Czech born Josef Koudelka trained as an aeronautical engineer at the Technical University in Prague. He began making photographs in 1956 and came to fame, albeit anonymously, when he photographed the Russian invasion of his homeland ten years later. Two years after the invasion he came to the West but this was only the beginning of his journey. It is seemingly never ending and, although a man of few words, he is perhaps best described as a witness to our times. This is not to say that his watching is either arbitrary or passive: there is a searching and a need to know in his work. His first book, Gypsies, was published in 1975 and is one of the classic photographic monographs of the century. In 1988, by which time he had “settled” in France, he published Exiles which was as well received as his first opus. Chaos, beautifully produced by Phaidon Press, is Koudelka’s first major publication for more than ten years.
Chaos is made with a panoramic camera, a tool Koudelka first used when photographing in Northern France for the arts project associated with the construction of the Channel Tunnel. As well as differing in format from his past publications it also differs in subject matter, for here Koudelka addresses himself to a memory of humanity rather than humanity itself. In his previous books Koudelka’s vision, although a harsh one, is tinged with compassion and respect: empathy softens the contrasty prints. Chaos however seems to address a grander vision. The first image, resembling nothing more than an icon struck down in the maelstrom of the changing Eastern Block, turns out to have been made in California in 1991. This is not a book about the chaos left in the wake of any single political system. Equally it is far from solely contemporary or even restricted to this century. Along with Auschwitz, Berlin and Bosnia, Koudelka’s journey has also paused to consider the foundations of civilisation at Delphi and Athens. Images are also made from the air and perspectival conventions cast aside with deliberation. It seems as if Koudelka has reached a point in his quest where he needs to peel back the very landscape itself. In the stark, naked, beauty of these landscapes Koudelka may, at the turn of the millennium, in actuality be offering his viewer a memory from a future yet to come.