more effort to bring to life. At times the fantastic technicians at MAC were pushed to their limits—but they did it!
What legacy do you hope The Family Album leaves for audiences and future artistsalike? I hope that visitors will be touched in a way that, through art and creativity, they begin to uncover what is hidden within them. Whether by observing and allowing the work to spark emotion—something they can then explore further—or by beginning their own journey of discovery through their own creativity. That could be through photography, poetry, dance, collage, or anything really, that helps them to (re)connect with what lies inside and open a dialogue with themselves and/or their loved ones.
To future artists, I want to say: do not limit yourself. You are not a one-trick pony. You can explore multiple mediums, also at the same time, you can wear multiple hats. You hold the power to shift narratives—and to change the world around us! As Marcia would say: “Let’s just play!” You never know what beauty might come from it—unless you try.
About the curator, Dominique Nok Dominique Nok (b. 1977, Paramaribo, Suriname) is a Black female portrait photographer and curator, born in Paramaribo, Suriname, raised in Amsterdam, and based in London. She has over 20 years’ experience as a commercial photographer and holds a bachelor’s degree in (Photo) Journalism and a master’s in curating. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, BBC Midlands, ITV.com, and The Voice of Holland, with exhibitions at Midland Art Centre, Harris Museum, and FUJIFILM House of Photography. Dominique’s curatorial career began with the We Are Here exhibition for UKBFTOG (UK Black Female Photographers). Since then, she has created platforms for predominantly female (and female-identifying) artists, collaborating with individuals and collectives such as Maryam Wahid, Sharon Walters, and the Mixed Rage Collective. Dominique is passionate about advancing equal representation for artists from the African diaspora and those of Global Majority heritage. For more information, please visit: 1873studios.com.
About Midlands Arts Centre (MAC) For over 60 years, Midlands Arts Centre (MAC) has connected people with creativity. MAC is a contemporary arts centre and independent charity, with the mission to make art an important part of people’s lives. Set in the magnificent surroundings of Cannon Hill Park in Birmingham, MAC is the number one visited free attraction in the West Midlands. At the heart of MAC is a focus on sustainability, accessibility, and inclusion. MAC works extensively to support international and local artists, and develop programmes for and with our local community. MAC is a registered charity supported by players of People’s Postcode Lottery through the Postcode Culture Trust and Arts Council England.
Midlands Arts Centre (MAC) Cannon Hill Park, Birmingham, B12 9QH Registered charity no. 528979
Facebook: @Midlands Arts Centre – MAC X (formerly known as Twitter): @mac_birmingham Instagram: @mac_birmingham TikTok: @midlandsartscentre
December 2023, Mediterranean sea. People onboard an overcrowded rubberboat drifting in the central Mediterranean sea have been found by the rescue crew of the Sea-Watch 5, at sunset on Christmas Eve.
The history of migration across the Mediterranean goes back thousands of years. In recent years, tens of thousands of people have crossed the Mediterranean by boat from North Africa and Turkey to seek asylum or to migrate to Europe. The central Mediterranean Sea is the Europe’s deadliest frontier. In 2014 and 2015, about 320,000 people crossed the sea from North Africa to Europe, mainly ending up in Italy and Malta. The next year, the vast majority of migrants crossing to Europe did so in the Eastern Mediterranean, landing on Greek islands close to the Turkish coast. Altogether, however, the most dangerous route is still in the central Mediterranean where distances are longer and the weather more unpredictable.
In 2023 alone, at least 3,129 men, women and children trying to cross into Europe were reported missing or dead at sea – an average of 8 people per day. This makes 2023 the deadliest since 2017. While Libya remains the main point of departure, during 2023 the number of boats leaving from Tunisia have increased dramatically. The majority of migrants are being smuggled by human traffickers who charge thousands of euros for a vague promise to take migrants to the closest EU territory. Most of these migrants are subject to serious abuse prior to their departure and there’s no guarantees of ever making it to Europe.
