When I was a kid, the men around me didn’t talk about love. They proudly shared their “love” of sports and bar fighting but anything about real love, the love we desire from our families, friends or romantic partners, was said in whispers, if at all. This was uncomfortable for me. I longed painfully for the love of my father, who was divorced from my mother and distant both physically and emotionally. I craved my mother’s love too who, despite her closer proximity, loved me in ways that felt fraught and confusing. The concept of “self love” hardly existed then, and mine languished against the failing grades, suspensions and rebuke that grew out from my emotional hunger. It was a destructive cycle that I was fortunate to escape. Others did not.
I carried these memories into adulthood and they’ve encouraged me to photograph the world with an interest in men and masculinity. I didn’t always talk directly about love with the men I photographed but many of our conversations point to it like a flashing neon sign. If I listen sincerely and patiently to almost any man, I often learn that “anger” is a temperamental scar over wounds related to love and care; wayward fathers, listless mothers or belief that his worth corresponds not to his being but to his offerings. For many of us, these most vulnerable and complex feelings were flattened to anger, the catch-all masculine expression. But for the sake of ourselves and others, we must begin to talk more openly, and that means confronting love.
In recent years, I’ve partnered with the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom to hold photography contests addressing various aspects of masculinity. Established in 1915 during the height of the First World War, they are the oldest women’s peacebuilding organization in the world. They have long made demands on men in power and more recently begun working with men in conflict affected countries. This year, amidst raging wars in Ukraine, Sudan, Myanmar, Gaza, the Democratic Republic of Congo and elsewhere, we selected the theme of Men and Love.
A jury of leading visual thinkers included Sarah Leen, the former Director of Photography at National Geographic Magazine, Azu Nwagbogu, a curator and founder of the Lagos Photo Festival, Gael Almeida, the Executive Director of the National Geographic Society in Latin America, and the acclaimed photographers jahi chikwendiu and Ismail Ferdous. We pored over submissions from over 30 countries while discussing masculinity, power, culture and love.
The jury awarded top recognition to Micha Serraf for his beautiful, dynamic portraits that blur the line between fine art and documentary photography. Serraf created a “thoughtfully staged photo essay that reveals intimacy between man and himself and other men without overt carnal connotations,” explained juror Azu Nwagbogu. The restraint and ambiguity of Sarraf’s work invites viewers to question entrenched assumptions about the nature and possibility of male expression and connection.
The jury also recognized Matthieu Paley for his luminous and intriguing pictures of Sufi pilgrims in Pakistan who regard themselves as “warriors of love.” Paley’s images and project statement encourage us to consider the male psyche and its relationship to love, the environment and one another. The jury also selected three extraordinary single images for honorable mention by photographer’s Cem Genco, Slava Novikov and Mouneb Tiam who each offer insightful and challenging meditations on men and love, particularly in times of war. These works are slated for exhibition later this year.
The Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom hosts these collaborations because the organization is committed to supporting men in becoming agents for peace rather than war. With such goals in mind, we must evaluate the garden in which our societies have grown male warriors for millenia. We must ask if we have encouraged male tenderness and cooperation or, in a world of finite resources and greed, have we rewarded something fiercer?
I’ve spent much of my photographic life documenting men in fierce situations. Many were involved in wars, where their bodies were employed at the granular level of power. Stuck in the elements, they were tasked with enacting and enduring the brutality for which men have become notorious. But many were also tender and broken, not only by the horrors of war, but by the harsh emotional realities of their lives. Since then, it has been my aim to better understand the male emotional landscape, a challenge I confront both out in the world and within my own heart. I am honored to work alongside these exceptional photographers who have each made sensitive, thoughtful and nuanced contributions to this important discussion.
