Between 1984 and 1994, David Barbour was a contract photographer for the Canadian International Development  Agency (CIDA) and he photographed in over 30 countries in Africa, Asia and the Caribbean. All the photographs were produced in colour on Kodachrome film and were used for educational and promotional usage. In 1994, he wanted to pursue a personal project that extended his experience in other countries and he travelled to Havana for the first time. Since then, he has returned 16 times to document life on the street, complete assignments and lead photo workshops for SPAO in Ottawa.

Bikini Lines is a proposal to create the world’s largest painting, viewable in Google Earth, on an historically significant & sublimely remote Pacific Island. Using the Runit Island Cactus Dome as a canvas - the dome built to contain radioactive debris from Bikini & surrounding atolls - we wish to create a new type of highly participatory, collaborative & micro-financed media for the benefit of children orphaned in the March 2011 Japanese disasters. 

By challenging the way media is created we can rewrite the mode & reasoning behind it’s distribution. In short, Bikini Lines is Art, Adventure, Collaboration and Documentation. 

Incense is one the hundreds of products labeled "Made in India" that have become part of everyday life across the world. In a global economy, the products we buy are often produced in some far away country, by mysterious processes and anonymous workers, ending up in our shops and our homes by the magic of globalization. When photographer Cristina Sáez was invited to visit the Hari Darshan incense factory in Delhi, she encountered first hand the people and the machines behind the commodity. Men and women, materials and machines in perfect synchrony. Every step of the process produced a small change, from the dusty raw material to the sticky dhoop that is shaped into cones and sticks, perfumed, packaged and shipped far away. 
Yet the story she found was not about a product, a process, an outcome. It was an endless cacophony of individual voices repeating the same mantra day after day. The same quick movement, the same touch, the hand that restores the human to the heart of the machine. 

"Short Stories" is an attempt to capture the fluidity and diversity of street life in South America. In direct contrast to Europe and much of the Western world, people share an intimate and collective bond with the streets and public places. With the fragmentation of a day into working hours and free time not being as rigid, daily life is much less structured. Social and economic issues notwithstanding, there is an inherent openness to public life, and activities usually considered private are frequently carried out outdoors. Shot throughout parts of South America during 2010, the series is focused mostly on the multifaceted everyday life without being a strictly documentary project.

When did you decide to become a photographer? 

It was an organic process. I saw the work of photographers like Cartier-Bresson, Frank, Kertesz and others and knew that this is what I wanted to do with my life.

How would you define your style of photography? 

I work on the street photograph life. It dictates to me what happens. Not me.

I work fast and seek an "out of the corner of the eye" immediacy and energy.  One camera: a Leica M. One lens: 35 mm. Worry about nothing but what is going on in front of me.

Who are the most influential photographers in your career?

The work of the photographers mentioned above still move me. Practically, I worked with Annie Leibovitz and Joel Meyerowitz in New York and Michel Comte in Los Angeles. Meyerowitz introduced me to Leica's. Leibovitz, probably the all round strongest photographer I have ever worked with, showed me how to make photographs every day, no excuses. Deliver the goods. Period. Comte showed me how a photographer's kinetic energy can translate into energy in photographs.

Beginning in 2008, I hit the road for three years to photograph America solo; living out of a tent and bringing along my dog for the ride. While traveling in Maine, I discovered a Bingo hall and it provoked a curiosity about a subculture that I was unaware of. What I discovered was a community of dedicated players who travel to the same place, set up in the same spot, and bring along the same good luck charms with the hopes that this will be the night that they win big.

As I continued my travels across America, I also kept on my quest to find hidden or otherwise unknown bingo halls. When I found a location of one, I also found a sense of community that wasn’t expected.  Although many of the dedicated players may be aging, it’s something that they look forward to each week.  You might feel bad or sorry for some players because they come and leave alone but as I was talking to “B” in a hall in Fort Collins Colorado, she made a point to remind me that it, “beats sitting in front of the boob tube at home!” 

The Ngaben (cremation rite) is a sacred right of passage in Bali, and a great time for celebration. The Hindu-Balinese believe the body is impure, a temporary shell, having no significance at all, except as a container of the soul and its anchor to the earth. All thoughts at the time of death are concentrated upon the spirit and its passage to heaven. The body is just there to be disposed of, and, instead of grieving, the Balinese prefer to throw a great celebration, in the process hastening their dead friend’s soul to oneness with god. I was invited by the family to join the celebration of Mr A.A. Mangkling’s life, festivities and rituals including nyiramin layon – bathing of the body, the procession, the last sacrifice and finally the releasing of the spirit to the sea.