Fenruary 2021, Medieterranean sea. People onboard an overcrowded rubberboat drifting in the night through the central Mediterranean sea have been found by the rescue crew of the Sea-Watch 3. The rescue operation was carried out in the darkness.
Since 2014 around 30,000 migrants have been confirmed dead at sea but the reality is that many more attempt the crossing and lose their lives without ever being found. With legal pathways to gaining entry to the EU not an option for most refugees detained in or transiting through Libya or Tunisia, risking their lives at sea is the only way out the country.
The stories of those who make it to Europe mostly have a similar theme. In the places where they were waiting for passage to Europe they were often working for no money, being kidnapped for ransom and facing horrendous violence, murders, forced eviction, destruction of property, detention and arbitrary arrests, even if they were on their way back to their country of origin. Thousands of migrants find themselves in an impossible situation. Either they endure abuse in the transit countries or risk the journey to Europe.
December 2023, Mediterranean sea. RHIB crew of the Sea-Watch 5 during a training. The RHIB crew has the task to perform first approach and provide the first rescue to the peole in distress at sea, transferring them from their boats on the morhter ship. Trainings are frequent, intense, and cover almost all possible real scenarios that could occur during a critical rescue.
‘Libya is so hard for us. We are stuck. We can’t move on and we can’t travel back where we came from. That’s why we take the risk and cross the sea. This journey is the journey of life or death. A journey of no return’ says one of the lucky ones who was rescued by a boat chartered by Sea Watch, an NGO that patrols the Mediterranean and assists migrant boats in distress.
The accounts of the ‘journey of life or death’ told by so many survivors are equally harrowing. Overcrowded and unseaworthy boats, no food or water for days, struggling people driven to despair by exhaustion, dehydration and extreme temperatures combine with the gravest discomfort in cramped decks, sea sickness, storms and other adverse weather to test even the strongest-willed. Most journeys cover a distance of between 400 and 500 km to Italian and Maltese shores. SOS calls are systematically bounced between various European authorities and coast guards often resulting in them being ignored or actioned after an agonising wait. Many boats capsize or sink before rescue craft make their way to the scene.
Through the most recent deals with Libya and Tunisia, the EU has increasingly trained, financed and strengthen the unofficial coast-guards of the northern African countries to reach as many boats as possible. The unscrupulous so-called Libyan coast guard and Tunisian authorities unlawfully bring the migrants back to the place of abuse they had escaped from. Libya, a country that has been in a state of de facto civil war since the overthrow of Muammar Gaddafi in 2011, is officially deemed ‘unsafe’ by international law, and interceptions violate the fundamental human right of non refoulement. Only 5% of the migrants leaving the North African coasts reach Italian or Maltese territory independently. The vast majority are rescued by the Italian coast guard and non- profits operating their own rescue missions to try and prevent more deaths.
‘They use Black people [people] to make money there. So if you don’t have the money you will have to die there or live in pain’ recalls another person rescued by a patrol boat in the Mediterranean. ‘The life in Libya is very tough, it’s by God’s grace that I’m still alive today. Because sometimes you go to work, you work with them and maybe they don’t want to pay you: they can take your life there.’
Non-governmental organisations carrying out search and rescue (SAR) operations have been a constant presence in the Mediterranean since 2014, seeking to fill the void left by the lack of state-organised SAR operations. The European Union, and especially Italy, are increasingly implementing stricter migration policies, essentially criminalising NGOs carrying out SAR activities.
February 2021, Mediterranean sea. Migrant rubber boat after its passengers have been brought to safety onboard the Sea-Watch 3. Between 70 and 80 people were crossing the sea on the overcrowded rubber boat, with limited water, gasoline, no gps nor satellite connection, no food and at risk of sinking for deflation or capsize.
After systematic cases of arbitrary seizures of the rescue ships and prosecution of crews, the recent practice of assigning distant ports for disembarkation, for example, keeps rescue ships away for days from the search and rescue area in the central Mediterranean where most of the emergencies occur. Despite the challenges, a number of non-profit organisations, such as Sea-Watch portrayed in this work, continue their tireless search and rescue activities at sea, in solidarity with the most criminalised: the people fleeing in search of a safer future.
