The first image he told me about was of three children on a road in Iceland, in 1965. He said that for him it was the image of happiness and also that he had tried several times to link it to other images, but it never worked. He wrote me: one day I’ll have to put it all alone at the beginning of a film with a long piece of black leader; if they don’t see happiness in the picture, at least they’ll see the black.
Near the port city of Chittagong in Bangladesh, lies one of the largest ship-breaking yards in the world. It stretches for 18 km along the coast on the Bay of Bengal where more than 200,000 Bangladeshis break down up to 100 ships a year. Working under hazardous conditions, workers rip apart ships with their bare hands and a blowtorch to assist, dissecting the ship bolt by bolt, rivet by rivet. Every piece of metal worth salvaging is carried on to waiting trucks in the shoreline to be carried away to furnaces where it will be melted down and fashioned into steel rods. The steel accounts for half of all the steel in Bangladesh.