Going back again, you can see how Esquire was looking for matches that were not only the most dramatic, garish or ironically artful but made the subject in the "before" photo seem almost clownish or callously vain.
Presented as simple “before’s” and “after’s” intended to demonstrate how civil unrest can turn life upside down in an instant, we are shown 32 sets of images from Ukranian citizen’s Instagram feeds
Photographers of the increasingly violent upheaval in Egypt are being forced — in the interest of personal safety — to adopt practices that limit their range of coverage at exactly the moment the world is hungriest for as many images from as many perspectives as possible.
According to interviews on Thursday with nine photojournalists in Cairo, it is often hard to photograph demonstrators for President Hosni Mubarak, because they are so openly hostile to journalists. On the defensive, photojournalists also find themselves traveling in packs (which they do not typically like to do), staying away from whole sections of Cairo (which is anathema) and donning helmets (which raises the likelihood they will be mistaken for government spies).
We had been lingering on the edge of battle in this small village when a droning noise came out of the distance. Two A-1 Skyraider planes, with Vietnamese Air Force (VNAF) markings started circling Trang Bang. After a couple of passes they began diving towards the village. I had finished the first roll of film in my Leica III, and had started to reload. The planes came in, lumbering along as they do, and dropped big canisters of napalm. Moments later there was a fiery explosion, and a large fireball erupted on the edge of the village near a pagoda, followed by billows of dark smoke. I was still struggling to slide the Tri-x into my Leica, with one eye watching the planes and one on the camera. The planes made a couple of passes, the film still resisting to go into that narrow loading slot on the Leica. Then, all of a sudden everything changed.