As the new Argentine president elect senator Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner arrives at the Casa Rosada for the first official engagement following her election, Marcos Brindicci uses depth of field to lightly blur the image of her husband and predecessor Nestor Kirchner, drawing the eye to the former First Lady and nicely flattening the background.

The image is suggestive of the way in which attention has passed from the outgoing president to his wife, the first woman to run the country. 

It is simple and nicely executed and worthy of its place in today’s Editor’s Choice.

The quote above is from an interview with Adam Baron, a You Witness contributor, whose powerful images form a part of citizen journalists’ documentation of the raging fires in Southern California and their aftermath. Reuters readers have provided pictures to You Witness News from when the fires began in Malibu to the ruins in Fallbrook. Here is a selection of the best images.

Baron, who works at Pepperdine University, Malibu, and is responsible for students who stay on campus, gives us an insight into what it was like living and working with the fires ravaging areas nearby.

Around the world there are certain places that awaken our imagination and serve as symbols of everything we associate with a particular region of our world. Southern California and particularly Malibu, California is that kind of place for many people. It is America’s paradise hub and the place where many of Western culture’s creative elite make their residence. Therefore when fires ran through “Shangri-La” this week and ran through greater Southern California, something of a sobering and sublime mood also laid claim on its people and pristine landscape.

The unbiased weather did not discriminate where the winds would blow or where burning embers would land. The result led to the spectacular reality and images of Mother Nature’s continuing reminder that wealth, power, beauty, and fame cannot protect us. Rather we have been humbled and are simply grateful to the brave men and women who fought these fires from land and air to preserve something of our way of life here. We now begin the task of counting our losses and rebuilding.

On the campus of Pepperdine University in Malibu, California students have returned to classes and the tasks of writing papers and preparing for exams. Here everyone is indebted to the university leadership and emergency contingency plans they prepared in advance for such an occasion. Many students chose to leave campus, but for those who heeded the council of administration to stay, they witnessed nature’s fury and humanity’s best instinct to preserve and protect.

There are many moving parts when something so daunting strikes at such a large area. No doubt there will be armchair editors ready to explain what and how things could have been handled better. In my view such questions miss the main point. If these questioned raised by the media or residence affected by the fires aim to get at improving response time and governmental engagement, those are fair questions.

However, we must also consider the human element and how ‘we the people’ use the land. I don’t mean to say that we caused the fires or get into a discussion about global warming. All I am saying is that paradise was here, along with the Santa Ana winds and the beautiful landscape, long before the people. We’ve learned how to split an atom and fly a man to the moon, but we haven’t learned how to manage the weather, and I am not sure we ever will or that we are supposed to.

I am confident that we must continue to explore our place on this small planet and our indebted relationship to it. It is a slippery task but the reason I taking photographs like these is to somehow grab hold of this relationship and honor it.

I had mixed feelings as the unmarked, white-painted, Royal Jordania airline flight from Amman approached Baghdad international airport. After a tight turn and in order to lose height quickly, a nosedive, it touched down on the runway. What could I expect this time, six months after my last embed with U.S. troops in the Iraqi capital?

The conflict in Iraq is a familiar everyday story in our mass media world. Here a suicide bombing with dozens of dead , there a car bomb that kills and maims dozens. The pictures of life in a war zone have become familiar and similar scenes are shown again and again. For viewers a world away from the conflict these images are nevertheless unreal, far from their everyday experiences – but this is daily life in Iraq, for every Iraqi.

During my last stay in Baghdad in March I was confronted with the reality of the inconceivable, cruelty of this war. Corpses, bound and tortured lying in the roads; the dismembered bodies of Iraqi soldiers; children, women and men trying to live their everyday lives constantly afraid of becoming victims of the next bomb attack.

US servicemen often ask me what I expected to find in Iraq? My answer is always, “I don’t expect anything. I just witness what I see”. And I can see everything I want to see.
After three weeks in the city I can see that a little progress has been made.

The embedded journalist program is the only way a western journalist can operate with a degree of safety. Even so you have to take care every step you walk for fear of triggering a roadside device or being ambushed.

