Reincarnation: Going to Virginia with a Banjo on my Knee

                                                                                                                                                        

Almost two years ago I returned to Virginia to begin freelancing. After serving three years in Abu Dhabi as a staff photographer at the English language newspaper The National I thought my career as a daily news photographer was finished. With job opportunities in the industry whittling away I was convinced that I would never work for a newspaper again. 

That said, before I left the United Arab Emirates I felt the need to document my observances of daily life so I created a visual momento of sorts. In the end I edited the images into the essay In-shallah-la-land. My plan was to possibly use the series as a promotional piece if I ever set up meetings with editors on this side of the pond. 

Fast forward to the States...

Literally less than 15 minutes after landing in Chicago via London my cell rang and I accepted my first editorial assignment as a freelancer. My goal was to hit the ground running but even this pace was a little more then I had expected. 

To be honest, I was really more concerned at building my wedding business Love Minus Zero. I felt that from a business perspective it made more sense to be a wedding photographer than an editorial photographer. It came down to numbers and I knew I would have a greater return on my investment with weddings.  

That said, I also worked at steadily building both an editorial and commercial client base. However, the girth of my energy was displaced to Love Minus Zero. Throughout my first year, I focused heavily on strictly building a presence in Hampton Roads and Richmond, VA. 

To be fair, I also kept an eye out for local publications and businesses that I felt might be able to use my services. I didn't dig too deeply, just enough to scratch the surface. Thankfully, between my wedding clients, editorial work and commercial opportunities my business plan was working, I was making more than my initial projections. Better yet, moving forward into my second year my income was growing at double the rate as my first year. 

I was grateful but there was something missing...

I assumed that a lack of creating in-depth work might hurt my spirit so during this time frame I continued to work on short and long form visual storytelling. One essay entitled Child Hope led me to Haiti where I developed a series of portraits that coupled Haitian children with their favorite item within the confines of the group home where they lived. In my essay Coming to America I spent a year documenting my son's transition back into the States after having lived more than half of his short life in a foreign country. I found it a fascinating topic and something I felt others might gain a little insight from viewing. Both projects fueled my fire but for only so long. 

Going Fishing...

A few months ago I stopped in at an office building in Norfolk, VA to meet with a creative director that I've been working with a lot lately. While I was waiting for my client to arrive I ran into The Virginian-Pilot photo editor Bill Kelley. We had a quick chat and in passing he mentioned they were looking to fill a staff photography position. I paused. Just then the elevator doors opened and my client poked her head out and smiled, I quickly  said my farewell to Bill and left. 

After my meeting, I went out to my car and called my wife to give her a heads up I was on my way home. I mentioned to her that I ran into Bill and about the job opening. As always, my wife encouraged me to pursue the opportunity - to seize the day. The next thing I know, I'm standing in front of the office doors of the photo department at The Pilot. 

The Future...

Once again I've been given the opportunity to document the history and daily on-goings of a community. What makes this region so unique and special to me is that I've spent the majority of my developmental years as a child, teenager and young adult growing up in the Seven Cities. In fact, my first real job was delivering The Virginian-Pilot many many many moons ago. 

Hampton Roads, or The Old Dominion - my pet name for the area, is by far not on my top three places to live list but I have an affinity for the people, the places and the things that make this area home. So, without further delay it gives me great pleasure to announce my new roll as a staff photojournalist at The Virginian-Pilot. 

I feel as if I've been reincarnated! 

ISTABSIR: FAITH & THE FISH

ISTABSIR is a photo column that runs weekly in The National. The title is derived from an Arabic verb which means to attentively reflect on and contemplate with respectful consideration. Unlike most photo columns The National runs a photo essay per column. Each Sunday, the series receives an entire page (w/o ads) in the news section of our publication. 

FAITH AND THE FISH

IMAGES & TEXT BY: RICH-JOSEPH FACUN

At this moment just before the sun rises and midnight black turns morning blue, sandaled men shuffle among haggling fishermen, lobbying to sell their catch at the Deira Fish Market.

A metal blade taps out an eerie rhythm, carving flesh and bones into marketable mounds of meat.

In one recent catch, there are barely signs of movement nor a struggle for life and no sense of a finite end – just a calm pattern of contracting gills. Creatures so fresh from the ocean, they continue exhaling and inhaling oxygen even after it has stopped supporting life.

Through the ages, fish has fed man on multiple levels – not just his stomach but also his spirit. The fish has religious significance in Hindu, Buddhist, and Christian traditions. In the Orient, where fish are often depicted in the form of a carp, they are regarded as sacred due to their grace, size, and lifespan.

Christians have used the ichthys to identify themselves and the Bengalis regarded the fish as a symbol of fertility. The golden fish of Buddhism represents the state of fearless suspension in samsara – meaning the birth, death, and rebirth of one’s life cycle.

In Deira, the symbols associated with fish are on the scales that weight them and the dirhams that buy them. 

Across the Emirates, fish continue to provide both nourishment and financial prosperity, remaining a source of life for generations.

SND30 AWARDS!

The National, where I am a staff photographer, recently pulled in the fourth most awards at the annual Society for News Design competition. With more than 10,000 entries from 42 countries, The National took home 47 prizes. Only the Los Angeles Times, The National Post ( Canada), and The New York Times won more. 

My photographs graced the pages of two of those 47 awards. 

One essay in the Photography: sport / Photography Staff Portfolio category 

And a single image in the News Design: sport division. 

Congrats to my colleagues at The National for their great work. 

ISTABSIR: TAXI TALES

ISTABSIR is a photo column that runs weekly in The National. The title is derived from an Arabic verb which means to attentively reflect on and contemplate with respectful consideration. Unlike most photo columns The National runs a photo essay per column. Each Sunday, the series receives an entire page (w/o ads) in the news section of our publication.

TAXI TALES

Images & Text: Rich-Joseph Facun

An orderly line of taxis fashion themselves along the road in front of Safeer Mall in Ajman. A Pakistani man in his early thirties, second in the row of cabs, leans causally against his vehicle awaiting his next fare. Sahibzada Ahmad Mehmood, is day dreaming of days not too long ago when he owned and operated a frozen food packaging plant in Pakistan. After a bomb exploded his business was left in a rubble. Mehmood recalls, “In Pakistan, I was a big man, and now I don’t feel like a big man.” 

Fast forward over a year later. Today he is peddling the streets, fare after fare, striving to meet his daily quota. Like many expatriates, he is working to support his wife and three children who remain in their homeland. 

A brief ride through the city, with Mehmood as my guide, unraveled two tales. One of man defining a new way of life and the other of the simple scenic areas throughout Ajman.  

In the Rashedya district orange compact cars, used as training vehicles for potential taxi drivers, dot the landscape. This is where Mehmood spent several months before becoming a certified cab driver. Near the GMC Hospital & Research Center new construction tucked into nooks and crannies pimple the landscape. Quietly, Mehmoods voice drifts over his shoulder and into the backseat. This is a very nice area, he assuringly stated, but the health care at the hospital is out of his price range. He must go elsewhere if he needs a doctor. 

The ride continues. At the corniche a picture perfect sky complete with puffy fairy-tale clouds complements the saturated azure water and yellow lifeguard stand. 

Mehmood gathers his thoughts and talks about having to take care in who he picks up along the beach on the weekends. Quite often some younger people don’t pay their fare. Afterwards, his voice pauses, then faintly begins again “I’m not greedy, I’m just a man who wants a respectable job.”