Ta Nea (People Insert, 2000)

Magnum Photos, founded about 50 years ago by the great photographer Henri Cartier-Bresson and a few of his significant photojournalist friends, operates in the photographic world like a legend. The dream of most photographers working for the press is to become partners in it someday.

It is a fact that many good photographers have passed through this agency and also a fact that today there are some outstanding creators in its ranks. However, if by this term we mean photographers whose work transcends the boundaries of journalistic commentary and touches on those of art, then the horizon necessarily narrows.

Magnum has always been characterized by two tendencies, remnants of its initial composition. On one hand, there was the pure journalistic school, expressed at its founding by the famous reporter Robert Capa and the also notable George Rodgers, and on the other hand, the artistic expression of photography, represented by Cartier-Bresson. Magnum, which is notably a commercial company with photographers as its shareholders, tried to maintain a balance by accepting two kinds of photographers: the pure professionals who know how to 'cover' an event so that the photos are 'sold' in various prints, and those whose notable (and commercially usually useless) artistic work will maintain the high reputation of the agency’s good name.

The not always hidden desire of most of the agency's members has been and is to secure a share from both sides of success. After all, especially for professional photographers, fame and money go hand in hand. And the excessive reputation of some, not always the best, members of the agency could influence the others, especially in a field where the artistic "ego" of the shareholders exceeds the collective interest of the commercial company.

Another characteristic of Magnum is the obsession with photographing the third world, particularly preferring its most miserable aspects. This obsession, of course, fits into the commercial trend of the agency, since the magazines, which are its main customers, usually publish topics with such content, even if they are fashion or lifestyle magazines. However, the 'Magnum' photograph is also characterized by certain formal elements common to many of its photographer-partners. Black and white images, with high contrast and coarse grain, shot with wide-angle lenses with a tendency for exaggeration of distortion, and with many impressive elements that fill the frame suffocatingly and unfortunately very often without any discernible reason. This aesthetic (along with the above topics) has greatly influenced journalistic photography and the general public's view of what is considered quality journalistic photography.

Many photographers have left Magnum for economic interests and egos, but many extremely important ones remain. Among them, with purely personal criteria, I would distinguish the American Bruce Davidson, who is constantly renewing and surprising us, the unknown and almost vanished Chilean Sergio Larrain, the rightfully famous Czech Josef Koudelka, whose artistic nature is proven by his desire to break free from his own photographic standardization, and it does not matter if this sometimes leads to unsuccessful results. Certainly, a few more could be added as this enumeration is indicative and does not constitute a list. Among the good ones, however, there are also two notable Greek photographers. Konstantinos Manos, born in America, resident of Boston, and a member of Magnum since the '70s, and Nikos Economopoulos, who has been a full member of the agency for several years. We will have the opportunity to extensively deal with Manos, as the Benaki Museum is preparing a large solo exhibition for him at the end of the year, along with the reissue of his very important book "The Greek Portfolio."

Nikos Economopoulos, whose yearning for years was to join the Magnum agency, a membership he achieved after persistence, hard work, self-sacrifice, and a lot of work, naturally bears traces of all the above Magnum peculiarities and weaknesses. However, his undeniable talent allows him to control them, often to avoid them, and sometimes to turn them to his advantage. After joining the agency, we had the luck to see three of his photographic albums. And I say luck because there are not many Greek photographers who strive (with their own or others' means) to publish books with their work, although it is the best way to exist and to communicate with the public.

Economopoulos' photographs were little known before his first book "Balkans." That (along with several publications in magazines) made him more widely known and secured an audience for him. A few months ago, his third major monograph, "The Coal Miners," was released. In the meantime, a very small album accompanied by a CD with songs by Dimitra Galani had been released.

In "Balkans," the most structured and cohesive photographic view of Economopoulos is concentrated. Control of formalist audacity and always a strong central cohesive axis of the image, both in terms of form and content. However, I was impressed that among his best photographs were also about a dozen of his oldest, those published in his first participation in a group publication, in the collection-album with photographs of members of the "Photographic Circle," released by "Gnosis" editions in 1989. Perhaps this means that that pre-professional innocence marked a significant period.

Economopoulos works professionally and is therefore obliged to search for topics that are at least indirectly related to current events or herald them. His photographs need to be sold and at the same time to constitute, at least some of them, part of his work. This dual goal, which constitutes, as mentioned, an element of division for the entire Magnum agency, finds the best possible balance in Economopoulos. And the comparison with more prominent tenors of the agency shows that Economopoulos much less often sacrifices his personality to the dictates of photojournalistic populism. Nevertheless, I cannot help but think that an Economopoulos who would combine the persistence of the professional and the freedom of the amateur would work wonders, both in the selection of his topics and in their handling. What is needed, however, is a stricter final selection of the images he wishes to constitute his personal work.

His last book, "The Coal Miners," is, as I understood, commissioned by DEI. However, I could not confidently categorize it within Economopoulos' work. If it must be considered a commercial job, then, regardless of how useful DEI may find it, it far exceeds the average. But if it is part of the photographer's personal (artistic) work, then I find that Economopoulos relied on his undeniable ease, which allows him never to do bad work, but he did not avoid the usual Magnum sins. Formalistic constructions, lack of a central axis, and mainly the feeling that all the photographs are but many versions of an initial one. The surprise and the photographer's participation are missing. The indulgence and tolerance of all those who love a photographer must be unlimited in front of works of lesser significance. As long as they appear as attempts for necessary creative deviations, and as samples of aesthetic audacity and alternation. I did not have this feeling with "The Coal Miners." On the contrary, the small book with the CD, which understandably went rather unnoticed, contained several very notable photographs of Economopoulos, with subjects unusual for the framework of his overall work, handled with simplicity and sensitivity. This deviation may yield much for him in the future.

Finally, I feel the need to comment on the publishing and typographic quality of Economopoulos' books, which, while not condemnable, falls short of the quality of his photographs and does not enhance them. I am also not sure if the excessive and unjustifiable grain of his photographs (particularly evident in "The Coal Miners") is due only to the photographs or also to their reproductions. But mostly, I wish to categorically oppose a practice that not only Economopoulos but also many Magnum photographers and others of similar subject matter and aesthetics use. I refer to the habit of occupying one and a half or more pages with their photographs, so that the enlargement of the photograph takes the largest possible dimensions in the development of the editorial "salon." I suppose that in this way they want to lend intensity to the photograph, while what is achieved is the dispersion of its unity. At the very short distances required for reading a book, the eye better captures the single-page photograph and more accurately appreciates its composition. Besides, it also sets the tone of seriousness of the photographic work and the photographic book, keeping distance from the journalistic setup of newspapers and magazines.

The presence of Economopoulos in the field of Greek photography is a great gain. And I believe that after his professional establishment and international recognition, Economopoulos will allow himself a deeper exploration of his possibilities. I must also congratulate Indiktos editions and their inspirer, Kostas Ordolis, for supporting with their work what few have realized, that the photographic artistic history is written through books."

Plato Rivellis

“Balkans” (Photographs by Nikos Economopoulos), Libro Publications, 1995

“Breath, the Art of the Heart” (Dimitra Galani - Lina Nikolakopoulou, Photographs by Nikos Economopoulos), Produced by PolyGram, 1996

“Lignite Miners” Nikos Economopoulos, DEI, Indiktos Publications, 1998

Photo Captions: Nikos Economopoulos, From the book “Breath, the Art of the Heart” (Nos. 1-2-3), From the book “Balkans” (Nos. 4-5)