Selene Magnolia Gattiis an Italian award-winning IFJ, NUJ freelance photojournalist based in Northern Italy and Berlin. Her work spans multiple issues, including questions of environmental and social justice, food production, migration, as well as gender related and contemporary political issues. She works on assignment and independent projects. Since 2023 she is represented and distributed by Panos Pictures. Raised in the Italian Dolomites, where she developed a strong bond to the natural environment, she has a background as emergency nurse, volunteer medical personnel in humanitarian crises, and academically qualified linguist, before shifting to and studying photojournalism. She has worked for a number of publications such as Der Spiegel, The Guardian, de Volkskrant, Il Reportage, Il Manifesto, amongst others. She also works for some of the leading environmental media agencies and a number of international no profits. Some of her photographic work on intensive food production is featured in the book ‘Hidden – Animals in the Anthropocene’, awarded ‘Photography Book of the Year’ by POY (2021). Her long-term project Zor, which portrays life in the biggest so-called ghetto in Europe, was exhibited at Perpignan’s Visa Pour L’Image photojournalism festival 2022. Her work was recognised by British Journal of Photography (2023), Siena Photography Awards (2022), London Photography Awards (2022), Prix de la Photographie Paris (2022), TIFA, MIFA, BIFA (2022), Kolga Tbilisi (2022), Global Billboard Project (2021), among other winning entries. She was selected for the Hamburg Portfolio Review in 2023. In 2023, she is the yearly Senior Fellow of WeAnimals Media Agency and a recipient of the European Environmental Journalism Fund grant for an ongoing project about the impact of factory farming.
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This is the story of Mary, born on the 2nd of May 1994 in Mushalash, a small town in Lagos State in Nigeria. Her grandmother called her Tinuola, meaning “full of wealth” in the Yoruba language.
After a journey of more than 2.500 miles and endless time, which took her from Lagos to Benin City, then to Kano, Agadez in Niger and finally to the seaport city of Zuara in Libya, she arrived in Sicily in October 2014 and was transferred to Florence shortly afterwards. Following the end of one of the hospitality projects, she was transferred to Chivasso, a small town near Turin in 2017. Mary is a guest of the Mary Poppins association, a non-profit organisation that works with trafficked women.
The journey that carries me to Chivasso is much shorter, just a few minutes’ drive from Turin, where I live and work. I turn to Mary Poppins thanks to the advice of a friend who works for the cooperative as an operator. After a series of introductory interviews I met Mary in April 2018. Time carried me to become her friend. Her white brother. That is what she calls me now when she has to introduce me to her friends.
In 2019, Mary leaves the project and starts a new life. A life not easy and full of difficulties, made of mistakes, steps forward, passions, pain, humiliation. A long bureaucratic path to regularization on Italian ground and the search for a job.
This is a small story about the world around her and her incredible story.
It’s the story of our friendship.
Mary poses for a portrait I took of her at the Sacra di San Michele. A place I absolutely wanted her to see given its strong spirituality. Sant’Ambrogio di Susa, February 2020.
Mary and Kate are getting ready for another birthday party for a friend of theirs who is in the Mary Poppins shelter project. Chivasso, July 2018.
Mary and her roommates during a birthday party for their friend’s daughter. Chivasso, May 2018.
Mary shows signs of Libya on her body, of the exploitation she was subjected to and the voodoo ritual she underwent before leaving for Europe. She has a story no different from the thousands of other girls imprisoned in hot spots and forced into prostitution to pay off the debt contracted for the journey. A debt tha strangles them and forces them to be trafficked. San Sebastiano da Po, May 2018.
With the arrival of 2022, it has been more than two years since Mary has been undocumented, officially illegal. So, we decide it is time to begin to find a way out of this state of slumber and malaise. Through old contacts in the hospitality world and a lawyer friend, Mary is placed in a new project. Turin, March 2022.
