My favorite medium for the consumption of photographs is the photographer-authored photobook.  At their best, these photobooks provide photographers the best means to communicate a single vision or idea about a specific topic.  It should be noted that (i) many important photographers like Diane Arbus, Dorothea Lange, and W. Eugene Smith did not create their own photobooks so aren't on this list, and (ii) my taste in photobooks is highly influenced by what I was exposed to and learned from Chirs Killip.  One of my goals for the new year is to explore photobooks from a more diverse set of photographers.

*The Decisive Moment by Henri Cartier-Bresson (1952)
*The Americans by Robert Frank (1958)
*Brooklyn Gang by Bruce Davidson (1959)
*Die Deutschen by Rene Burri (1962)
*Vietnam Inc. (1971), Agent Orange (2004), Vietnam at Peace (2005) by Philip Jones Griffiths
*Gypsies by Josef Koudelka (1975)
*In Boksburg by David Goldblatt (1982)
*In Flagrante by Chris Killip (1988)
*Other Americas by Sebastiao Salgado (1985)

​Dorchester:  A Vietnamese Refugee Story is a follow-up to Mark F. Erickson's award-winning photobook Other Streets:  Scenes from a Life in Vietnam not Lived.  Erickson shares an intimate, rarely seen view of what life was like for the hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese who fled Vietnam and re-settled in the United States in the two decades after the end of the war.  Black-and-white photographs taken in Boston's largest Vietnamese community between 1991 and 1994 are centered around moments of family life, as well as capturing scenes of school, church, and community.  Erickson, born Đỗ Văn Hùng in Saigon, shares in the preface how he met those he photographed and how meeting them changed his life.

"I had the privilege of being taught by Eli Reed in school.  He went through so much bullshit as the only black member of Magnum Photos and in the wider industry as well.  He said that even though these institutions are white-dominated, and they are usually racist, don't let that stop you from doing your work.  If you let that stop you from doing your work, then they have already won." --Mary Kang

Between 1980 and 2000, the Vietnamese population in Dorchester increased from approximately 2,000 (1980 to 3,500 (1990) to over 10,000 (2000).  According to Boston Globe reports, regular violence during this period directed towards the refugees including fire bombings, car vandalization, and beatings--some fatal.  Of these, the most famous was by teenager Mark Wahlberg (Marky Mark) in 1998. 

​In 1972, I was born Đỗ Văn Hùng in Saigon, Vietnam. In the closing days of the war, as part of Operation Babylift, I was evacuated on a Pan American Airways 747 from Tan Son Nhat to San Francisco International and, after medical processing in Harmon Hall at the Presidio, to Buffalo Niagara where I was adopted in West Seneca, New York and renamed Mark F. Erickson.  

As a child, I had a natural inclination to drawing, painting, and photography. For the last, my older brother had built a darkroom in our basement, so I had access to everything I needed to learn the basics. Regarding Vietnam, I knew and thought nothing of the country and only passively learned about it from the stories America was telling itself about the war, mainly through the movies of the 1980s.  

As a student at Harvard College, I made my first Vietnamese-American friends, studied Vietnamese history from a Vietnamese perspective with Hue-Tam Ho Tai, and learned documentary photography with Chris Killip and David Goldblatt. From Killip and Goldblatt, I learned how powerful photo essays challenged the national narratives of the English (In Flagrante), the South Africans (In Boksburg), and the Americans (Robert Frank’s The Americans).  

Highly influenced by what I learned from them, I returned to Vietnam in 1993 with a manual 35mm camera, a basic tripod, and a lot of film to see my birth country with my own eyes. I spent countless days riding my gearless bicycle around Hanoi, burning images into my memory. Given that I was always seen with a tripod strapped to my back, my nickname amongst the few English-speaking foreigners was Tripod Boy. Beyond Hanoi, I traveled by bus in the north to Lang Son and Haiphong, and by train southward to Quang Tri, Hue, Da Nang, Hoi An, and Saigon, which had been renamed Ho Chi Minh City.  

Upon my return to the United States, I started the work that you now hold in your hands. Suffice it to say, it has taken a lot longer to finish than I ever imagined. So long that the world in these images no longer exists: the one after the conflicts with America (1954-1975), Cambodia (1975-1989), and China (1979), but before the rapid increase in economic development that continues to this day.  

Many excellent photo essays have been published about Vietnam, mainly about the war years. Some are powerful but also necessarily ugly, as war is without censorship from Washington or a makeover from Hollywood. This book is not about war or famous people or infamous places. Instead, it is about the beauty that I found in ordinary people doing ordinary things in ordinary places. It is a glimpse into a life I never had the opportunity to live.  

