Ben Blushi: Conversation about photography with Burim Mufti

Hundreds of shots have turned out to be broken, out of focus or without the right light, because of his technique that I still don't master well. Although it is not his fault, but mine, I have decided to replace this beloved camera after passing more than 50 thousand shots.

On the occasion of the Prishtina fair, where the book 41 Secrets is also available, I am publishing a conversation about photography as well as a photo of my friend, the well-known Kosovar photographer Burim Myftiu, part of 41 Secrets.

Burim Muftiu is a photographer from Kosovo. He invited me to meet at the Preza fortress, where he had never been.

When we met, we both took out our cameras like two cowboys presenting their guns to each other and placing them on the table. Just in case.

The source had a small Sony that looks like a razor, and I have my used Nikon that looks like a machine gun that to this day has not threatened anyone but me.

Hundreds of shots have turned out to be broken, out of focus or without the right light, because of his technique that I still don't master well. Although it is not his fault, but mine, I have decided to replace this beloved camera after passing more than 50 thousand shots.

I also wanted to have a conversation about cameras, their technique and photographs with Burim Mufti. I went to Preze at midday, when the sun had just gone west, so that we could both get better pictures of the planes over the Rinas in the east, including each other.

After taking some photos of the people following the planes landing and taking off like insects in the smog of Tirana and making out with a beggar smoking used cigarettes, we started talking.

When did you start taking pictures, I asked.

I have almost 30 years, said Burimi.

What is your profession?

I studied literature and English language and I translated for the American army in Kosovo.

How did you learn photography?

Just a passion, but I have taken several courses and worked for many years as a photographer.

Where did you work as a photographer?

In Turkey, in Bodrum, I photographed events, I also had an art shop there, then I also sold clothes for a while, said Burimi.

How are photographers in Turkey?

The Turks have one of the greatest photographers in the world, who called him the Eye of Istanbul, because he has photographed only this city all his life.

Who is this?

Ara Gyler, a photographer of Armenian origin, has passed away, but I had the opportunity to meet him several times.

What did Ara Guler tell you?

When I met him, he was tired of people and called me arrogant.

Why, what happened to Ara with you?

I was with a small camera, with which Mecca was secretly photographed for the first time by a Western photographer, and Ara called this an insult to photography. You are arrogant Arnaut, he told me.

I've never heard of Ara Güler, I said.

While he was alive, he sold a photograph for 5 thousand euros, said Burimi, he photographed Salvador Dali and Picasso, he also worked with Gjon Mili.

What did he say about John Mill?

Ara said that Gjon Mili was a very rude man, who insulted him constantly when they were working, and I have the impression that Ara and Gjon were busy while working for Life Magazine.

What about you, have you done any Burim exhibitions?

I did two exhibitions, but I work for a long time on a topic, maybe even ten years, said Burimi.

Paske durim Burim, I can't wait that long, I did an exhibition for ten hours in Ukraine, I told him.

I saw your exhibition about Ukraine, said the Source.

How did it look, I asked.

Very good, said the Source, you were in the right place, at the right time, but I would have exhibited fewer pictures, maybe 30 would have been enough.

I like it when people stay in one place for a long time, I said, 30 pictures are seen in 5 minutes.

There was one picture that stuck in my mind, said the Source.

Who was she, I asked.

There was a wall with two photographs of men that looked like they had been framed.

That is the picture of a destroyed barbershop in Irpin, I said, there was a wooden installation on the side of the road and two pictures on the wall. I tried to compose them and that photo has some geometry.

I'm also working on a photo project on photos, said Burimi.

I mean picture after picture, I told him.

My project is called "The Disappeared", said Burimi. In Kosovo, every year the families of the murdered and missing go to the walls of the parliament and put pictures of their family members. Later, from sun and rain, from wind and frost, the photographs of the missing are alienated, faded, folded, rusted or torn. Then I photograph them and enlarge them, so that the signs of time can be seen on their faces.

Are you going to do an exhibition with the Disappeared of Kosovo, I asked him.

I will try, said Burimi, this project together with the dervishes of Kosovo is taking me ten years of work.

