Creative Visions is pleased to offer the sale of limited-edition prints of "A Changing Afghanistan" taken by Andrew Xenios. Go here.

Afghanistan—a country at the crossroads of Eastern and Western Asia—has always been culturally diverse. Now the country is attempting to redefine itself for the twenty-first century after years of political turmoil: women are pushing for equal rights after the 2001 overthrow of the Taliban, while technology is being incorporated into the traditional patterns of an old society to unite the country. As part of our DOCFEST07, the Paley Center is looking at the work of two artists who are elucidating the social and technological changes in Afghanistan.


Photographer Andrew Xenios captures both the change and timelessness in Afghan society with telling detail. Having spent time in Kabul and its environs, he sees evidence of modern media everywhere: the selling of computers and televisions in the busy, traditional marketplace; a cell phone call in the ancient streets; a digital camera capturing the haunting landscape. As importantly, Xenios surveys the expressive faces of the city and finds a people ready to surmount the turbulence and destruction. There is a resourceful determination in the eyes of Kabul's women, desirous for change. Even in the faces of the most desolate—the orphans—hope can be detected amid the suffering.

Jamila Emami is a young filmmaker who is illuminating the struggle for women's rights in Afghanistan. She is the founder of Women's Eyes Media, a nonprofit organization that exposes social problems, promoting female freedom of expression. Emami was a member of the first-ever team of female video journalists who documented the struggle for equality in post-Taliban society; their efforts can be seen in the acclaimed Afghanistan Unveiled, which has been cited as "a revelatory and profound reminder of the independent media's power to bear witness and reveal truth." This film will be screened at 12:15 on October 28, and can be seen at any time through the library on the 4th floor.


War-torn Afghanistan remains one of the world's poorest nations. But filmmaker Jamila Emami and photographer Andrew Xenios alert us to a resilient people ready to engage the possibilities of the future.

Ron Simon
Curator
The Paley Center for Media





In the Taffner Gallery on the Second Floor:

Photographing Afghanistan

When Caroline Firestone, President of the New Hudson Foundation, picked me up that brisk, beautiful January morning and headed for the airport, I found myself looking out of the car window at the pristine, perfect shapes of New York's skyline.

I wondered what was in store for us in this little country so infamously spread across our news headlines. Most of my friends thought I was automatically going to be killed. Obviously this was a little unsettling for me and I tried to quickly put this far back into the corner of my mind.

When we arrived at the Kabul airport and I took one look around, I thought I was automatically going to be killed.

With the last orderly images of New York still fresh, I thought I had landed in the most disorganized, monochromatic place on the planet. Plus, it was freezing cold. To think "physical security" was out of the question because everyone had a gun—a big gun—and they were all loaded. My mood immediately shifted into survival; I sat back thinking, "Be patient and confident."

Then, "Afghanistan" began appearing before my eyes, unfolding like a newborn baby. As war-torn as the place was, the people surfacing around me—from house cleaners to fish vendors, farmers, drivers, senators, governors, clerics, princesses, and kings—all displayed the same characteristics: gentleness, kindness, hospitality.

In the middle of the shelled city with bullet holes in almost every standing wall, you could still feel the ironies, the ambiguities, the oxymoronic scenes that contributed to a life of vibrations, excitement, and a strange feeling of inner peace. Yet, at any moment, like waiting for that final California earthquake, things can suddenly turn black and white, melt before your eyes. With these thoughts in their minds, it appeared that the Afghans share among themselves the shocks of the past as well as the constant pressures of the present. They are very prepared for each day. Very few look into the future.

For us here in the United States, it seems like we have forgotten about sharing our pains. It seems like we have forgotten the past, don't think too much about the present, and constantly look toward the future. We seem a little complacent.

In the end, I was left with an odd feeling of inner peace in all this uncertainty and a strong feeling of having lived an immediate life. There was a certain inexplicable thrill to this. When I saw the Kabul airport out my small oval window passing the wing and moving out of sight, I said to myself, "I am going to miss Afghanistan."

Andrew Xenios