Platon’s guidebook to human dignity

Photography shouldn’t be confused with promotion — the artist’s job is to ignite debate. That’s what Platon does, anyway. His upcoming book, The Defenders, spans fifteen years of the photographer’s politically-charged work. It’s yet another testament to his mastery over the medium.
  • PhotographerPlaton
  • InterviewerRankin

Rankin: I loved The Defenders. Are you happy with it?

Platon: You know yourself how hard it is to do a book. And this one was really hard because most of the subjects are not famous people, but their stories were really important to share. I’m dyslexic, too, so for me to write 80,000 words and do all the research, it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And I couldn’t make mistakes. There would have been so many security issues. So, it’s taken 15 years to do, but it’s done now and it taught me so much. I’m so happy I’m now able to get these stories out because these are people who sometimes feel very lonely. And I’m going to be honest with you, the book is overwhelming — visually, and in the stories. What I love about it, though, is its plural. It’s multifaceted, and that’s exactly what we need. I don’t believe in singularity. Like, it’s your vision, but at the same time you’re listening and telling people’s stories, which is extraordinary. We’ve all looked at projects that are quite academic, dealing with a lot of subjects, but I’m not an academic person. All the things I’ve learned – I’m sure you’re the same – we learn it from the street. We learn it from connecting with people and sharing ideas on set. And magical things happen that way. So, I thought I’d write the book as a photojournal of what it was like going on the road. Packing up the gear in the van, and the exhaustion and nerves we feel. It brings you into the pictures in a way that’s different to the subject matter.

Bullhorn used at a protest for immigrants’ rights in Phoenix, Arizona.
Gisela Castillo, farmworker and activist shows the scar on her lower leg from a farming machinery incident.
Par Taw, landmine victim living in exile in Mae Sot, Thailand.

R: Did you feel like you relied on your instincts a lot when shooting for The Defenders?

P: When we dedicate our lives to something, you have to be authentic. You can’t be anything else. Nobody can imitate someone else for their whole life. It’s in your emotions. When we were younger, we all had our heroes — people like David Bailey and Richard Avedon and Irving Penn. They taught us there’s a potential path. But eventually that disintegrates, and you don’t have any room to be anything but yourself. You’re struggling and scrambling, so you end up becoming completely authentic. This happened to me a lot creating the book. When I was with Aung San Suu Kyi [the former State Counsellor of Myanmar] I was so stressed and nervous. I was being chased by secret police, and I was really frightened that I might not see my wife and kids again. I was breaking the military junta law by going there. But when she finally walks in the room, and you pick up the camera, you’re suddenly focusing on their eyelash, or tilting their head up to catch the light. There’s no room for anxiety.