THIAGO DEZAN
We had the opportunity to talk to Thiago Dezan on the occasion of the release of his first book. The photographer was born in Cuiabá, in the heartland of Brazil and traveled extensively around this immensely disconnected land we call America. I’m talking about all the Americas, from North to South, from where Dezan seems to have extracted a common narrative about the continent's struggle for life and justice.
Leia o original em português AQUI.
All rights reserved ©Thiago Dezan
When I Hear That Trumpet Sound
RL: You are one of the founders of Mídia NINJA, a guerrilla audiovisual collective that became very influential during the 2013 protests in Brazil. After that you spent years traveling as a freelancer photographing and filming to outlets such as AJ+, The Intercept and The New York Times. You currently work for the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. How does the experience of constantly working close to conflict situations formed your worldview?
TD: The stories I feel the urge to document are the ones that cause discomfort, the things I see and feel the need to bring to the attention of more people. For that to happen I have always tried to put myself into situations that provide that kind of context. It is painful but it is also edifying to be in contact with people and organizations that are constantly fighting for justice, for their lives, for the conservation of their culture and to come across the barriers and the violence that is imposed on them. This makes you more mature as a human being and helps you understand society on a larger scale. This place, our continent (the Americas), has very similar roots to our social problems, independently of nationality.
RL: This book seems to be a turning point where your journalistic and documentary experience boil down to a more personal and poetic, even if dystopian, view of our current reality. How do you see this transformation?
TD: I was sixteen when I did my first filmmaking workshop. Ever since that moment creating images infused with meaning became my way of interacting with the world around me. The search for the documentation of stories that are outside the discourse of the mainstream came naturally to me. Over time this desire to find and tell stories developed into more complex research. On the technical side, Mídia NINJA is an example on how to develop tools to create live audiovisual content. On the narrative side, I experimented with different ways of presenting a story, be it in a journalistic way, or as a documentary, a photo editorial, a zine, or this book.
‘When I Hear That Trumpet Sound’ is part of an effort to tell a story in a freer and more sensorial way, explaining less and making room for different interpretations and feelings.
“This place, our continent, has very similar roots to our social problems, independently of nationality.”
RL: Part of the photos in the book were taken during journalistic assignments. One of the images was even published at The Washington Post. Others were made in parallel, by instinct rather than commission. How does that symbiosis work in your photographic practice?
TD: I ended up developing the methodology of doing work that takes me into situations I would like to document. Of course this is not possible 100% of the time but you can balance those things out. Working at a human rights organization like I do now allows me to have access to cases of violations all over Latin America. I then produce visual records that will legally support the defense of victims and the actions of the institution I work for but the opportunity also allows me to photograph in a more personal way. I know that each situation I come across is part of a larger systematic process of violation of human rights and I try to compose these different stories into a wider narrative about the continent’s condition.
RL: The book presents a wider vision of Latin America. There are images from several countries but there is no indication of where those photos were taken, bringing distant places closer in a single narrative thread. How would you describe that narrative?
TD: When we were editing the book we used to joke that it was a protest song. More than picturing the life of a single person or a group of people, the editorial process was a way to search for the things that unite our pains and our struggles. Therefore the narrative fragments, each photo itself, builds up the story of this “main character” who doesn’t have an specific face, who is not in a single place, quite the opposite, this character is ubiquitous in our region.
The decision of not indicating the location of each photo was precisely to reaffirm that we seek to portray the humanity of our historical moment (or lack thereof) and how that crosses over the geographic boundaries that tend to separate us.
“When we were editing the book we used to joke that it was a protest song. ”
RL: Can you tell us a bit more about the editorial process of the book? Were there many changes since the original project? How did other photographers influence the final result?
TD: We spent a lot of time editing, the earlier photos in the project are from 2016. I had this idea in mind but it was hard to transform it into a more robust project by myself. When I met Vitor Casemiro and Gui Galembeck they were able to understand the narrative and were fundamental in making the project a reality. Amongst other things, they helped me to let go of the photos that diverted from the central axis of the narrative.
It was amazing to have more people collaborating to build the project and getting involved, developing the story into something more cohesive and impactful. We made a few dummies and we tested possibilities to exhaustion. The key was taking time and rethinking it over and over again. Eventually the book was changing very little, one photo or another, until we reached a point there was nothing left to do but to publish it.
RL: The book was printed in a risograph, a very particular kind of technique. How was that choice made? How much were you involved in the graphic aspects of the book?
TD: The book is all black and white and most of the images are dark, grainy and noisy. Risograph is almost like an extra step in the post production of these photos because it creates a peculiar texture that enhances their language. Casemiro was the main editor and he had this idea alongside designer Bianca Buteikis and they developed this black monolith that is the book. I think all of that makes sense with the narrative of the book that talks about death, oppression, and resilience.
All rights reserved ©Thiago Dezan