Iranian-born photographer Abbas knew from a very early age that he would spend his life taking pictures. Growing up in Algeria during that country's war for independence more than a half-century ago, he remember being struck by the violent, life-altering events taking place around him.

"I could see history being made in front of my eyes," he tells Fresh Air's Terry Gross. "For a young boy witnessing these events, it's almost normal to become a journalist or be interested in the present."

In the late 1970s, Abbas' interest in bearing witness took him to his native Iran, during that country's Islamic Revolution. He initially viewed the uprising in Iran as a revolt of the people, but gradually he saw it had been usurped by the mullahs. It was then that Abbas decided to focus his camera on the religions of the world.

"Before the Iran revolution I had no desire to photograph religion," he explains. "But covering the revolution for two years I could see that the waves of passion [that were] raised by the revolution were not going to stop at the borders of Iran."

Abbas spent seven years chronicling Islam, then he moved on to other faiths, such as Christianity, Buddhism, Judaism, Paganism and Shamanism.

"What I'm interested in is not only the personal belief, it's what people do in the name of God — sometimes the great things, and sometimes the stupid and violent things they do in his name — that's more interesting to me," he explains.

Abbas has a new exhibit, Children of Abraham, which opens Friday at the University of Pennsylvania's Arthur Ross Gallery. The collection includes 66 photos of Muslims, Christians and Jews from around the world.


Interview Higlights

On how taking a photo of four former Iranian generals who had been executed by Ayatollah Khomeini's forces turned him against the Iranian revolution

We heard that people had been executed during the night, so the only way to see the result of the execution was [at] the morgue, so I rushed to the morgue, and I was not the only photographer, there were other photographers. Suddenly I see four bodies in slabs. That was the turning point, because that's when I decided this revolution is not going to be mine anymore. Up to then, after the revolt became a revolution, and millions of people joined the revolution, which was manipulated at the beginning by the mullahs, and it became a national revolution, not just a religious one, I joined as well. That was my country, my people and my revolution. But this very moment when I saw these four generals at the morgue I decided to stay on, work as long as I can, I can work freely, but it was no longer my revolution.

On his photograph that showed a mob of pro-Khomeini men dragging a woman through the street on the grounds she was a supporter of the shah

There was a pro-shah demonstration. ... They were hitting her and dragging her, so of course, as a photographer you first react. I mean, you don't think too much. They were running, and I was running backwards and taking pictures at the same time. And there's always somebody saying, "Don't take pictures! Don't take pictures!" I will always answer in Farsi ... "This is for history!" When I said the word "history," it somewhat clicked in people's minds, "OK, it's not for right away. It's for later on, the SAVAK [Iranian intelligence] will not recognize me in the photographs. I will have no problems."

So they will not hit me instead of hitting the woman, but the problem was not taking the photo, the problem was should I show the photograph? And show it then? Because in the evening I used to get with friends and we'd talk about the day, and they'd say, "No, Abbas, you can't show this photograph now because it gives an unfavorable image of the revolution."

Up to then, the violence was one-sided, it came from the regime. Suddenly you have this picture of the revolution being very violent. I said, "I'm sorry, this picture, I'm going to show it and I'm going to show it now, and it might ... be my revolution, but I have to show it, because I'm not only working for history, I'm working for the history of the present and today's history, and I have a duty to my viewers as a journalist, as a historian of the present, I have a duty, so I'm going to show it."

On learning about the attack on the World Trade Center when he was in Siberia

I was at a friend's home, and then suddenly I see on TV live the two towers crumbling. And I was working on [a book on] shamanism... And I thought one of the shamans, which I had photographed in the afternoon had programmed [a] hallucination, because a good shaman can do that, because what I was seeing was beyond my imagination. Suddenly I realize, "No, no, it's not a hallucination," and I knew right away that it was the work of Islamists, because at the beginning they were saying, "Maybe it's an accident, or maybe it's the Palestinians." No, I knew it was Islamists, and probably bin Laden, because I had worked enough on them and on Islam to know that only they could pull something of this magnitude.

