Christian Bobst. Kullu Valley, India. 2009. Reflection.

“Luxury,” says British essayist Pico Iyer, “is a function of scarcity.”

In Mumbai – where the clamor of construction begins outside my bedroom window at four a.m. and where my neighbors watch me do living-room yoga to the backdrop of pigeon squawks – luxury is

space

and quiet.

In Bombay, high-rolling clubs like Breach Candy and Bombay Gymkhana afford the city’s wealthy and their expatriate guests such luxuries as space for swimming pools the size of intersections and shrubbery planted solely to block out the racket of traffic.

Upon first glance, the life of Christian Bobst’s monk seems luxurious to someone like me. And I imagine many Mumbaikers deprived of space and tranquility would feel the same. But after reflecting on the photo’s backstory, I see the discipline and sacrifice required for the monk to live this way.  And I wonder, if Christian Bobst’s monk were to look at a photo of me banging away at my white-collar job in a new seventh-floor apartment, would he see a picture of luxury, or something else? 

- Mark 

FREE ART - Nuru Project is giving away a free 20” x 24” Christian Bobst print if our Twitter following grows to 2000 by Friday as part of Social Media Week in NYC. Promote @NuruProject using #SMWnuru to be eligible. Watch a video with more info here.

Mark Hand is an Investment Associate at First light Ventures, which invests in young social enterprises in India. He is especially proud of his new leather-sole Dan Post western boots.

“I followed this girl out into the water during Pongal, the Tamil New Year festival. She was one of thousands if not millions, that day on Chennai’s Marine Beach, the second longest in the world. On the third and final day of the festival, families throng to the beaches, irrespective of socio-economic class. She was having a personal moment away from the crowds and was unaware of me.”

As I soak in Kirk Mastin’s print, the world population is surging past 7 billion.  India is on pace to become the most populous nation in the world, surpassing China within the next generation.  Our global community is becoming increasingly urbanized and inter-dependent, with growing demands to stay ‘connected’.  My life feels as though it is under constant attack from information and ideas on all sides.  I’m not complaining.  I love it actually.  It’s stimulating. 

Yet, looking on as this woman enters The Ocean I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous.  The place where she stands is a sacred place – where water meets the land – and one of my favorite places in the world.   As a waterman – a swimmer, surfer, and diver – I have a love affair with The Ocean.   It is my place of refuge.  It is my sanctuary from the blistering pace of life digitalized and globalized.  It is the place where I prefer to go when I desperately need to think clearly.  When Mastin writes in his backstory, “She was having a personal moment away from the crowds and was unaware of me,” I knew the feeling exactly.  It happens every time I enter The Ocean and get a quiet reprieve from the near-constant connection.

In Kirk Mastin’s print I see the duality of my own existence. The earthy sand being churned by an energetic sea mirrors the gentle colors of the clothes wrapped around this woman’s dark skin and hair.  The Ocean draws me into my own mind and then back to shore, and my other reality, again.  I feel the “thousands, if not millions” as I leave them behind; but I know I’ll be back because I love the hectic squalor – check my messages, leave an update, schedule that meeting, prepare this presentation, scan the news – of my daily life as a teacher, husband, colleague, and friend in the information age.

As an educator, I do my best to prepare my students for our 21^st century online world. Working with Nuru Project, I can virtually bring my humanities students to New York, around the world, and back into their own lives with engaging projects in photojournalism.  We use Skype to connect with other learners and experts around the world, and share our thoughts and images using various social media and web platforms.  The 14 and 15 year-olds in my class hardly take notice of the whirlwind pace of things. They’re actually far too comfortable if you ask me.  I also want them to know the great power of solitude: the peace and wisdom that can come from being alone with your own thoughts; the true nature of The Ocean, and all of Nature’s other elements; and the knowledge that when we enter The Ocean alone it is “irrespective of socio-economic class” or any other divisions we have created back in our communities. I want to introduce them to the woman in this image.  I want them to remember to stand where she stands.

- Danny

At Nuru Project, we connect photojournalism with causes. Consider benefiting Acumen Fund at checkout with your Kirk Mastin print purchase. Acumen Fund invests in Indian entrepreneurs who are building businesses that provide services like housing, water, and healthcare to the poor. You can see this print in person next Wednesday, 11/9 at our Dignity NYC photo auction in support of Acumen Fund.

Danny Kinzer is a teacher at the Kaohsiung American School in Taiwan. He is a surfer, an avid traveler, a lover of kids, and an extremely tall individual. Nuru Project CEO JB Reed has been teaching students in Danny’s humanities class about photojournalism via Skype.

Zackary Canepari’s print from Kathputli brings to mind a film-in-the-making about the neighborhood, Tomorrow We Disappear. Producers Jim Goldblum and Adam Weber:“Since the 1970s, Delhi’s magicians, puppeteers, and acrobats have called the tinsel slum, Kathputli Colony, home. Last year the government issued relocation permits to the colony residents; the slum is to be bulldozed, cleared for development. High-rises and a shopping mall are planned in its place. In its modernizing, the world is losing places like Kathputli, and no one notices.”

As developing world cities grow at rapid rates, slums proliferate and the ranks of poor urban dwellers swell. While slums are known for their substandard housing, they often provide residents with proximity to jobs and services, and in the case of Kathputli, an artistically rich local culture. But because slum dwellers are often squatting illegally (although they pay rent to slumlords), they live in constant peril of eviction.

Because Canepari created these images before the current government plan, the beauty that his images capture and the reverence with which he describes Kathputli’s ‘cycle of tradition’ in his handwritten Backstory (below) are rendered bittersweet. The combination of all the white - the beard, the cuff, the bird - and the sense of depth created by his soft focus that would usually convey serenity and purity now begin to evoke melancholy.

In the end, Canepari’s image preserves a quiet yet magical moment from this community on the brink of its final vanishing act.

- Christina 

Our mission at Nuru Project is to connect photojournalism with causes. We’re suggesting that buyers of Zackary Canepari’s print select Acumen Fund as the benefit organization at checkout. Acumen Fundhelps break the cycle of poverty by funding businesses that provide health, water, energy and agriculture services to the poor in India.

Christina Lappas is an alum of the New School’s Graduate Program in International Affairs. She has an eye for photography and a curiosity for urban processes.