​My overall impression is that your work is strong, well-formed and cohesive. It's engaging, absorbing, and informative; you exhibit a clear technical ability alongside adeptness at story-telling.  It's the type of work that has an immediate visual draw, but then offers elements that slowly reveal themselves and linger, and that's a powerful combination. It's the type of work that I return to with anticipation...

Let's start in detail with your artist statement...I think your statement is too long. While there is a lot you wish to convey, and I can understand why, there is an art in concision, and two or three paragraphs tends to be about right. Your viewer is likely to have a short attention span, and will be eager to explore your images, and so it is important to convey what you wish...in a succinct way. Plant the seeds correctly here and they will start to grow as the viewer then moves through your images. You should consider it an introduction to your work, not an in depth analysis of it.

​Moving on to subject matter and viewpoint, or in other words the overall thematic impression of your work, your work is strong in both regards--an interesting perspective on a fascinating subject. I feel like I'm diving into the world of Vietnamese people with you, and I can feel your personality as a photographer shining through. It is clear that you have engaged with the subject deeply. This is no mean feat--it can be harder to find something new in areas that many photographers have already trodden--and so I admire it hugely...

Technique is of course fundamental, and a cover-all term for a range of elements--composition, framing and focal point, use of lines, perspective, layers and negative space...You exhibit a very good technique which is a joy to review. Your style of composition is simple and immediate. I'm particularly drawn to [Badminton Players] for example where the elements combine effortlessly. You display a real command for your camera, but there's a level of uniqueness and personal style that shine through too. I feel like a particular photographer took these, rather than any photographer. You employ a fantastic use of light and shadow--capturing such a range of tones effectively is easier said than done [Coal Worker for example]. I also admire the way you capture subjects in motion and create amazing snapshots. Post-processing can be divisive, but your use of it is elegant and strengthens each image, rather than overpowering them. Well done!

And finally on to image sequencing and editing, which although I'm discussing last, is something often overlooked but fundamental to the ways in which your work will be interpreted by the viewer. By carefully considering the order in which your images are viewed you guide the viewer on a journey--perhaps a chronological one, or one that ebbs and flows, or one that's jarring. It's a subtle, but powerful tool for influencing how a viewer interacts with your work.

I think further consideration is needed. While you may or may not have started about sequencing and editing, it strikes me as something you should reflect on more deeply. There's no clear narrative or flow from image to image. How do you wish to guide the viewer, and what rhythm do you want to create? I don't get a sense that this has been considered. You avoid too much visual repetition but there seems to be no narrative to your series. You may wish to start the viewer in one place and leave them somewhere totally different...You may also want to think about initial and final impact. Or in other words, starting and ending with your best images in order to make your viewer want to see more from the start, and leaving them with a strong impression at the end. I feel that images [Man with Monkey and Sugarcane Mongers] are the strongest--if you agree, think carefully about where you position them.

ARTIST RESPONSE

I thought this was a very thoughtful review and take to heart the two biggest criticisms. First, I have created a shorter Artist Statement (see below) which is more appropriate for an exhibition (rather than the longer introduction to my book which I have been using). Second, I really do struggle with sequencing. It took many, many, many iterations over many months for me to finally sequence my book in a way that worked cohesively and made sense to me. Facing the need to select only 15-20 images and re-sequence them for an exhibition is something that still needs work.

In 1972, I was born Đỗ Văn Hùng in Saigon, Vietnam. In the closing days of the war, as part of Operation Babylift, I was evacuated on a Pan American Airways 747, adopted in western New York, and renamed Mark F. Erickson. Growing up, I knew and thought nothing of Vietnam and only passively learned about it from the stories America was telling itself about the war, mainly through the movies of the 1980s.
 
As a student at Harvard College, I made my first Vietnamese-American friends, studied Vietnamese history from a Vietnamese perspective with Hue-Tam Ho Tai, and learned documentary photography with Chris Killip and David Goldblatt. From Killip and Goldblatt, I learned how powerful photo essays challenged the national narratives of the English (In Flagrante), the South Africans (In Boksburg), and the Americans (Robert Frank’s The Americans).

​In 1993, I returned to Vietnam with my manual 35mm film camera to see my birth country with my own eyes. Through these images of ordinary people doing ordinary things in ordinary places, I had a glimpse into a life I never had the opportunity to live. And twenty-five years later, it is also a glimpse into a Vietnam—now transformed by rapid economic growth—that no longer exists.