Dervishes are very difficult, I said, they refuse to be photographed.

I have become friends with them, said the Source, I go every year when they have their ceremonies and I photograph how they go into trance.

You photographed dervishes piercing their noses and cheeks with knives, I asked.

All you want, said the Source, when they lie on the ground in a semi-hallucinatory state, I lie with them, when they dance, I dance with them, and when I get out of there, I usually lose 4 to 5 pounds.

So you almost go into a trance like the dervishes when you photograph them, I asked.

Almost, the Source said.

What do you think about Albanian photographers?

They have no imagination, the photo is not the person you are photographing, but his background.

I understand, I said, the picture is a detail.

What do you see behind me, Burimi asked.

There is a car behind you, I told him.

Does it count as a detail, Burimi asked.

It's not worth it, I said, there are thousands of pictures of men driving cars a day, but this is not photography.

But what would a photograph be in this case, Burimi asked.

If there was a plane behind you sticking out of your hair like a thorn, this would be the picture, I told him.

Okay, said the Source.

How many pictures do you think are worth, I asked.

If a man manages to get ten good pictures in his lifetime, that's enough, said Burimi.

I want to do an exhibition about Africa, I told him.

Why Africa?

Portraits of Africans are very expressive, especially in areas where people still live in tribes, such as the Masai Mara in Kenya or the Ormo Valley in Ethiopia, I said.

It would be nice, said the Source, but keep in mind that thousands of people have done this before you and it is not something unique.

Everything we see, someone before you has seen, I said, including the planes that take off and land behind your back, this is repeated a hundred times a day.

I want to do something that no one in the world has done, said Burimi.

What could be something that no one has done before you, I asked.

The Disappeared of Kosovo will be a unique project, said Burimi, I want to do things related to Albanians, because other nations have their own photographers and we cannot compete with them.

I photograph for fun, I told him. When I write I feel alone, but when I photograph I am with people, with their stories and emotions.

My heart rate increases during photography, said Burimi.

Who is a good photographer, I asked.

A good photographer is one who knows how to hide bad photos, said Burimi.

I must have tons of bad photos, I told him.

Don't delete any of them, said the Source, when you come back to them after many years you will like them.

I haven't taken any courses and at first I didn't know how to use the camera, I still don't know what this ISO is, which tortures me every time I take pictures at dusk or in a place without light.

Never mind, said the Source, when I saw the photographs of Henri Cartier Bresson, I thought that even he did not know how to use his camera, then when I read more, he said that I don't care about light or focus, but only what is called the decisive moment , the decisive moment between some objects or people.

I saw one of your pictures, which I really liked, I told him.

Which one, asked the Source.

A horse on a war tombstone, I said.

Yes, said Burimi, I did it in Muzina Pass.

How did you find the horse on the tombstone, I asked. You probably told someone to put it there for you to photograph.

More or less yes, said the Source, because the horse did not have to ride in that place.

Is riding the horse on the steps of the tombstone a decisive moment, I asked.

In the photo, it looks like it is a decisive moment, because no one knows that I rode the horse there, Burimi said.

Exactly, I told him, this is not a decisive moment, because a horse was never ridden on the tombstone, as this is not natural for the horse.

Other photographers do this too, Burimi said.

I know, I said, Steve McCurry had ridden a man reading a book on an elephant.

Fake, said the Source.

Of course, I said, like the picture I took of you with the beggar.

Tell me a little, said the Source.

You have a few shots, one where he sees you and you see me, I like it, I said.

Please don't publish this, said the Source.

Why not?

Because from the way I see you, it is clear that the photo is fake, so not natural.

How is this different from riding the tombstone on the horse, I said, you told the horse to climb the tombstone, I told you to approach a beggar to look like you are kissing.

True, said the Source, we photographers have to make things up for people to see as real.

I'm not a photographer, I told him.

But what do you think you are, Burimi asked.

I'm a curious person who walks around with a camera and captures other people's movements.

You have a sharp eye, you can also become a photographer, said Burimi.

I would have a lot of fun, but I don't know the language of horses and sometimes not even people, so they don't obey me.

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