Israeli photographer Sephi Bergerson has been shooting Indian weddings since he first moved to the country in 2007. After publishing a book featuring weddings across communities in India, he decided to take an alternative approach for his next assignment by swapping his heavy equipment with a simple iPhone 6.
After managing to convince an 'apprehensive' family (with the help of a trusting bride), Bergerson, along with a team of six, including noted French photographer Christophe Viseux, set out for Udaipur in November where the wedding was taking place.
"The mehendi was at the Oberoi Udaivillas, sangeet at the Zanana Mahal of the City Palace, and the wedding and reception at Jagminder," he said in an interview with HuffPost India. "It was a huge wedding, and this experiment with the iPhone has never been done before. I had been waiting to do something like this, and knew it was possible with the iPhone 6s camera."
Instead of special lighting, Bergerson claims he mostly worked with the available light. Only for the dance floor did he use a hand-held LED light. "The selection and post-production were also completely done on my phone using two apps: Snapseed and Mextures. I also use FaceTune at times," he said.
Calling himself an Apple guy, Bergerson claimed that there are no special tips when it comes to shooting with a phone camera. "Photography is a language… if you have something to say, your pictures will be interesting," he said. However, he did find it quite a challenge to shoot a full wedding on the phone, although the results received a lot of praise. "I am honoured to have gained the family's trust to such an extent that they allowed me to work this way," he said, also adding that a huge advantage was the almost immediate sharing of the pictures that the phone allowed him to do. "This is not something to be taken at all for granted."
Bergerson, who is currently working on his next book based on Kenya, has already won first prize at the latest IPPAWARDS (iPhone photography awards) for this experiment, and plans to conduct many more in the future.
Check out his stunning photos below:
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"I know this is bad for my health...It may even shorten my life- span but I do hope to witness the revival of our Kashmiri art in the years ahead..."
We haven't slept; nobody has gone home since yesterday; we don't have anything to do now. We had been working on an order for a year and yesterday it was cancelled rather suddenly. The buyer refused to take it." I promptly asked why and how such a thing could happen. He answered, "I don't understand...he said he will sell machine- made shawls from Amritsar now, as he can get them in two days and earn lakhs with them."
"Weaving a carpet is a very cumbersome task...it takes ages. I used to help my husband in preparing the warp before he got a spinal problem. He used to sit and weave for at least sixteen hours a day. Now he can't weave...he is disabled. I take care of everything now: my husband, children, household and my work. I manage to earn two hundred rupees a day although an ordinary labourer earns at least four hundred rupees a day. I am fifty now and I can't sit for more than twelve hours a day on the loom. I work very hard for my family's survival," says Sharifa.
"I can't understand why girls these days don't show any interest in this. Why don't they try to learn this craft? Then when they get married they fight with their husbands over money. My husband and I work together and we earn happily for our family and ourselves. Although both of us work very hard to support our family, I don't know why I am being paid less than what my husband is paid for the same shawl," asks Sajida.
"Why are you taking my picture? I will show you some beautiful colourful shawls; click them!" As Ghulam Rasool was about to take the support of his walking aid, I interrupted, "No...I want to take your photograph; you make those masterpieces." Asking me to sit across him on a weaving bench he said, "My picture is on the shawl I weave for months. The shawl I weave is my companion; every day I spend almost fourteen hours on it. It absorbs my day's emotions into its colors. I am 90 years old and have been working for eighty- one years now. For me my life is my work, my prayers to God and weaving a shawl 'sincerely' is a medium t o offer those prayers."
"Musical instruments are very powerful... When they are played, they mesmerise everyone. I am one among many who have become prey to them. This profession is riveted with my soul now. One has to carve out the rabab from a solid block of wood. One cannot use a handsaw to cut it. It has to be done with love. When it gets moulded and when one begins to play, it can just leave one's heart pierced."
"Our house was washed away by the recent floods. We have managed to make this temporary shelter by selling five gold bangles, which we had saved for our daughter's marriage. We have to work very hard now. My daughters have already started helping us..."
"What can one do and how can one contribute if one becomes most knowledgeable about this craft without any practice? One cannot do anything unless people come and show interest in learning this craft. Nobody wants to be an artisan anymore, not even my grandchildren..."
"There was a woodcarving workshop opposite our home. I remember sitting on the windowsill, observing craftsmen work with their tools. I come from a very poor family. I never went to school. When I was eight years old, my father asked me what I wanted to do and how I could work to support our family. Since then I have been working and Alhamdulillah (thanks to the Almighty), I am satisfied as I got what I wanted. My daughter has her exams tomorrow so I have to leave. I have to buy some stationary for her..."
"I know the value of this craft. I lost my son when he was twenty-seven. He was innocent. He went out to the market to buy some yarn for his unfinished shawl. There was an encounter between the army and the militants and my son was shot dead in the crossfire. Now if I get any pleasure from anything in this world, it is only from my work. I spend most of my day in this workshop. My work is my life...I won't let this craft die, not at least by my doings. Sometimes I don't have money to buy morning bread for my family, but my conscience doesn't allow me to deceive. I don't use fake material. I know what it means to lose one's identity," re minisces Mohammad Subhan.
Source: WATCH: Israeli Photographer Shoots An Indian Shaadi On His iPhone. The Result Is Magic.
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