The World Press Photo Exhibition gives a powerful inditement on the state of the world, a dissection on global politics and climate change. Through excellently curated photojournalism, stories of suffering are cast before us, their truths laid bare for all to see.
Stumbling into the building from Bermondsey Street, you’d be mistaken for thinking you had wandered into an abattoir or packing warehouse. A large, white-washed walled void that instantly makes you forget that you were, moments before, tootling down one of London’s hottest thoroughfares to the tune of small plates rattling and busy, wine-soaked conversations. And perhaps this is the very thing that the team behind the World Press Photo exhibition had in mind, because the content on display here could not be further away from the scene beyond its doors.
Established in Amsterdam in 1955, the World Press Photo competition collates the very best photojournalism from around the world, highlighting current affairs and drawing light on unknown troubles far and wide. Over the years, the competition has evolved into its current shape, an international touring exhibition which seeks to ‘connect the world to the stories that matter’.
The setup of the exhibition is simple, clean and straightforward. A board at the entrance explains the history of the organisation, after which you are free to roam about the space. There is no set route, no narrative to be spun. Here are the photos, here is the information, make of it what you will. The content, which covers every corner of the globe, is truly powerful, and the descriptions that accompany the images are devastatingly truthful.
Some of these stories may be familiar to us; people crowding around an aid truck in Palestine, desperate for food, or images taken inside ICE detention centres in New York, showing families ripped apart. There are Californian wildfires, polar bears and riots, all of which are captured with precision and artistry.
There are also snapshots of lesser-known current affairs. For example, a series from the Long-Term Projects category called Moon Dust, which draws attention to the residents of Egypt’s Wadi El-Qamar, a region home to 30,000 people and a cement factory, which fills their homes with toxic dust. A boy, Awady, stands looking out from a rooftop, he was born with asthma. A quote from him alongside the image says, “every day, I am afraid I won’t be able to play football again”.
Across the room, there is a piece entitled Funeral for the four of Malvinas. The image, a family bent crying over the coffin of Ismael Arroyo, a fifteen-year-old who alongside three of his football teammates, was tortured and killed by Air force personnel, mistaken for gang members. The description goes on to tell us that this is becoming more common, and that Ecuador’s militarized crackdown on transnational gangs has transformed vulnerable communities into targets for state violence.
Throughout exhibition, we hear the voices of the people in these images, who, through their own words, sum up the failings of governments, religious groups and domestic authority. They are the stories of mothers weeping for their children and animals on the brink of extinction. There is a piece highlighting the health effects of pesticide use in Argentina, and one on dolphin hunting in the Solomon Islands. There is famine and regrowth, war-torn cities and uprisings.
The variety and scope of the project is remarkable, and moving from image to image, you are met with a colossal outpouring of inhumanity and grief. There are ecocritical issues, provocations of healthcare systems, legal injustices, crime and starvation, with few photographs that could be considered hopeful. If there is an overarching theme to work, it would perhaps be neglect, from us to the earth and each other. The feeling that this exhibition evokes is hard to explain, but walking out of the building, past delis selling £8 soughdough and heritage tomatoes, seeing life go on clink by clink, the feeling strengthens.
Through the power of camerawork, the exhibition gives a snapshot of a world on fire. It is educating, damning and essential.