RawСветлопис
Dan kada sam snimio fotografiju Kosač : 08.jun 1999.
koja je prvi put objavljena 09.juna 1999.
The Day I Took the Photo “The Mower”: June 8, 1999 (first published on June 9, 1999)
Devedesetih godina proslog veka je bilo toliko turbulentnih dešavanja da mogu slobodno da kažem da sam se kao i većina privikao na loše. Naravno da me je iznenadilo bombardovanje, ali na to nisam gledao kao na nešto što nije moguće, već sam od prvog dana obavljao svoj novinarski zadatak. S obzirom na to da sam bio istreniran na brojnim domaćim ratištima bilo mi je važno da za početak sklonim porodicu kako bih lakše radio bez dodatnih briga. Vikendica u Deliblatskoj peščari je bila dovoljno dobro sklonište, daleko od grada, a opet blizu da se moze reagovati ako krene po zlu,
Interesovanje za dogadjaje za vreme Nato agresije 1999 koje je počelo 24. marta je bilo veliko tako da niste znali kada i u kom ćete delu zemlje biti. Slučaj je hteo da se nadjem u Pančevu kako prvog tako i poslednjeg dana bombardovanja rafinerije 08. juna 1999. kada je nastala fotografija Kosač koja je toliko puta objavljena bez moje dozvole da sam odustao od statistike. Postala je „viralna“ od kako su društvene mreze svu aktuelnost uzele pod svoje. Početak njihovog delovanja nije daleko iza nas. Stranica FB je startovala sa radom početkom 2004.- te, a Instagram krajem 2010.-te. Na žalost većina korisnika smatra da je ovo javno dobro i da svako može da koristi materijal bez pitanja i kako njemu odgovara, tj. da sve što se objavi na ovim stranicama ne podleže autorskim pravima. Da ne dužim priču i ne ulazim u široku diskusiju koja nema kraja, ovom prilikom želim da samo dam tačne podatke i da kažem da je pomenuta fotografija snimljena 8.juna 1999. oko podneva u selu Starčevo i da je na njoj Vojislav Minić iz Starčeva pored Pančeva, rodom sa Kosova iz Zubinog potoka, profesionalni kosač koji je tog dana skidao detelinu da bi prehranio živinu. Sutradan je potpisan je Kumanovski sporazum pa je slučaj hteo da je na dan njenog prvog objavljivanja došlo do prekida agresije….
Bio je sunčan dan a svetlo koje je obasjavalo crno plavi dim koji je kuljao iz rezervoara neverovatno je ocrtavalo otrovne oblake koji su pretili. Ovde se osećao jak miris benzena i sagorele plastike. Ipak smo se odlučili da snimimo par kadrova i usli duboko u njivu. Vozeći se polako skoro da nismo ni primetil paora koji je radio u polju. Kosač kao da je nikao ispred nas.Brzo smo izleteli iz vozila a ostalo se odigralo za nekoliko sekundi dok čovek nije shvatio da ga fotografišemo. Malo se bunio što ga nismo pitali ali je nastavio sa radom i zamolio da ga više ne fotografišemo. Šta smo uradili uradili smo.Napravio sam nekoliko snimaka znao sam da je ovo scena koju sam celo jutro trazio. S obzirom da se bližio rok za predaju fotografija morao sam hitno u redakciju da bih ubacio ovaj materijal. Treba reći da se tada snimalo filmskim aparatima, što znači da sam morao da razvijem filmove, izradim fotografije i dam ih u dalju produkciju. Za to je bilo potrebno više od jednog sata ne računajući put od Pančeva do Beograda. Sve pogodnosti današnje tehnologije nisu postojale, pa ipak stigao sam sve na vreme.
Kosač je prvi put publikovan na naslovnoj strani Večernjih novosti u izdanju za celu Srbiju i Crnu goru 9. juna 1999.