Copyright 2015 Fresh Air. To see more, visit http://www.npr.org/programs/fresh-air/.

Transcript

TERRY GROSS, HOST:

This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross. Religion, from its rituals and spirituality to the acts of extremism and violence committed in its name, is what my guest, photographer Abbas, has spent decades documenting. He began with photographing the Iranian Revolution and seeing it quickly go from being a revolt of the people against the Shah to an Islamic revolution red led by the mullahs. In 1994, he published a book of photos about militant Islam called "Allah O Akbar." After 9/11, he traveled to 17 different countries over seven years, investigating the Islamic world. Those photos are in his book "In Whose Name?" He photographed Buddhists in 12 different countries for the book "Children Of The Lotus." And in 2000, his book "Faces Of Christianity" was published. Now Abbas has a new exhibit called "Children of Abraham," photos of Muslims, Christians and Jews. It opens Friday at the University of Pennsylvania's Arthur Ross Gallery. Abbas is affiliated with the Magnum photographic agency. He was born in Iran, moved to Algeria when he was 8 and has been based in Paris since the late '60s. He's currently in the U.S., and will do a presentation at the opening of his new exhibit on Friday. Abbas, welcome to FRESH AIR. You started photographing the Iranian revolution at the very start. You were - I think you were in Iran when the Ayatollah returned from exile. And why did you return there to photograph? You were born in Iran, lived there 'til the age of 10.

ABBAS: Yeah. My parents emigrated, so - but as a photographer, I wanted to work on Iran anyway. So when the revolution started - you know, it wasn't the revolution first. It was a revolt. So when the revolt started, I went back and I spent the best part of two years, you know, covering exclusively Iran, and it was normal. I mean, you know, being Iranian and having something - an event of such magnitude, historical magnitude, happening in your home country, then you have to go back. And I followed, you know, the whole span of the revolution until I could work freely. And then when I couldn't work freely, I didn't go back.

GROSS: So one of the photographs that you've taken was - I think a photograph that was a turning point for you - it was taken at a morgue in Tehran in 1979. And it's a photo of the bodies of four generals who were executed after a secret trial that was held at the Ayatollah Khomeini's headquarters. And one of the bodies in the morgue was the former chief of the Shah's secret police, the SAVAK. How did you get to take this photograph, and why was it so significant to you?

ABBAS: Well, you know, we had spent - every day, we used to go to the headquarters of Khomeini - and then we heard that people had been executed during the night. So the only way to see the results of the execution was the morgue. So I rushed to the morgue, and I was not the only photographer. There were a lot of photographers. Suddenly, I see four bodies in slabs. You know, that was a turning point because that's when I decided this revolution is not going to be mine anymore. Up to then, after the revolt became a revolution and millions of people joined the revolution, which was manipulated at the beginning by the mullahs, it became a national revolution, not just a religious one. I joined as well, and that was my country, my people and my revolution. But this very moment, when I saw these four generals at the morgue, I decided to stay on, work as long as I can. I can work freely, but it was no longer my revolution.

GROSS: I think it was shortly before that photograph that you took in the morgue that you took another photograph that you found disturbing. It's taken in the street, where there's a mob of revolutionaries dragging a woman who they thought was a supporter of the shah, dragging her through the streets. What are they doing, and how did you come upon the scene?