Mary jealously preserves this photo. It’s the only photo of her mum with her and her brother. Her mother unfortunately died when she was still a child and Mary grew up with her grandmother in a house outside the city. Chivasso, May 2018.
The first trial period, the first activated internship is officially over. It lasted six months. The tailoring job currently is the only way she can afford money to help pay her rent and everything else. Turin, February 2023.
Mary poses for a portrait in the room of her host cohousing. Turin, March 2023.
Federico Tisa – BIO From architectural studies to photography the step is short
Federico Tisa Turin. April 1982. In 2013, following a trip to Perugia, Federico fell in love with documentary photography and totally dedicated himself to this new direction, which became totalizing and inspiring. In 2015 he obtained a master’s degree at the Italian Institute of Photography in Milan. He continued his studies in photojournalism in Rome, where he completed a master’s degree in photojournalism in 2017, focusing on the use of photography as a means of communication dedicated to an anthropological narrative and the development of medium- and long-term projects. His work explores the human condition from a broad perspective, with a focus on the social and cultural context. Since 2017, Federico has been working as an independent photographer and his work is published by national and international magazines.
It has been called the ‘transformed belt’ and consists of a set of territories in southern Sicily where greenhouse farming activities have replaced the original crops. This transformation has led to the partial destruction of dune environments with the consequent pollution of the coast, the loss of biodiversity and a strong marginalisation of migrant communities. In fact, migrants are the majority of the workforce.
Those who work in the greenhouses are also hidden from the rest of the community as they live, in most cases, in rural settings and in employer-provided housing that is often shacks or company sheds. Throughout the area, entry into the labour market is a profoundly precarious process, marked by daily relationships and articulated solely in terms of exploitative relationships.
In recent decades, the number of greenhouses on the island has practically tripled. An example is the case of Santa Croce di Camerina (RG) in which has the highest percentage ratio of migrant population employed in agriculture and the municipality hosts half of the foreign population registered in the province. A simple estimate of the area covered by the greenhouses, which changes every year, shows an area of about 61 square kilometres surrounding the town.
The NGO Emergency operates in the entire area of the transformed belt. In addition to having a psychological support programme for the labourers, it is vital for those who otherwise would not have access to basic health services.
Finally, there is the environmental factor. Greenhouse agriculture requires an intensive use of pesticides and fertilisers that lead to a progressive loss of fertility and a high rate of soil consumption. Residues seem to be a determining factor in the pollution of water analysed by ISPRA. The institute calculates that at least 66,176 tonnes of fertilisers are released annually into the island’s agricultural systems. To this is added atmospheric pollution from dioxins due to the numerous fires lit at the end of the day to burn greenhouse maintenance waste often made of plastic.
Bio Angelo Scelfo, Italian photojournalist based in Bologna (Italy). Born in October 1979 in Bologna and grown up in Sicily. I studied philosophy at Università degli studi di Palermo and photography at ISFCI in Rome. Since 2005 I have been involved in photography, today I dedicate myself full time to photojournalism as a freelancer. I also like to write: the world of self-productions and fanzines has always been the most congenial to me. I live between Bologna, Rome and Palermo.
After years of documenting the lives of individuals in insecure housing in London, a clear pattern emerges: a significant portion of this demographic comprises single mothers in either no or low-paid employment. This raises the pressing question: why are so many women and their children being failed so profoundly?
Melissa fled domestic violence, seeking refuge far from her former home. However, living in a shipping container with her three young children has aggravated her depression and anxiety, failing to provide the safety and comfort she desperately needs.
Since 2006, Francesca recounts: “I have been evicted 3 times. The first time, I was living in a private rented accommodation through Hammersmith and Fulham council. I was living with my two children and expecting a third child when I was handed over an eviction notice. I was made homeless and then the council offered me a home in East London. My only financial support was my work as a mobile hairdresser and my clients, my children’s school and everyone I could ask any support to, is living in West London, however I had no where to go. I checked the place and it was rife with crime and I did not want my children to live there so I refused. Then they looked for a place for me in the private rented sector. I was told to go to Ealing Housing Team and at first they sent me to Willesden Green to live in one room. We had to move out and had to rent a storage for all my things. I could not live there with the children going to school miles away. Everyday they were late at school and getting detention so I went back to the council and told them of these challenges and that was when I was allocated a container flat in Meath Court in west London.”