You live with the military 24/7, sleep in the same tents and eat the same food. They talk freely, openly and often controversially about their circumstances. They are a friendly bunch, usually happy to meet a German photographer as many have been stationed in Germany and have good memories of their time there.

For a foreign journalist there is no other way to work in an environment that is all to often lethal for even seasoned locals. Of course my report is just a window on events there but hopefully adds to a balanced picture overall.

Even from an armoured Humvees, wearing heavy body armour and a kevelar helmet, the small “baby steps” are apparent. The “concerned citizen” program, where local groups cooperate with US troops and provide limited security in their neighbourhoods has seen life return to the streets – small shops are open again and butchers are back in business.

I spent some time with a Blackhawk helicopter MEDEVAC unit, called the “Witchdoctors”. These are the medics who rush to the scene of roadside explosions and the number of emergency calls has diminished markedly in the past few months.

Today, patrolling through Baghdad’s Haifa Street – one of the most embattled hotspots between insurgents and U.S. soldiers -  apart from the Iraqi army checkpoints, some sort of stable existence seemed to be returning and people were out and about doing their daily shopping, there even new street lights.

Of course this is still miles away from peace, but the small changes, the “baby steps”, I have witnessed give me some hope for the future in Baghdad and if not for this generation, then the next, their children.

Doorstepping. It comes with the territory. Any news photographer will tell you that.In fact if you can remember back to the last time the Conservative party were in power, doorstepping Members of Parliament was so common that it prompted one colleague to refer to himself as a professional milk bottle. There are doorsteps that require immense amounts of waiting time, where at any given second the subject could arrive or depart into a melting pot of strobes, elbows, quantum cables, screaming producers and the occasional passing mother and child with pram. And while all this is happening it’s also raining and the traffic warden is quickly putting a £100 ticket on your windscreen.
Then sometimes you are lucky enough to get the Nobel Prize for Literature doorstep. In fact twice in two years I have by chance landed the call “……..we’re just getting the address…..”    

Both Harold Pinter and Doris Lessing were either at home or within walking distance. Pinter was in fact in the middle of his lunch and suddenly appeared on his doorstep sporting a cap and a black eye from a recent fall. There were half a dozen journalists and photographers and the light was perfect. Similarly with Lessing, who arrived by taxi, only to be told by a Reuters journalist that she had in fact won the prestigious prize. She then sat on her doorstep and conducted interviews. At this time there were only a dozen members of the media and again the light was perfect.

Two authors on two doorsteps in two years winning the grandest prize in the literary world. Both sets of pictures were aided by virtue of the fact that the UK picture desk searched for and obtained both addresses in record time. It meant that as the photographer, I had an advantage when I arrived. Almost unheard of on a doorstep, where the usual scenario involves everyone poised at the start line, a door opens, and we all scramble for the finish line together.

When words fail us there are alway hand gestures to fall back on.

There’s no way anybody could misunderstand the two-fingered salute, everybody knows what that means don’t they?  Two fingers, hand facing outwards means victory - a gesture widely associated with Winston Churchill – who seems on occasion to have made it the wrong way round, palm inwards. 

Although perhaps that was because being British he meant something else altogether. In the UK this gesture, allegedly dating back to the time when captured bowmen had the first two fingers on their right hand hacked off to render them harmless, two fingers raised like this palm inwards, is a demonstration of defiance, offensive even.

So that’s what former Chelsea coach Jose Mourinho is telling us? No, he’s indicating he wants two players forward and two back. And Boris Yeltsin - two players forward or a gesture of defiance? No, he’s telling us he caught two fish.

But Quentin Tarentino is giving a V-for-victory sign, like Churchill right? Yes, Quentin’s is a friendly, celebratory gesture, unlike that demonstrated by fellow director David Slade, who unlike Tarentino is British, isn’t ordering two players forward and hasn’t caught any fish.

RUGBY WORLD CUP 2007.