ABBAS: Well, there was a pro-shah demonstration of - a pro-Bakhtiar - Bakhtiar was the prime minister installed by the shah before he left the country. They were hitting her and dragging her. So of course, as a photographer, you first react. I mean, you don't think too much. You just - they were running, and I was running backwards and taking pictures at the same time. And there's always somebody saying, oh, don't take pictures, don't take pictures. And I will always answer in Farsi (speaking Farsi) this is for history. And when I said the word history, somewhat clicked in people's minds, saying OK, you know, it's not for right away. It's for later on. The SAVAK will not recognize me on the photographs. I will have no problems, so they would not hit me instead of hitting the woman. But the problem was not taking the photo. The problem was should I show the photograph, and show it then? Because in the evenings, I used to get, you know, with friends, and we'd talk about the day. And they'd say no, Abbas, you can't show this photograph now because it gives an unfavorable image of the revolution. Up to then, the violence was one-sided. It came from the regime. Suddenly, we had this picture of the revolution being very violent. And I said I'm sorry, you know, this picture, I'm going to show it. And I'm going to show it now. And it might be induced as it was. It might be my revolution, but I have to show it because I'm not only working for history, I'm working for the history of the present, on today's history. And I have duties to my viewers, you know, as a journalist. As historian of the present, I have a duty. So I'm going to show it, and I did. I sent it right away to my agency, and it was published all over the place. And I think in retrospect I was right because some of the hate and the violence, we came up afterwards, during the - after the picture of the revolution - it's on the faces of the militants.

GROSS: We've been talking about your photos of the Iranian Revolution. One more photo I want to ask you about. You took a photograph of the Ayatollah Khomeini in 1979, a portrait of him. What were the circumstances behind that photograph? How did you get permission to do that?

ABBAS: The picture of Khomeini - oh, that was - I remember very, very well. It was in Qom. Khomeini had gone to vote, one of the votes, you know, I mean, for - which installed legally the Islamic regime. And he got off his car, and I was so close to him, I had to go back, in fact. And I was too close to him. So I took this portrait, and it really - I think it became an icon because it shows the man, you know, not just the militant.

GROSS: So after you took his photograph, did he have to give you his approval?

ABBAS: No, are you joking? (Laughter) In those days, he just took pictures.

GROSS: I know, but he's a very controlling guy. So I wasn't sure what the circumstances were.

ABBAS: (Laughter) No, I mean, if they don't want you, they don't let you have access. But in those days, it was, you know, the early stages after the revolution, there was total freedom. You could do whatever you wanted. And in fact, there was one element of the revolution which I tried to photograph, which is the cultural revolution, which was happening in people's minds, you know? Suddenly, there is total freedom, and people write poems. They translate books. They take photographs and pin them on trees. And that went on for about six months, and then slowly but slowly, you know, the Islamist regime took over.

GROSS: When the Islamists took American hostages at the U.S. Embassy in Tehran, what did that symbolize to you? What did you read into that?

ABBAS: It wasn't just 52 diplomats who were hostage. We saw the whole nation of Iran, which was hostage to the extremists. So I was more concerned because I could see the way, you know, this hostage-taking was being manipulated by the extremists to take over because each time, you know, some event of this magnitude happened, the more extremists in Iran took over the more moderate. So yeah, we were the hostages.

GROSS: Did you feel it was unsafe for you to stay at any point?

ABBAS: In Iran?

GROSS: (Affirms).

ABBAS: Well, you know, when I said, you know, they started confiscating the revolution, little by little, and I could see that, you know, there'd be less freedom to work. So I was in France, in fact, visiting my family and then my friends called because by this time my first book on Iran which was called "La Revolution Confisquee" - you know, the confiscated or the stolen revolution - had been published and my friends told me not to come back. And I didn't.

GROSS: Because it wouldn't be safe?

ABBAS: I presume.

GROSS: Let me jump ahead to 9/11. You were in Siberia when terrorists attacked the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. What was your response as a photographer?

ABBAS: Well, I was at a friend's home and then suddenly I saw on TV, live, you know, the two towers crumbling. And I was working on shamanism. At the beginning I thought, you know...

GROSS: You were doing a book on shamanism?

ABBAS: Yeah, I was doing a book on polytheism, and shamanism was part of it. I was working on that. And I thought one of the shamans which I had photographed in the afternoon had programmed hallucination - because a good shaman can do that - because, you know, what I was seeing was too - was beyond my imagination. And I suddenly realized, no, no it's not a hallucination and I knew right away that it was the work of Islamists because at the beginning we saw - maybe it's an accident, maybe it's the Palestinians - no, I knew it was Islamists and probably Bin Laden because I'd worked enough on them, on Islam, to know that only they could pull something of this magnitude.

