Since its origins photography has not changed except in its technical aspects, which, in my opinion, are not of great importance.
Photography seems like an easy activity; it is a diverse and ambiguous operation in which the only common denominator among those who practice it is the tool used. What comes out of that camera is not alien to the economy of a world of wastefulness, where tensions are increasingly intense and where ecological consequences are already disproportionate.
Photographing is holding your breath when all our faculties converge before the fleeting reality; it is then when capturing the image brings great physical and intellectual joy.
Photographing is putting the head, the eye, and the heart at the same point of aim.
As far as I am concerned, photographing is a way of understanding that cannot be separated from other visual means of expression. It is a way of shouting, of freeing oneself, not of proving or affirming one’s own originality. It is a way of living.
The “manufactured” or staged photography does not interest me. And if I value it in some sense, it can only be from a psychological or sociological point of view. There are those who take prearranged photographs and those who go in search of the image and capture it. The photographic device is to me like a sketchbook, the instrument of intuition and spontaneity, the owner of the instant that, in visual terms, questions and decides at the same time. To “signify” the world, one must feel involved with what the viewfinder highlights. This attitude requires concentration, discipline of the spirit, sensitivity, and a sense of geometry. The simplicity of expression is achieved through a great economy of means. One must always photograph starting from great respect for the subject and for oneself.
Anarchy is an ethic.
Buddhism is neither a religion nor a philosophy but a means that consists in mastering the spirit in order to access harmony and, by compassion, offer it to others.
1976, PDF