Vistas and Visions

National Geographic photographer and filmmaker Renan Ozturk made this surreal image of Mauli Dhan in the The Last Honey Hunter, a story published in the July 2017 issue of National Geographic. It captures the drama of this unique Nepali honey-hunting tradition. The Kulung, one of the country’s indigenous communities, believe that only those who have been visited in their dreams by the forest spirit, Rangkemi, are allowed to harvest this hallucinogenic honey. Mauli and his father were the only two people in decades to have had this special dream. Renan’s image of Mauli ascending through the smoke, which is used to deter the bees, evokes the mysterious nature of these spiritual beliefs. I love the details that emerge through the white haze: the golden, frayed bamboo rope, the giant bees – the largest in the world – which seem to pop out of the frame, the thin cloth pulled back to reveal Mauli’s grimacing face, and the partially obscured rock wall beyond. As the photo editor on this magazine assignment, I had the privilege of travelling with Renan and team to Nepal and befriending Mauli, as well as many people from his village. We thought he was nothing short of heroic, scaling hundreds of feet of homemade, untested rope which swung under his weight as he climbed towards the giant hives swarming with bees. His clothes offered no real protection from stings. From our conversations, we knew Mauli to be a complex, humble character, intent on fulfilling his destiny to harvest honey but in no way touting his otherworldly connection. Tragically, months after our story was published and a related film screened, he took his life. To our team, this evocative image took on more significance as a powerful visual tribute to Mauli and his ethereal world.

Sadie Quarrier is the deputy director of mobile storytelling for National Geographic. She leads a staff of five mobile producers creating engaging, highly produced, mobile-first stories on Instagram and the web. She has been honoured twice in the contest for Visual Editor of the Year by Pictures of the Year International.

Iceberg, Greenland
Photograph by Acacia Johnson 
Chosen by Karly Domb Sadof

I took this photo on a cold September morning in a remote fjord in Greenland, just days before the autumn’s first snowfall, while guiding a photography trip on a small expedition vessel. We rose before dawn that morning to drive our zodiacs out to a rock in the mirror-calm water, surrounded by a gallery of grounded glacial icebergs, and climbed ashore to wait. The first rays of light were a vivid, otherworldly alpenglow that slid down from the peaks into the curvatures and shadows of ice. I’ve always been entranced by the qualities of light in the Arctic, but the colours of this particular Greenlandic sunrise will stay with me forever.

Karly Domb Sadof is a photo editor at The Washington Post, currently working on the National desk. She is also a contributing writer for In Sight, The Post’s photography blog.

Wheeler Peak, Nevada, 13,159 ft
Photograph by Erik Carter
Chosen by Jolie Ruben

Erik Carter’s work strips the world of the gratuitous. Here he pares down the landscape to reveal layers of abstract forms. There is a deep sincerity in the simplicity, a conjuring of infinity in the blank horizon. The bottom half of the frame is completely absent of light. The sky is devoid of any discerning detail. Erik is forcing us to live in the in-between – in the somber shades of those pristine crags. He’s allowing us a moment to let go of minutiae and focus on the significant. Contemplating this view from the top of Wheeler Peak, Erik had an epiphany: it was time to move across the country, from New York to California. Nature, he said, gave him permission.

Jolie Ruben has been a photo editor on the Culture desk at The New York Times since 2014. She oversees visuals on Surfacing, a New York Times series that explores the intersection of art and life.

Untitled from the series ofIlluminance
Photograph by Rinko Kawauchi
Chosen by Jehan Jillani

It has been a strange year. A pandemic and an (overdue) reckoning with the United States’ deeply racist history has left many Americans – including immigrants, like myself – thinking profoundly and, hopefully, critically about our role in making this country a just, equitable place to live. In order to cope with this reckoning, I have been going on long walks in my neighbourhood, Boerum Hill, Brooklyn. While on these walks, I have been deeply comforted by the green spaces in our city, where I’ve seen spring and summer in full swing. In the months of March and April, I saw the cherry blossoms bud, and then bloom on our residential streets. In the early months of summer, I cherished the sight of peonies appearing outside bodegas and wisteria peeking over garden walls. It was – and continues to be – incredibly grounding to see nature follow its usual cycle, even when it feels like the world is falling apart. It reminds me that there is still an element of life that is pure, untouched and, unequivocally, beautiful – that there is still potential. It’s why this photograph by Rinko Kawauchi – and her body of work at large – has developed new-found meaning for me during this period. Kawauchi, who captures the beauty of everyday life, is known for her subtle, nuanced colour palette and her masterful compositions. When asked about her process in an interview with SFMOMA, she said,“It’s important to have nothing at all in my mind when taking photos,” as it helps her “capture an extraordinary moment”. She calls this ability an “unexpected gift”, adding that she was “saved a lot by small things and events when I was little”. Kawauchi’s work reminds me why these small things that she so eloquently captures can still save us, and help set us free.

Jehan Jillani is the picture and visuals editor at The Guardian US where she commissions original photography for all feature stories and special projects that come out of the NewYork, DC and Oakland offices. She also contributes to visual stories for the website at large. Prior to joining The Guardian, Jillani was a photo editor at National Geographic.

EDITED BY ALESSIA GLAVIANO

L'UOMO, October 2020