GROSS: If you're just joining us, my guest is Abbas. He's a long-time photojournalist who is part of the Magnum agency and he's done many photojournalist books including "Allah O Akbar," which is on militant Islam, "Faces Of Christianity," "The Children Of Abraham" and "Children Of The Lotus," which is about Buddhists. He now has a show of his photographs at the Arthur Ross Gallery at the University of Pennsylvania. Let's take a short break here. Then we'll talk some more. This is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

GROSS: This is FRESH AIR, and if you're just joining us, my guest is the photojournalist Abbas, who has done many books about religion including "In Whose Name?" which is about seven different countries over seven years when in which he investigated the Islamic world after 9/11. He now has a photo exhibit at the Arthur Ross Gallery at the University of Pennsylvania.

ABBAS: Can I say that I'm no longer a photojournalist? I still use the methods of a photojournalist, but my work, you know, spans many years, you know, sometimes five, seven years. So I call myself a photographer in the sense - photographer - somebody who writes with light. So yeah, photographer's good enough for me.

GROSS: I'm going to ask you about another photo from 1989. This is a photo in Jakarta, Indonesia. And there's rows and rows of students at a college auditorium attending a Friday prayer service. And they're all wearing, like, full, white coverings. And on the one hand, it looks like such a photo of conformity 'cause you have these like almost faceless bodies, rows and rows of them. But you can also look at it as here are all these people in prayer transcending the South - that the South and the body are not important in prayer. It's an act of transcendence. And I wonder what you see when you look at that photograph?

ABBAS: Well, you see, it's great to talk about photographs on the radio, you know (laughter). You have to - you can only say...

GROSS: ...I know.

ABBAS: ...so little and you have to leave it to the imagination of...

GROSS: I know it's so true. It's a limitation we are forced to work with.

ABBAS: (Laughter) No, no, no, I love it. You know, I'm interested that you see that. I mean, you see this spiritual element in the photograph. I don't. I only see the mass, you know - the conformity. Because being a Muslim means to submit - Islam submission. That's what I see. In fact, you know, for a photographer, it's very enriching to have his photograph read in so many different ways. So when I do books, which are my final statements, my personal statements, I make sure that there are some words. I'm saying you're free to read my photograph the way you want. In fact, I love you to tell me the way you read my photograph which is different from mine. But to make sure you get my point, sometimes text and diary - in a diary form is necessary, so that's why all my books carry a diary.

GROSS: Has extremism poisoned you against all forms of religion?

ABBAS: Poison is not the right word.

GROSS: I thought it might not be the right word.

(LAUGHTER)

GROSS: Let's think of what the right word is.

ABBAS: No, you know - the - I mean, first of all, my relation with God is purely professional. So there's - I have no personal stake in religion, you know. And...

GROSS: Wait, wait. Let's back up and examine that statement. Your relationship with God is purely professional?

ABBAS: Purely professional, yes.

GROSS: Do you mean...

ABBAS: I mean, he doesn't tell me what to do, how to photograph - and I don't tell him - how he should deal with his believers, you know. So we have a mutual respect relationship.

GROSS: So you're acknowledging the existence of a god in that statement?

ABBAS: Well, tell me is there one person in the world who believes in God? One person?

GROSS: I think there's more than one person...

ABBAS: I'm asking you.

GROSS: I'm pretty sure there's more than one person who believes in God.

ABBAS: Then God exists.

GROSS: OK, that's an interesting way of looking at it (laughter).

ABBAS: I mean, I don't think...

GROSS: That's a...

ABBAS: I don't think God...

GROSS: OK.

ABBAS: I don't think God created man - I think man created God.

GROSS: OK.

ABBAS: And man created God to his needs not to his image.

GROSS: I understand what you're saying. So the answer to this might be obvious, but why are you - why have you spent so many years photographing people of different religions - Islam, Christianity Judaism, Buddhism?

ABBAS: Hinduism, the last work.

GROSS: Hinduism, paganism.

