Antoine D’Agata is anitinerant figure: a photographer, a film-maker, a world wanderer, a member of MagnumPhotos. As an artist, he is most widely-known for his graphic and intenseimages (some of which can be seen above). But during a brief sit-down with LensCulture managing editor Alexander Strecker at Paris Photo, D’Agata revealed some lesser-known facets to his personality.One of them is his dedication to the workshop format.
For the past 10years, D’Agata has been traveling to the village of Siem Riep, Cambodia tooffer photography workshops to children and young adults at no charge. This program is part of the annual Angkor Photo Festival and Workshops, which D’Agata helped start. Some of the workshop’s alumni have gone on to become world-famous photographers. Other students were simply touched by the man’s indelible, strong character and his infectious passion forthe journey of photography.
LC: Can you talk aboutthe beginning of the Angkor Workshops?
Well, I feel very attached to this area of the world, to thecountry, to the people. There were three or four of us at the beginning, about10 years ago. It began, like many great things, as a project of love. For thefirst workshop, I had to go from house to house, looking for kids who might beinterested in taking a course with me. I had to talk these kids’ parents intoletting them do it. Perhaps some of them said yes because I was offering someEnglish along with the photography classes…
Now, each annual workshop draws about 40 students from around15 countries. It remains a labor of love, since the workshops are free for thestudents. We do our best to ensure there are some local Cambodian students butthe rest come from all over south Asia: Pakistan, Vietnam, Laos, Malaysia andso on. Our aim is to mix people, to mix energies. The workshop is such apowerful setting to experiment, to take risks. Many of the students return yearafter year—some have even returned to become workshop leaders themselves.
LC: Can you talk moreabout the students? Their backgrounds? Bringing together individuals from suchdiverse points of view?
We try to choose the students from a very young age. Theonly thing we are looking for is engaged people who are willing to suffer to makephotography. Recently, some of the most exciting student work I’ve seen camefrom Vietnam. The projects were focused on gay issues, a topic that is largelytaboo in the country.
As I said, many of the students we choose are deeplyimpacted by the workshops. Some have gone on to successful professionalcareers—one of my students, Sohrab Hura, was recently nominated to join Magnum.
But beyond the student’s seemingly different backgrounds, Ithink they share a lot more in common than they differ. Each student has to overcomelocal censorship or cultural limitations, but deep down, I find that they allhave the same desires—culture matters very little. Since I require my studentsto get physically, mentally, politically involved in their projects, everyoneis bound together by the intensity of their efforts. You have to let go to becomeinvolved with your work. During the workshop, we are in class for 8 hours a dayand then the students have to shoot before and after class. It’s dense, it’sexhausting, it’s prolific; the results are amazing.
LC: So, does teachingfeel central to your practice as an artist?
One thing that teaching has affirmed is that whether you’rea retired businessman in Tokyo or a boy in the Rio favelas, the issues in all photography are thesame: how to be yourself, how to express yourself, how to confront your ownfears. I try to adapt to the students but really what I do is help them bethemselves. I put my energy at their service.
That being said, if I could, I would not teach. Some part ofme enjoys the process but this kind of involvement is also exhausting. I’ve hadover 1,300 students in the past few years. I know most of them by name and Iremain involved in their work and in their lives. This takes up a lot energy to be so implicatedin someone else’s creative, personal processes. It doesn’t matter if I’m gettingpaid for the workshop or not, it takes the same amount of energy out of me.
I also use these workshops to keep myselfconstantly moving. I haven’t had a permanent address for over 8 years now. In thepast few years, I’ve done 90 workshops all over the world. It’s much more aboutgiving myself a reason to keep moving than it is about the money.
During the workshop, I’m completely engaged. At the end, Iask the students to send me emails to keep me posted on how they’re doing. ButI never answer. Once the workshop is finished, I need to give myself spaceagain. The space to find my own silence, to return to the darkness. This isessential for my process of working. There needs to be a line somewhere. Aftergiving myself to the space of the workshop, I need to go back to my real world,my real life—the life of my pictures.
—Antoine D’Agata, interviewed by Alexander Strecker
Editor’s Note: The Angkor Photography Festival and Workshops run each year in Siem Reap, Cambodia.
