I have constraints that are much stronger than any journalist ethics. For me, morals and style are one.
I want to show the event at the very moment it takes place.... My body must be anchored to the ground and seek the best point of view, without any visual taboos. But then, at the heart of the event, my effort is to disappear, I introduce a distance that borders on indifference.
I was twenty when I discovered war and photography. I can’t say that I wanted to bear witness and change the world. I had no good moral reasons: I just loved adventure, I loved the poetry of war, the poetry of chaos, and I found that there was a kind of grace in weaving between the bullets.
I am cold and detached, sufficiently invisible because sufficiently insignificant, and that is how I arrive at a full presence to things, and a simple and direct relation to the real. That idea, in my work, is central.
Show it for what, to change what, there is no change, you can photograph what you want, it won't change anything. The maximum it can do you know, is to make people realize how it was but it is not going to change the condition of the people you photograph.
The denunciation of suffering by photography has replaced the religious justification of suffering in painting. Denunciation is a function of photojournalism, and in itself that’s a step in the right direction.
What you want to be is a poet…. To voice the real and at the same time create an image that is a world in itself, with its own coherence, its autonomy and sovereignty; an image that thinks.
There is the refusal of style and the refusal of sentimentalism, there is this desire for clarity...
If an image is powerful enough, if it resists us, if, by its obscure coherence, part of it escapes our understanding, then it means that something has been won from reality.