ABBAS: Well, the answer is very simple. It's one word - harmony. Before the Iranian Revolution, I had no desire to photograph religion. But covering the Revolution for two years, I could see that the waves of passion was raised by the Revolution. We're not going to stop at the borders of Iran. So that's when after, you know, I was emotionally ready, I started working on Islam for seven years on Islam - on Islamism. And then, you know, once you start with God, you might as well stay with him, you know, then I did Christianity and I've (unintelligible) paganism. And the last work I've done is Hinduism, and presently I'm working on Judaism, you know - the first would be the last. Besides, I'm not really working on religion as such. I mean, what I'm interested is not on the personal belief; it's what the people do in the name of God. You know, sometimes the great things and sometimes, you know, the stupid and violent things they do in his name - that's more interesting to me.

GROSS: In terms of countries in transition, we've already talked about your experience of the Iranian Revolution. Your family left Iran when you were 10, moved to Algeria for several years, and it was while you were in Algeria - you moved there in 1954, stayed 'til 1962 - that the War of Independence from France took place. So how did that transition affect you personally as a child?

ABBAS: Actually, I was 8 years old, and it was 1952.

GROSS: OK. Thank you for the correction.

ABBAS: I think the reason I became a photographer and the reason I became, you know, first a journalist - photojournalist - and then a photographer is because of the Algerian War of Independence because I could see history being made in front of my eyes. You know, there's so many events between 1954 and 1962 when Algeria became independent. There was so many crisis and so many violent events, and so for a young boy, you know, which is seeing - witnessing these events, you know, it's normal to become a, you know - it's almost normal to become a journalist being interested in the present. So I guess at 11, I decided, you know, I wanted to be a journalist.

GROSS: And...

ABBAS: At the beginning I - at the - sorry - at the beginning, I started doing, you know - I was doing both - writing and taking photographs and then I realized I had more fun, more pleasure out of taking images than putting words together. So I became a full-time photographer and I'll just keep a diary and whenever I do a book I use excerpts from my diary for my books.

GROSS: Years later, Islamists took over the leadership of Algeria. Could you see that coming back when you were a child in the '50s and '60s?

ABBAS: No, no, no, I couldn't see it. No, when I was - when it was - I mean, when the army decided to discount the elections which were bringing slowly - were bringing the Islamists to power and they did a coup d'etat. And I was in Algeria. I covered that, you know. But you couldn't see that coming because it was a nationalist. It was run by in the '50s. You know, it was a nationally - it was a nassary (ph). It was Arabism. Nobody's talking Islamism. Islamism - I really think, you know, it became a phenomenon after the Iran Revolution. That's why I say the reason I became interested in religion is harmony.

GROSS: You've - you know, as we've discussed, you've photographed people of many religions looking for what people - what people do in God's name. And you've done photographs of Christians in the United States including in the American South. One of your photos from the American South is at a church in Alabama in 1996 of somebody handling a snake. And you quote the line from the Bible - in my name shall thy cast out devils. They shall speak with tongues. They shall take up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing it shall not hurt them. They shall lay hands on the sick and they shall recover. What were your impressions of what was going on at that church? Why did you want to take that photo and what did you see in it?

ABBAS: You see, with having covered Islam - when Islam is under the extreme form of Islam, I couldn't not do the same with Christianity. So that was a good way of showing, you know, this - that even in Christianity and, you know, and now in Judaism I'm working on, even in Buddhism, you know - there are extremist elements. So what I was saying it was very folkloric in a way, I mean, to see people handling snakes and poisonous snakes. At the beginning, it was folkloric but then it went beyond that. It was a way for me to show, you know, the extremism in these people.

GROSS: When you photographed Buddhists, what were you going in search of?

ABBAS: Well, Buddhism in a way was an easy one because, you know, there - although there is some militantism in Buddhism, it's not visual. But you go look at Sri Lanka, for instance, you know - the Buddhists - you know, some Buddhists, monks are very, very militant and very extremist. Look also - look what's happening in Myanmar, you know, where the Buddhist monks, you know, subdued the Muslims. But Buddhism, yeah, it was easy because it was very visual. And it was in a way nice to photograph Buddhists for a change. You know after Islam (laughter), it was so much nicer and it was a relief to move to - from Islam again to Buddhism.

