Women and War

Rating:
Summary: A picture IS worth a thousand words
Review: This is an absolutely stunning collection of photographs that explore the effects of war upon the women of the world. Snapped in Africa, Asia, the Americas, Europe, and the Middle East, Matthew's cameos evoke fear, rage, determination, eros, absurdity, horror, humor, despair, hope.

The cover offers a photo of a young Ethiopian freedom fighter hoisting a rifle over her shoulders. Her hips are askew, an ammunition belt draped around them. There's something uncannily innocent about the image; one could easily imagine that the young woman is dressed in the latest punk fashion and on her way to a club. But open the book to the first full-page photograph inside the covers, and Matthews quickly disabuses us of any urge to romanticize war. The photo is an in-your-face portrait of Phuong, an eight-year-old Vietnamese girl who was born without eyes because her mother was poisoned years earlier by Agent Orange.

The rest of the photos follow this initial template of drawing stark contrasts between images of beauty and images of horror. One of the most memorable contrasts is midway through the book. One page shows stacks and stacks of weapons. The opposing page shows stacks and stacks of human bones, remains of genocide victims.

The text is minimal. In a book such as this, the photographs should speak for themselves. Trust me: they do.

Rating:
Summary: A picture IS worth a thousand words
Review: This is an absolutely stunning collection of photographs that explore the effects of war upon the women of the world. Snapped in Africa, Asia, the Americas, Europe, and the Middle East, Matthew's cameos evoke fear, rage, determination, eros, absurdity, horror, humor, despair, hope.

The cover offers a photo of a young Ethiopian freedom fighter hoisting a rifle over her shoulders. Her hips are askew, an ammunition belt draped around them. There's something uncannily innocent about the image; one could easily imagine that the young woman is dressed in the latest punk fashion and on her way to a club. But open the book to the first full-page photograph inside the covers, and Matthews quickly disabuses us of any urge to romanticize war. The photo is an in-your-face portrait of Phuong, an eight-year-old Vietnamese girl who was born without eyes because her mother was poisoned years earlier by Agent Orange.

The rest of the photos follow this initial template of drawing stark contrasts between images of beauty and images of horror. One of the most memorable contrasts is midway through the book. One page shows stacks and stacks of weapons. The opposing page shows stacks and stacks of human bones, remains of genocide victims.

The text is minimal. In a book such as this, the photographs should speak for themselves. Trust me: they do.