Bambling

Paparazzo (pä’pə-rät’sō): A freelance photographer who doggedly pursues celebrities to take candid pictures for sale to magazines and newspapers.

Do I consider myself a paparazzo? No. Definitely not. Well, I used to think definitely not. Now just not fully. Not all the time, anyway. I mean, I do other things. Really.

At what point is it a news event and at what point are we invading the lives of people in private situations? Obviously I’m not the first photog to ask this and I obviously haven’t had to deal with the problem in the most serious cases. But let’s take an instance I’ve become more familiar with over the years (and that I dealt with today, thus my thinking to bring it up): funerals.

Today I attended the funeral for Cytheria Elaine Rex, who was brutally murdered on 22 February. I don’t remember the story exactly, but the general layout is that she was (allegedly) raped by a group of tik users then murdered and then I think they cut out her intestines or something along those lines (don’t quote me - but it was rather fucked up). So ignore the crap quality of the photograph and tell me: newsworthy in the gruesomeness of the murder? Should there have been over a half dozen journalists at this funeral of maybe 150 people?

That one’s more of a question of moral guidelines to me. At some point you just have to ask when it’s appropriate to keep shooting and when you should keep taking photos. And I’ve hardly the experience to start tackling that one. It’s the ongoing question and I haven’t had to deal with the real shit situations where that decision - of when the job has to stop and the humanity has to kick in - is really serious (see: The Bang-Bang Club).

For more on the purely paparazzi side of it: J Arthur Brown’s co-accused, Jacobus Theart. This isn’t the first time I’ve done the “court” jobs (I swear I’ve shot … ahem, “taken pictures of” Marius van der Westhuizen more times than I can count), but it’s definitely the one for which I feel most paparazz-ish (Paparazz? Paparazzi-ish? Paparazzo-ish?). Seriously, running down the street with two other photogs alongside a guy who’s trying to walk as quickly as he can down the street to get away from us … makes you feel a little dead inside. So do the funerals. So do the various “paparazz”. But it’s part of the job, especially when it’s actually related to a real story. Isn’t it?

Of course, this can bring about the questions of at what point it’s acceptable to take a photograph in any extent. Take a photo of that fire that’s just starting, or wait for it to catch more? Or put it out, like a good, moral human being does? That, alas, is a discussion I rarely cherish having and, as such, I will choose to skip for tonight.