GROSS: A relief because...

ABBAS: For instance, a photographer, I mean, you know - Muslims are very hard to work. You know, and they say - they always try, you know - why are you doing that for? And what is your aim? No, no, your ultimate aim, the one you're telling us and why this and why that. Buddhists never ask me questions. You know, they let you take photographs.

GROSS: My guest is the photographer, Abbas, who has spent years documenting people of different faiths. We'll talk more after we take a short break. And multimedia artist, Laurie Anderson, will talk about her new film, "A Personal Reflection On Death." I'm Terry Gross, and this is FRESH AIR.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

GROSS: This is FRESH AIR. I'm Terry Gross back with photographer Abbas, who has spent many years documenting people of different faiths - Muslims, Christians, Jews, Buddhist, Hindus and Pagans. He says he's interested in what people do in the name of God, the beautiful acts and the violent acts. One of his books focuses on Militant Islam. He grew up in Iran and Algeria and has lived in France since the late '60s. He has an exhibit called Children of Abraham that opens tomorrow at the Arthur Ross Gallery on the University of Pennsylvania campus. Were you raised with religion?

ABBAS: Well, I told you, my relation with God is purely professional. I don't like to talk about my past and my family and - because that's why I say I was born - if you read my biography, it says, Abbas born a photographer, so that answers all the questions.

GROSS: Is this to protect everybody that - or just privacy?

ABBAS: No, privacy. I think photographers, you know, they should just be medium. First of all, they should not be photographed themselves, you know, they should stay one side of the camera. That's why I don't like to be photographed. Secondly, I think personal lives are personal lives. You know, what's interesting is my work. I'd rather people look at my work and, you know, talk to me about my work than talk about my life.

GROSS: In talking about your work, having taken photographs of people involved with all the major religions of the world and finding both the extremists and the just practitioners of the religion, are there things that you found very beautiful, very moving about religion even though you choose not to practice?

ABBAS: Of course. You know, I mean, you can't touch such a subject without being touched and moved. I remember very vividly, for instance, a mass in France among the Benedictins, you know, it's monks. They're different from priests, you know, monks - very moved by a mass. Normally when there's a mass, I don't listen, I just take photographs because it's always the same. But this time, you know, the father who was saying mass was very spiritual. He was talking about Jesus, not as a distant profit, but as a personal friend. So suddenly I start listening, and I became very moved. In most religions, at least one event made me - well, I wouldn't say a believer but a participant. Another one was I was photographing Shamanism in Kyzyl in Siberia in the Republic of Tuva. The Shaman is going around the patient, you know, and she's wearing this long coat with lots of things around it, and she's beating a drum. And I'm very close to her because we're in a small room. Drums affect me, you know, the noise of drum always affects me. And then suddenly, I'm in a trance myself, you know, because - and I can see that what she's doing, her ancestor of 10-15,000 years ago was probably doing this same. And suddenly it's a message from way back, and I went in a trance. Of course, I had to function. I had to make sure that my camera is, you know, the opening, the speed is the one I need, you know, so that my pictures are the one I want them. But at the same time, I'm trance. I'm here with the Shamans, you know, and the patient and I'm also somewhere else, you know? I'm, like, 15,000 years back. So it happens in most religions, yes, there's one moment when I am actually moved by what I'm witnessing.

GROSS: What's an example of how you were moved witnessing a Muslim ceremony?

ABBAS: Not many, to tell you the truth, but probably in Mecca when suddenly, you have 2 million people in white, you know, praying together. And there is some - whether you believe it or not, you know, the scene is wholesome. You know, it's so great that you have to be affected. I wouldn't say moved, but I was affected, you know. Suddenly, you have the 2 million people in communion with each other and with God, and it affects you.

GROSS: What are you most concerned about now in France where you live?

