Cuando recorro su vasta obra me aparece la envidia de Centro Europa, la envidia del calado intelectual, del inmenso acervo y tradición cultural. Viendo su trayectoria, no es de extrañar que retratara lo del '68 en Praga ni que le diera luego por los gitanos de Rumanía.
La de abajo está tomada en Granada en 1971. Sabía dónde ir el niño, que ya no lo era (1938...), antes de que la bendita globalización lo gaseara todo.
Dejo estos extractos de mayo del '93 en el NYT:
But it is the Gypsy pictures that most clearly define Mr. Koudelka's darkly romantic view of the world.
[...]
But his reputation as a loner and an unconventional photographer grew
apace. For 17 years he refused to take magazine assignments, preferring
to live on an astonishing succession of grants and prizes from arts
agencies in France, Britain and the United States. "I was never paid for
anything in Czechoslovakia," he said, "so it was easy to accept not
being paid in the West. Also, I was used to a lower living standard."
[...] he has photographed what he describes as "things about to be lost, to be
finished," including heavy industry in northern France, the destruction
of the Berlin wall and bombed-out buildings in Beirut.
[...]
Like many great photojournalists, he has become himself an outsider, a Gypsy.
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