– Kasnije sam ovu fotografiju koristio na izložbama i drugim objavama. Dobio sam nekoliko domaćih i dve svetske nagrade. Istina je da sam odbio jednu od meni najvažnijih i najunosnijih nagrada jer su organizatori tražili da uklonim tekst u kojem stoji objašnjenje fotografije i da ne pominjem Nato. Pogrešno je neko na mreži napisao da sam trebao da retuširam kosača. Kada bi neko hteo da izbroji koliko je puta bespravno podeljena mislim da ne bi mogao jer se radi o milionima deljenja.
Poklonio sam je Muzeju Istorije Jugoslavije kada su pravili izložbu pod nazivom : „Kako su ubijali jednu zemlju“, tako da se sada nalazi u fundusu a mnogo godina kasnije i Istorijskom arhivu grada Pančeva.
Fotoreporter Zoran Jovanovic Macak/RawСветлопис
The 1990s were so turbulent that I can freely say that, like most people, I had grown accustomed to bad things. Of course, the bombing came as a shock, but I never saw it as something impossible. From the very first day, I continued doing my job as a journalist. Having already been seasoned by numerous domestic war zones, it was important for me to first move my family to safety so I could work without additional worry. A small weekend house in the Deliblato Sands proved to be a sufficiently good shelter—far from the city, yet close enough to react if things went wrong.
Public interest in the events during the NATO bombing of 1999, which began on March 24, was immense, so you never knew where in the country you would find yourself. By chance, I happened to be in Pančevo both on the first and the last day of the refinery bombing—June 8, 1999—the day when the photograph “The Mower” was taken. It has been published so many times without my permission that I stopped keeping track. It became “viral” with the rise of social media. Their emergence is not so far behind us: Facebook began operating in early 2004, and Instagram at the end of 2010. Unfortunately, many users believe this is public property and that anyone can use such material without permission, as they see fit—assuming that everything posted online is free of copyright.
Without going into a never-ending discussion, I simply want to provide accurate information: the photograph was taken on June 8, 1999, around noon, in the village of Starčevo. It depicts Vojislav Minić from Starčevo near Pančevo, originally from Zubin Potok in Kosovo—a professional scythe mower who was cutting clover that day to feed his poultry. The following day, the Kumanovo Agreement was signed, and by coincidence, the aggression ended on the very day the photograph was first published.
It was a sunny day, and the light illuminating the black-and-blue smoke billowing from the storage tanks dramatically outlined the toxic clouds looming overhead. The smell of benzene and burnt plastic was strong. Nevertheless, we decided to take a few shots and moved deep into the field. Driving slowly, we almost didn’t notice the farmer working there. The mower seemed to appear out of nowhere. We quickly jumped out of the vehicle, and everything happened within seconds before the man realized he was being photographed. He protested slightly that we hadn’t asked permission, but continued working and asked us not to photograph him further. What was done was done. I took several shots, knowing this was the scene I had been searching for all morning.
With the deadline for submitting photographs approaching, I had to rush back to the newsroom to process the material. At that time, we worked with film cameras, which meant developing the film, making prints, and sending them into production. This took more than an hour, not counting the trip from Pančevo to Belgrade. None of the conveniences of today’s technology existed—but I still made it in time.
“The Mower” was first published on the front page of Večernje novosti on June 9, 1999, in the edition distributed across Serbia and Montenegro.
Later, I used the photograph in exhibitions and other publications. It received several national awards and two international ones. It is true that I declined one of the most important and lucrative awards because the organizers demanded that I remove the explanatory text and avoid mentioning NATO. Someone online incorrectly claimed that I should have retouched the mower. If one were to try counting how many times it has been shared without authorization, it would be impossible—it numbers in the millions.
I donated the photograph to the Museum of the History of Yugoslavia for their exhibition “How They Killed a Country,” and it is now part of their collection, as well as, many years later, the Historical Archives of the City of Pančevo.
Photojournalist
Zoran Jovanović Mačak /RawСветлопис