06 / 09 / 2008
Interview with Nina Berman
Just arrived from New York, Nina Berman accepts the interview in the patio of the hotel Pams. She is glad to talk about her job, which is one of the best ways to communicate, express ideas and feelings, since photography is a universal language. “It’s exciting to know that the pictures you take are going to be seen, analysed.”
Nina confesses she first wanted to be a writer. But when working as a professional reporter for a newspaper, she felt limited by words. "I took the camera instead".
Nina Berman is a documentary photographer interested in the American political and social landscape. Her work has been extensively published, exhibited and collected, gaining recognition in both the art and journalism communities, with awards from the World Press Photo Foundation, the New York Foundation for the Arts, and the Open Society Institute documentary photography fund. She is part of the faculty of the International Center of Photography in New York City.
At her beginnings, Nina worked on the effects of war on women, in Afghanistan. But her focus was on the United States. "I am from New York, which is a country in itself. It is easy to feel like an alien in the rest of the US when you are from New York." She spent many years working on the soldiers, especially after 9-11. Nina Berman published a monograph, "Purple Hearts - Back From Iraq" presenting a collection of portraits and interviews with U.S. soldiers wounded in the war. Her most famous picture is maybe her heart-breaking 2006 "Marine Wedding" portrait, which shows a severely disfigured marine with his young bride on their wedding day.
Since September 11, Nina has been working on the meaning of militarism, security and identity in American life. Her exhibition, "Homeland, USA", in couvent des minimes, displays Air Force bombers entertaining sunbathers on summer weekends, happy families stepping through the suburbs clutching anti-nuke pills, small town police training to hunt terrorists, and recruitment spectacles where children are transformed into smiling would-be killers. Simulation drills, that cost millions of dollars, are frequent throughout the country. War scenarios are imagined: Islamist terrorists with nuclear bombs or hijacking planes, bioterrorists, chemical terrorists, school bus or shopping mall terrorists. Nina shows her incredulity: "For me, the simulation drills are like performance art. Everybody has roles, they act. I'm not sure of the purpose. I guess the country thinks that when you can play war, you can win a war." People are taught how to respond to terrorists. The participants of those simulation drills are given a powerful sense of identity and value through a militarized experience. Nina is mainly interested in the ambiguity between real and "made up", typical of post 9-11 political discourse.
"Rather than continuing to show evidence of war, it seemed appropriate for me to now show the fantasies of war, the selling of war, and with it, the militarization of American life. It is a new industry", Nina claims before going check-in her hotel.
Marion Mozzi