I have been seven weeks in France and now everything could depend on one split second. That was certainly the case four years ago when Kieran Doherty took this picture of Jonny Wilkinson’s  winning drop goal for England in the last minute of the 2003 Rugby World Cup final against Australia in  Sydney.

Kieran’s insight into the game was crucial to the making of this picture. He knew that a drop goal from either side would win the match and as the seconds ticked away and England drove deeper into Australia’s half, the ball was passed to Jonny and the moment was captured perfectly.

This weekend’s final in Paris will be no different. In pursuit of that special moment, once again, all angles will be covered, whether it’s the winning try, penalty or a drop goal. Five photographers will be at ground level and two in elevated positions. One of them will need a head for heights as he will be in the roof structure almost directly over the pitch, an angle which can make interesting images like these by Philippe Wojazer.

 With  a tournament this long a lot of days are spent shooting pictures on the training ground.  The teams are very keen to practise their moves in secret so we are allowed only 20 minutes at the start of a session to get the pictures that will hopefully illustrate the story of the day. Doing the same warm up session has certainly tested the imagination of the Reuters photographers here, but they seem to come up with the goods.

Having followed England since September 2 and watched some distinctly average performances in the early  games, it’s  a pleasant surprise to see them make the final against South Africa.  It represents the culmination of years of hard graft, honing special skills and being driven by the will to win. I imagine it is pretty important for the players too.

Training pictures by Eddie Keogh, Bogdan Cristel and Eric Gaillard. Match action pictures by Eddie Keogh, Eric Gaillard and Eddie Keogh.

 Beautiful they may be but Tokyo photographer Issei Kato appears to have captured the ugly truth beneath the surface in this image from the Miss International Beauty 2007 contest.

As the second and third placed lovelies pucker up to kiss the winner for the benefit of the assembled media, Miss Runner-Up Left looks to be whispering anything but congratulations while Miss Runner-Up Right looks ready to spit in her ear.

 I guess Issei just caught them at a bad moment, right?

As I’ve said before, for me the best kind of news photography is down and dirty when the photographer has only seconds to react and has to depend on intelligence, skill,  instinct and sheer luck. Some times it all comes to nothing but it is amazing how often the same photographers come up trumps.

Anyone who has ever waited with the rest of the media pack outside the precincts of a court building hoping to photograph litigants arriving or departing by car knows how difficult it can be.  The chances of shooting clear images are stacked against you; TV lights, strobes, tinted windows, police and security running interference, colleagues/competitors blocking your shot, rain and the struggle to overcome all of these factors without spilling your coffee make good car shots a rare commodity.

But I love ‘em. When they work they can produce gloriously telling, candid images like this set from London photographer Toby Melville of Sir Paul McCartney and estranged wife Heather on their way into court and out again having failed to reach agreement in their acrimonious divorce proceedings.

Studio portraits they are not, maybe not even tack sharp but all the more powerful and evocative for it. 

Having been in Singapore for three months now, my wife and I recently joined the German Association a meeting point for some of the more than 5,000 Germans living and working in Singapore. The club was founded 1856 and is one of the oldest foreign clubs in town. Beside guided tours through various interesting areas of Singapore like Chinatown or Little India, there are coffee mornings, inline skating and Doppelkopf events (next to Skat probably the best known card game in Germany). The club also offers the preparatory classes required for those who wish to change an existing, valid international driving license to a Singaporean licence. Personally I see no reason for an extra test but it is mandatory for all foreigners and I will let you know when I pass it.

Last Friday the club organized an evening out to celebrate the ultimate event for fans of beer and group jollity: the Oktoberfest. Traditionally, Oktoberfest takes place during the 16 days up to and including the first Sunday in October. This year, the ‘real’ festival started in Munich on September 22. In Singapore Oktoberfest only runs from October 3 to October 9, although the city has plenty of places where thirsty people can meet at “belated” beer-festivals.

