What does Mercy Look Like?

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What does Mercy Look Like: Niko Koppel "Andy Rain"

The series entitled “What Does Mercy Look Like?” by Niko Koppel caught my immediately when looking at the New York Times Lens blog. The photograph that really touched me was the second photo in the series, untitled, of a woman crying. The picture itself show a small amount of subject matter, yet is extremely powerful and moving. The photo leaves me asking many questions about the woman such as, “Who is she?” “Why is she crying?” “Was there a tragedy that occurred?” and “what could she be looking at that sparked such emotions?’ The focus of the picture is on the eyes, and the forehead of the woman. The expression she is making is extremely sorrowful and humbling. There is a lot more going on in this picture than I originally thought at first glance.

The fact that this photo was shot in black and white really adds to the tone of the picture, whereas if it was in color I’m not sure the message would be as strong. What really gets me when I’m looking at this photo is the texture. The wrinkled yet soft texture of her skin, the warm knitted texture of her hat, and the smooth wet texture of her tears. Also, the lightening from the right hand side illuminates the refection in her eyes and tears, and really accentuates the pores in her skin. Another aspect that really helps bring out the content of the photo is the contrast. I think there is a great amount of tonal range from solid black to a very light gray, almost white in the photo. There are certain parts such as under her hat and in the crease where her eyelids meet her eyeballs, which are completely black. Opposite to that there are sections in the photo where the tonal range is so light, almost white. These areas are in sections of the woman’s knitted hat, as well as under her right eye. Also, pieces of reflection in her eyes are very lightly toned, which stands out a great deal near the blankness of her pupil.

The cropping or the framing of this photo are very interesting. Some may think that the fact that the photo cuts out half of the woman’s face takes away from the picture, however I would have to disagree with that. I think that the cropping of the face where the focal point is the woman’s upper half of her face with her eyes in the center really allows the viewer to focus on the emotions being conveyed through her eyes. There are many different moods that this photo provokes in me. I feel for this woman. I don’t know what happened, but the soft look in her eyes seems so truly genuine and sorrowful. The wrinkles in the forehead give her almost a hopeless expression that leaves me feeling completely remorseful for this woman after looking at this photo.

I think Niko Koppel did a wonderful job at expressing mercy and hopelessness in this photograph. I think there are many different things that make this photo strong such as the B&W, contrast, cropping, and texture, all of which I discussed earlier. This photo is a part of a series in Koppel’s “What Does Mercy Look Like?” however I feel that this picture is strong enough to stand on its own. I looked at this picture for over thirty minutes, just examining it, and feeling it out. I enjoyed his other pieces in this series, but I think this picture alone is extremely powerful in its message, and shows great despair, some of which we all have experience. We can all relate to this woman, and the emotions she may be experiencing, which truly allows me to connect with her and the photograph itself.

Ross McDonnell

Ross McDonnell, from the series "Joyrider"

      Today's New York Times Lens blog features the series "Joyrider" by photographer Ross McDonnell. "Joyrider" depicts the harsh world of Ballymun Flats, a housing project on Dublin's north side. McDonnell's image of a young man holding a fragment of a Scarface poster encapsulates the culture of drugs, violence, and tight-knit brotherhood that seems to characterize life in the Ballymun Flats.
      The photograph depicts three young men in tracksuits inside a car, while a fourth young man, in only a t-shirt, leans into the window. The man closest to the camera grips a narrow photograph of Al Pacino from the film Scarface.* The photograph is mounted on corrugated cardboard, as if it has been cut from packaging or a store display. As he presses the photograph against his upraised knee, the young man stares at it intensely, his mouth open as if in mid-thought or mid-sentence. His left hand splays across the Pacino character of Tony Montana and McDonnell sets the poster as the strongest diagonal in the image, connecting the top and bottom of the frame. Both the gesture and the angle force us to focus, along with man holding it, on a ruthlessly violent anti-hero worshipped for his criminal achievements.
      While the classic black and white tones, and even the dated poster of Scarface, create a timeless atmosphere, the tracksuits, baseball cap, and haircuts, drag the image solidly into the present. The glamorization (or at least utilization) of guns and drugs, symbolized by the Scarface poster, are not a thing of the past; they are a very real and everyday part of these young men's lives. The communal obsession with Scarface, the similarity of dress, and the close confines of the car interior tie the four men together, for better or most likely, for worse.
      McDonnell's photograph works well as part of the larger "Joyrider" series but it also stands powerfully as a single image; for me it was the most important image in the whole series. It gave me a unique insight into the Ballymun gang culture, how the icons of popular culture can help young men justify lawlessness. While McDonnell states that many of these men have moved on to more productive lives, in part due to the urban renewal of the area, in the suspended moment of this photograph they have chosen Tony Montana's future, quite literally a "dead" end.

-Professor Ray

*author's note: I have never actually seen Scarface. My description of it, as used in this entry, is based on Scarface's presence in popular culture.