Francesca and her three young children have been evicted many times before being moved to Meath Court.
Francesca has 3 children who in their entire lives have only lived in temporary accommodations. Living in the shipping containers is very difficult with no space for any privacy. One of the children, who has asthma, sleeps in the kitchen. On the very first day they moved into the container, he had an asthmatic attack.
Families that live in the containers report their shock when they first arrived at the site, some at first not realising that the shipping containers were to become their homes.
“How could it be humanly possible that containers could be offered as homes?”
Nathalie Bangama, from Congo, with three children, moved to Meath Court after a fire destroyed her home last year. Despite living in Ealing for over 15 years, she was shocked to be offered shipping containers as housing instead of promised flats. She couldn’t believe it, knowing even in Congo, women and children aren’t housed this way.Nathalie is a single parent and she has had to strlie is a single parent and she has had to struggle with being on her own with three children and with the awful circumstances of her living conditions at Meath Court.
Similarly to many other women, Nathalie could not believe her eyes when she was given shipping containers as a home. “Even in Congo, we don’t house women and children in shipping containers.” Nathalie Bangama, originally from Congo, has three children 15 years old, 4 years old and 9 months and she ended up at Meath Court after her house caught fire. When she was given the keys to the container flat, she was crying and crying. She was told that within 6 months, she would be given a proper flat, but 2 years later she is still waiting.
Another resident of Meath Court is Melissa, a victim of domestic violence that was to be housed, in a different borough under the protection scheme. Melissa and her three small children were housed in the shipping containers. It has led her to depression and anxieties. Living in a container, it has not helped her to heal from her traumatic experiences. Instead, it is continuously making her feel unsafe and deeply anxious about herself and her children as the environment is characterized by rampant drug use, theft, and a pervasive sense of insecurity.
Like herself, many women in Meath Court have experienced sexual harassment and incidents of intimidation by drug users using the shipping containers as a space to deal, or to sleep for the night. “There was an incident of a woman falling down from the stairs and she is currently in coma – Melissa recounts. And my front door was tempered and broken, she continues- and I have taped it with a black bin bag and I am still waiting for someone from the council to come to repair it. I feel very anxious about my safety and that of my children.” Melissa’s broken door was not repaired at the time of my interview with her, weeks after the incident. Her rent is £370.55 + £19.05 service charge per week to live in shipping containers without a secure front door.
When Zara received the one-bedroom flat, she had just given birth. Her baby was only a week old. Given the top floor, she found walls riddled with bullet-like holes from the previous tenant’s mental health struggles. It was a frightening, lonely, and disheartening experience for a first-time mother.
When Zara was given the one bedroom flat she had just given birth. Her baby was one week old. She was given the last floor and one which all the walls were plastered by bullet like holes. She was told that the previous resident was suffering mental health issues and was using a hammer to bang the walls. “It felt scary, lonely and very disheartening for a first time mother who had just given birth.” Since living in the container, her wellbeing is deteriorating. She has pleaded to be allocated even in another one-bedroom in the containers, one without the violent markings on all the walls, but her pleas have gone unanswered.
Following the unanswered calls for the installment of security cameras or the placement of a security guard at Meath Court, women have resorted to create a WhatsApp group to ensure each other’s safety by sharing their whereabouts.
As policymakers and stakeholders seek solutions to London’s homelessness crisis, it is crucial to recognize and address the specific challenges faced by women. Failing to do so not only perpetuates the cycle of homelessness, but also deepens existing inequalities within society.
The question arises: why have so many women and their children been failed so miserably? Is it due to perceived vulnerability and social standing, perpetuating prejudices that hinder their access to decent living conditions?