ABBAS: Well, I'll tell you what I'm concerned is the - I hope the backlash against Muslim - and there's bound to be a backlash against Muslim - is not going to be too violent. I hope we will not have death squads, you know, like, who will deal with the jihadis when they come back from Syria. They will execute them because, you know, they don't put them in courts and then they let them free and they, you know, they plant bombs and they become terrorists. I hope the backlash will not be strong because don't forget, only 50 years ago, France was fighting Algerians and there were death squads. So...

GROSS: In Algeria?

ABBAS: Oh, yes, of course, you know. And there was, you know - in a way, you know, I mean, it's not only - I mean, this terrorist in France, the present one, you know, of course the justification is Islam. But in the way France is dealing with its colonial past - these are remnants from it's colonial past, which is emerging again. You know, Algeria's independent, Morocco's independent, Tunisia's independent, but it's not - the wars, in a way, in some people is, you know, in people's mind, it's still going on. Justification is different, historical, you know perspective is different, but there is a link between the colonial past.

GROSS: So I've been introducing you as Abbas just using your first name, which is what you use as your byline. Why do you just use one name?

ABBAS: Why you need two?

GROSS: Well, that's usually the way it's done - two or three.

ABBAS: Well, then why it has to be usual?

GROSS: OK, Abbas is a pretty common name, although it's not common to have it as the only name, so...

ABBAS: It became my flag. It became my flag.

GROSS: So you didn't run across people saying, which Abbas? (Laughter) Abbas who?

ABBAS: No, but as a photographer, I think there is only one, so I'm not worried.

GROSS: Right. What was the first photograph you took that got attention?

ABBAS: Well, it's just more than one. You know, so maybe one of them was the - I photographed apartheid in 1978 in South Africa. There's a picture I took - there's a white officer in uniform and then rows and rows of black trainees, police trainees, and they're naked to the waist. And this picture became a sort of symbol, of icon, of apartheid. So it's been used in covers on books, magazines and even somebody did a mural about it. So that was in 1978. But that's not the first one, it's one of the first ones.

GROSS: What did that photograph mean to you? And what are some of the interpretations that you heard of it?

ABBAS: Well, it's not so much what it means to me that we became, you know, the, again, a symbol of apartheid. And I remember, you know - I mean, because South Africans in those days didn't know who I was. I went there not as an international photographer, but as an Iranian one. After they saw this photograph being published all over the world, you know, I think another photographer from my agency then, which was Gamma, went to get a visa. And the ambassador of the council is supposed to make the statement that this picture did us more harm than the whole division of enemy. So it was the greatest compliment I could get.

GROSS: And what's another?

ABBAS: Maybe the 1970s war between Israel and Egypt and Syria. I have a Moshe Dayan, who was the minister of defense. He's in a bunker on the front lines, and the bunker has been hit, so it's half destroyed. And he's looking through binoculars on the front lines.

GROSS: He's kind of peering out from between rocks.

ABBAS: Well, it's, you know, the slits in bunkers.

GROSS: Yeah.

ABBAS: But the bunker had been hit.

GROSS: How did you get that picture of Moshe Dayan?

ABBAS: Luck.

GROSS: What were you doing there?

ABBAS: Well, you know, the Israeli was controlling the access to the front lines, so you couldn't go on your own. You just had to go in parties, you know, what they call embedded. So I was on my own and managed to slip through the checkpoints. I was on the Golan Heights, and then suddenly I see Moshe Gayan coming in his jeep, so I just followed him. So I said luck - you have to be lucky as a photographer.

GROSS: Abbas, thank you so much for talking with us.

ABBAS: Khodafez.

GROSS: I'm sorry.

ABBAS: Khodafez means goodbye in Farsi.

GROSS: Oh (laughter). OK, thank you.

Abbas has an exhibit called Children of Abraham that opens tomorrow at the Arthur Ross Gallery on the campus of the University of Pennsylvania. He'll do a presentation at the opening. You can see a slideshow of some of his photos on our website, freshair.npr.org. Coming up, multimedia artist Laurie Anderson talks about her new film, "Heart Of A Dog," a personal reflection on death. That's after a break. This is FRESH AIR. Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

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