A picture of protest
“I hated the idea of taking pictures at demonstrations. I was fascinated by the work I saw from those who did – I was in awe of it. But making those kinds of pictures myself? Nah, I was happy doing what I was doing.”
It’s not a line you'd expect from renowned photojournalist-turned-investigative reporter Marc Vallée. Based in London, Marc has made a name for himself photographing dissent for the major media. His pictures are rated by two of America's most daring novelists - Dennis Cooper and Scott Heim – and he's co-authored three major investigations for The Guardian exposing police brutality and state surveillance of lawful protesters. But when Marc first picked up a camera at the age of twenty-five, all he was interested in was shooting his buddies.
“It was the mid-nineties and I would spend a lot of time in America, just photographing friends. They were skaters, surfers, punks, all hanging out on the New Jersey coast,” he says.
Returning to the UK, Marc continued to seek out the alternative. The punk scene in Watford – one of London's unassuming satellites – first caught his attention, followed quickly by the alternative queer scene, which reflected his own sexuality. His shots were picked up by the now-defunct lifestyle magazine Sleazenation, and he was one of the first photographers to have pictures placed with PYMCA – a picture library specialising in global youth culture and music.
For Marc, politics was always in the mix. At eighteen he started work as a typesetter and layout artist for left-wing weekly, The Militant. After five years at The Militant, Marc headed for art school where he specialised in fine art painting. “I was told by a lecturer that drawing was not my ‘strongest point' but that I was good with colour and light. Obviously I argued with him about that – I thought I was a brilliant painter. But he was half right. I did have an eye for light, and photography, to coin a phrase, is drawing with light. I picked up a camera, took some pictures, and they just seemed to work.”
As Marc became more established, his semi-autobiographical photos of the communities he moved in evolved into a specialism in youth culture. Documenting this side of contemporary life did have its political edge - “It was about people who rejected some of mainstream society's values” - but it wasn’t until the invasion of Iraq that Marc turned his lens on protest.
“I went to cover an anti-war demo in London,” he says. “I was still shooting on film then and when I looked at the contact sheets and starting printing stuff up, I saw a similar energy, a similar vibrancy, to what interested me in the youth culture work. I'd naturally sought out the alternative youth element of the protest, anyway. I saw this as another facet of youth culture – the skaters and punks, the kind of people I'd documented elsewhere, were here on the streets protesting. It got me thinking.”
As protest became an increasing part of Marc's repertoire, the images he shot branched off into two strands. The dramatic shots - direct protest actions or arrests - were the ones that generally made the news stands. But still interested in portraiture, he began to put together a series he called Protest Boys, capturing an aesthetic and attitude in young men that had largely gone unrecorded.
“I think there's a lot said about young people not being interested in politics and frankly that's bullshit,” he says. “They may not be interested in parliamentary politics or the three main political parties, and who'd blame them? But out on the streets, there's a lot of young people doing all sorts of interesting and creative things to get their point across.”
So is he sympathetic to the causes of the groups he photographs? “I wouldn't put it like that. I'm certainly committed to what I do, I want to interrogate the issues and expose wrong-doing where I can.” Given his political past with The Militant, is that an admission of bias in his work? “No, not at all,” he answers resolutely. “I do accept that partiality exists. I'm a sentient being, and I'm a product of my upbringing, my education, my experiences. But I photograph what I see. I don't distort my work for any agenda, political or otherwise.”
At last year's Climate Camp, near Kingsnorth power station owned by energy giant E On, Marc took a picture he regards as one of his strongest. It shows a boy with 'E On – F off' emblazoned in marker across his chest. “In political or protest pictures, you need an anchor, like a placard or iconic building, to inform the viewer and give the shot meaning. Here, the placard is his body. This works aesthetically, but it also makes a point. Humanity's use of carbon, and the effect it has on climate change, will ultimately destroy life on earth. And there it is, written across his chest.”
After years of frontline experience, Marc believes heavy-handed, unwarranted and often unlawful police intrusion into the basic freedoms of democratic protest are becoming increasingly common. He has witnessed police violence toward peaceful protesters and was himself, in 2006, hospitalised by an officer while reporting on a demonstration. Marc sued the police, and won. He's become accustomed to such tactics, and is now increasingly concerned by the less obvious but equally worrying intrusions of state powers into the lives of protesters through surveillance.
In an investigation with The Guardian he and fellow journalist Paul Lewis revealed that the details of hundreds of demonstrators - their names, political affiliations, and protests they had attended - were being recorded on a database and held for up to seven years, irrespective of whether they had committed a crime, or had even had any communication with the police.
As well as targeting demonstrators, the police were found to be focusing their attention on the press. Through legal requests, Marc has found data about him on police files; he's been videoed, and followed (almost into the toilet) by police surveillance officers. “It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so serious,” he notes. This intimidation is part, he believes, of a wider strategy to stifle the reporting of protest. “There are huge political connotations to this. Good journalism should act as the eyes and ears of the public and keep an eye on the state – that's something the state doesn't seem keen on.”
In the UK, the importance of good journalism has been thrust into the public eye. “Had it not been for The Guardian's work, the death of Ian Tomlinson [at London’s G20 protest in April 2009] might have slipped into the footnotes of history.” Instead, a video showing what appears to be an unjustified assault on Tomlinson, by an officer from the highly trained Territorial Support Group, was broadcast to the world.
And as Marc's pictures attest, engaging in protest politics isn't just about back-room meetings with hair-shirted hippies. It's an essential part of democracy the world over that deserves our attention and, if we feel strongly about something, our presence too.
www.marcvallee.co.uk. All photographs are copyright of Marc Vallée.
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