Without calculation...
That, at least, is how Sherif Sonbol says he takes his photographs. The images he produces, however, make the formulation a little hard to believe. Following a hugely successful five-week exhibition of his work at the Lincoln Centre in New York he talks to Nigel Ryan about his metamorphosis from insurance underwriter to award winning photographer
"I became a photographer by accident. I was a marine underwriter: I studied insurance at Cairo University and then went to the Chartered Insurance Institute in London, then began working in the Egyptian Reinsurance Company. And I would sit at my desk, trying to work. Then one day there was a big fight in the corridor so I went out to find out what was happening and there was the general manager holding the chief of the syndicate in the air. The syndicate man wrote a complaint to the chairman, saying that I witnessed the incident. The chairman called them both to his office and told them that they should be friends, and of course they patched up whatever the difference was, after which the general manager came to me and said, how dare you say that you will be a witness against me, and that was the end of my career in insurance. Not that I minded. Sitting behind a desk is not something I enjoyed.
"I'd been interested in photography for some time, I'd been taking photographs, not seriously but it was something I wanted to do. So I went to the photography section at Al-Ahram, and met Antoun Albert who was, incidentally, a friend of my by now ex- general manager, and he agreed to let me freelance for a while. Then after a few months he decided that I could be taken on full time.
"At that point there was only the daily Al-Ahram, and Al-Ahram Al-Iqtisadi. And there were about 15 full-time photographers, and no outlets. The first page was always presidential pictures, and there was little opportunity elsewhere. Photographs were the least of anyone's priorities. Then the then editor of the back page, Amal El-Bakir, decided that she wanted a daily photograph on her page, just a nice picture, nothing really specific, just a pretty image. So suddenly I had three of four photographs a week appearing on that page, which meant that my name began to be known, which was good. But the crux came when my wife was pregnant. She wanted a pressure cooker, and I wanted her to have what she wanted, so I collected my salary from Al-Ahram and went off to buy the thing and guess what: my entire monthly salary would not buy the cooker, and I thought this has to change.
"At the time the American Embassy was looking for a photographer, it was a new position and I applied, and got the job, but it meant that I had to resign from Al-Ahram. So I did, only to be told that the new position had suddenly been cancelled. I was in a fix. My wife was pregnant and I was about to find myself without a job through no fault of my own. I explained the whole situation to the personnel manager at the embassy, and she did her best, and suddenly I found myself in the computer department of the embassy, initially being trained and then training people myself. I'd found myself behind a desk again, a place I didn't want to be, though I stayed there for four and a half years. At the same time I was also working in the evenings taking photographs for the Opera House, something I'd done since it first opened its doors. Eventually I resigned from the embassy, by which time Al-Ahram Weekly was up and running.
There is a tendency, within newspapers here, certainly, for journalists to look at photographs as if they are some sort of supplementary option, as if the photographer is there to service whatever they want to write. I remember one assignment in particular, years ago. I went with a journalist who was writing something about the zoo on some feast day. And the journalist said to me that he wanted a photograph of a very short child feeding the giraffe. I told him that the photograph would be silly, that there were no short children feeding the giraffe and he said it didn't matter, that's what he wanted. So I suggested that maybe he write in his story that short children were feeding the giraffe and he said no, I want the picture. I told him to shoot the photograph himself.
"As far as newspapers are concerned the Weekly was always a bit exceptional in that it would make room for pictures. And magazines, too, they depend more heavily on images and are therefore a bit more considerate. But as regards daily papers, the attitude is much the same as when I first started. The photographer is the junior partner, and he must do as the reporter tells him, regardless of whether the result will be a convincing image, let alone a striking one. When I started at the Weekly, the editor-in-chief, Hosni Guindy, was very supportive. He would take a dance photograph and spread it across seven columns or so, something unheard of in the local press.
"Far more typical, though, was the experience I once had while working at a magazine. The managing editor said to me, Sonbol, we're very happy you are working with us, and I want great pictures. We are not going to print those stamps you see everywhere, we just want great images. And after working there for a while, and seeing the results, guess what? They kept publishing those silly little postage stamp-sized head and shoulder pictures and nothing else. And then he said to me Sonbol, we can't give you more than two credits per issue. So there I was, the only photographer on the magazine, covering 20 stories an issue, and they tell me they can only acknowledge two pictures. So I said, at least let me choose which photographs you credit. And they said no, that's our prerogative. It's sadly typical of the attitude towards photographers here. Oh, and of course, they love to cut up images, those little cut out figures all over the place. Or else place one picture on top of another on top of another, and this is supposed to be good layout.
"What happens to photographs in the press here is a sad story. And then when there are sporadic attempts to upgrade photography they have nothing to do with the images produced: for instance, suddenly a rule is introduced demanding that all photographers employed must have college degrees.
"Let me tell you a story. When I first started working at Al-Ahram I went to the Faculty of Applied Arts and said that I would like to take some courses, and they looked at my papers and said, no, you graduated from the Faculty of Commerce, you can't study here. Some time later I had an exhibition, and the head of the photography section at the faculty came, and he liked my work and said he would love me to come and lecture to students in the photography section at the Faculty of Applied Arts. I said, but actually I need to study, can I come and study. And he said no, you graduated from the Faculty of Commerce, you can't study. So I can teach with my papers but I can't study, which seems a little strange to me.
"And the result of these hidebound attitudes is to strangle any photographic culture here. It results in photographs in expensively produced architectural and interior magazines where the walls appear to be falling down because nobody thinks it is important for them to be straight. And they blow the bad photograph across two pages because nobody thinks it matters, or nobody knows it is bad. The local press does not employ photo editors. It is not a position that exists. And it should, even if they have to import them.
"My exhibition in New York, well that had a long genesis. Some time ago I spoke to Magda Saleh, the first chairperson of the Opera House. I told her at the time that I would like to go to New York, perhaps to give a talk on photographing dance, though really my motive was that I wanted to see the city. She spoke to the New York Public Library of the Performing Arts at the Lincoln Centre, and showed them my photographs, and they said OK, we'll have an exhibition. But the gallery spaces, there are three of them, were fully scheduled for several years, and so they decided to stage the show at the entrance to the library, which was an excellent location, and meant that everyone entering the building would see my work. And so I pieced together bits of funding from here, there and everywhere, and then Magda got more funding from the Egyptian expatriate community in New York, and off I went.
"The people who came were remarkably well informed, and asked a great many questions, quite technical questions, the kind of things I find it difficult to answer. I find what I do a simple thing; sometimes I feel I'm not really doing anything. I take pictures. It is not an engineering job, you don't sit there and make pages and pages of calculations. I see the image with my eyes, it is there, just waiting for me to shoot, and I shoot. What I do is with the camera, everything you see in the finished image was there when I press the button. I never play with the image, never superimpose or double expose or darken bits. I couldn't think of it. Just click and...that's it.