Our destination was the Paulaner Brauhaus, established in 1999, and located at the Millenia Walk – opposite Suntec in the city centre. This microbrewery offers freshly-brewed beer and traditional Bavarian cuisine. Beside the bar on the ground level it has a restaurant on level two with a traditional Maibaum (Maypole) in the middle of the room. Brew meister Alex makes two signature beers; Munich Lager – a bright, golden brew with a smooth taste and 4.7% alcohol and a Munich Dark which contains 4.8% alcohol with a full body, intense malt flavour and a deep dark colour. Additionally customers can get special seasonal brews like Salvator beer (in March), Maibock beer (in May) as well as the world-famous Oktoberfest beer. All the beers are brewed according to “The German Law of Purity” using only 4 natural ingredients; water, hops, malt and yeast. There are no chemicals or artificial enzymes added – and the only beer sold is freshly brewed in the onsite microbrewery.

Once our group arrived in the restaurant the first half litre Oktoberfest beer arrived ….. hmmmmm what a great taste. The waitress – definitely not Bavarian – was handing out the “Oktoberfest Dinner Menu”. We really enjoy the Asian food here and the more spice the better, but after three months my body was crying out for a real portion of meat. The menu was reassuringly familiar and wonderful - Wurstsalat (sliced Regensburger sausage), Leberknoedelsuppe (liver dumpling in clear soup), my favourite Schweinshaxe (grilled pork knuckle with sauerkraut and bread dumpling) – and Wiener schnitzel (breaded veal schnitzel and steamed asparagus and potatoes). Decidedly not for vegetarians …. but just the job for Bavarians and beer drinkers and there are many of both here in Singapore. 

My wife went for the Schnitzel and I ordered Haxn (knuckle). Seasoned drinkers already know this, but for novices I will repeat the one simple rule of Oktoberfest – “eat properly before you start drinking the beer”. With the right ‘preparation’ you can have one or two beers more …. if you can afford it - half a litre of beer costs 16.90 SG$, which is around 8 Euros. I am reliably informed that the average cost in Munich was this year between 7 and 8 Euro per litre!

As the evening progressed we learned that most of the other expats at the table were from southern Germany and familiar with Oktoberfest and Schweinshaxe. So it was no wonder they were completely at home when the Munich based “Scharivari Sextett” from Munich started with their oomph-pa-pa music . It felt just Oktoberfest in Munich – the food, the beer and the toasting “Oans, zwoa, drei – gsuffa” which means “one, two, three – toast and drink”. After each song and “Oans, zwoa, drei – gsuffa”, drinking a mouthful of beer lifts everyone’s spirits higher. The packed restaurant (half Germans and half Singaporeans) was turned into a Bavarian beer tent by the music and the toasting. Prost! is easy to understand and pronounce in most languages. Many guests were inspired to dance and some even attempted to join the band.

What a great atmosphere. Up to this point the Singaporeans I had met had been reserved and quiet but this was very different. It was ”Oans, zwoa, drei – gsuffa” PROST, until  early Saturday morning. Thank goodness I had swapped my early shift for a later one.  That reminds me not to forget the planning for Maibock beer days off ….  the brauhaus sells 30 litres kegs for home consumption. Break out the BBQ.
 

Het Algemeen Dagblad, the second largest newspaper in The Netherlands has a regular section in which they comment on a picture, old/historic or new/spot.

The text is usually divided into five segments with varying headings to suit the picture.

This time it’s Who, What, Where, Art and Winner. 

The headline shouts, “ THE ART OF ATTACKING”.

Who : Good question. According to the real experts these are the female fencers Ilaria Salvatori (left) and her compatriot and multiple World and Olympic Champion Valentina Vezzali.

What: The fencers are seen during their World Fencing Championships Quarter Final Match.

Where: The World Championships that will last until Sunday and are held in St Petersburg, Russia.

Art: Yes FOR SURE. Fencing is considered  an art, it is known as the “art of defending and attacking” and this picture underlines it.

Winner: As expected the champion Vezzali won this duel. But for us the man on the other side of the lens, photographer Alexander Demianchuk is THE WINNER!!!!

 A fantastically nice and touching way to see one of your pictures used isn’t it…?

Reproduced by kind permission AD