A documentary photographer film maker has the privilege of expansive knowledge of the world, cultures, the processes of technology and business, and the small, yet magical moments of daily life. They experience exquisite beauty, both of the natural world and within human nature, but also witness pain and suffering, hatred and violence; an intoxicating mix.
As readers, we admire the candid intimacy of a beautiful image and rest our thoughts on the journalist who bears witness to the moment which is otherwise be inaccessible to us. Rarely do we get to understand the consuming need to capture this intimacy or the process behind it.
Multi award-winning documentary photographer film maker Dean Saffron has seen things; things that fade away a little when he’s surfing his 10 foot Tully St John plank in the Laguna Bay. He peels back the layers of a mysterious career with me and the consequences of having to vanish into the background.
“As an established commercial photographer shooting fashion, resorts, lifestyle and food, I was also shooting a lot of nude art for exhibitions and Black and White magazine. Since I was very young I have had an awareness of the randomness of where you are born dictating life circumstances and trying to understand the question of why other citizens can’t access necessities. This led to me focusing on human resilience and engaging with my responsibility of being a global citizen.”
Immersing in aid-work projects with World Food Program, UNICEF and UNHCR back in 2007, Dean felt compelled to dig deeper. This lead him into many world food projects, including a vast refugee camp on the Myanmar border and also a cholera unit in Dakar during an outbreak.
“While shocking on some level, this work was so important to bear witness to suffering. It serves as reminder of the importance of immunisation and sanitation,” he says.
The cliché of wanting to be a “fly on the wall” is necessary for journalistic documentary work. Dean is humble about his skill of blending in. He has quietly witnessed and immersed in such heinous crimes, so I assume the trauma must run deep. To observe, without disturbing the world you are trying to capture, I ask him, do you eventually begin to disappear in your own world?
“You do eventually become a voyeur in your own life. The heavy work and the negative stories are a horrific reminder of what mankind is capable of. There is a level of PTSD, but it’s part of the work-life,” he says.
“You just have to focus on all the wonderful things in the world and embrace people’s interest in your stories. It’s an opportunity to open up a discussion about global issues.”
In 2011, Toowoomba, Grantham and several towns in Queensland’s Lockyer Valley were hit by deadly floods. Dean was flown in first on the scene. Not for the short-lived gratuitous media coverage, but as documentarian. Jumping out of a helicopter and spending the next two weeks living on the ground, he not only documented unthinkable atrocities but worked within the community making food and helping survivors to cope.
“I have to feel and live every moment as the subject,” he says.
Dean’s work has appeared in numerous publications including The New York Times, The National Geographic Traveller China Edition, Black and White Magazine, Sydney Morning Herald, The Australian Newspaper and The Australian Geographic – just to name a few.
He is a man who respects the responsibility of being a global citizen and appreciates the privilege of being invited into people’s lives. This ability to bear witness to moments that would otherwise be inaccessible to most of us has forged him an incredible career.
As a young boy existing through a traumatic childhood, Dean recalls the father returning home, heart filled with hatred after enduring horrors of fighting in the Australian contingent of the Vietnam War.
“His job, saved for men young and lean enough to fit into the enemy tunnels, was commonly known as a rat boy and the psychological terror of being the first down a dark and narrow hole to identify and disarm sources of danger has never left him. Not to mention the oozing cankerous sores on his back from Agent Orange exposure that still weep to this day.”
“Like so many soldiers, my father married almost instantly after his service and set to work on creating a family in the hope of carving out a new purpose,” he says.
Both Dean and his brother were born with severe and complex illnesses and so hospitals were a common theme throughout the first few years of their lives.
“I knew from a very early age that I wanted to understand other cultures. In essence I think that is why I probably I became a documentary photographer.”
Dean recalls his experience shooting The Waste Pickers – a 2017 image series exhibiting this month in the National Gallery of Human Rights in Mexico City. The exhibit is a tribute to the unofficial, unrecognised and often unpaid labour that enables the massive urban sprawl of Mexico City to function.
“The constant scrutiny of locals signalled to me that it is not normal for photographers to be walking around in the most dangerous part of Mexico. This was apparent by the looks through windows and twitching of curtains which fuelled my desire to capture daily life.
“One vivid memory I have is that a black utility pulled up less than 40 meters from a garbage truck that I was filming. Three doors opened and revealed three men wearing immaculately tailored suits which was such a juxtaposition to the urban grittiness of rubbish recycling.
“One fellow with stereotypical gangster features followed his minder into a house where he remained for about 5 minutes. During this time, the guard stationed outside the house revealed his Uzi machine gun in the interior of his jacket and I gesticulated that my interest was only in recording the daily grind of seeking out a living through waste picking, rather than documenting crime syndicates.
“He then calmly closed his jacket realising that my interpreter and I were non-threatening.”
This year, Dean shot a mini documentary, Salt of the Earth about Noosa surfing legend, Tom Wegener. It’s been a career highlight for Saffron and earned him the best short at the International French Film Festival of Anglet.
“I have always had a fascination with organic craftsmen, driven to keep practicing their art and learning from process while developing a relationship with an object that in turn becomes the subject and vice versa. So, when I can across a guy making finless surfboards out of wood, I had to meet him.
“Enter Tom Wegner. When I met Tom, I was impacted by his pure stoke, his zest for life and commitment to green surfing. When I arrived at his workshop it was everything I thought it would be, rustic and character laden. Filming in his studio was one of the great filming highlights I have had due to the authenticity and ambience.”
Salt of the Earth will screen locally at Australia’s premier surfing film festival – the Noosa Surf Film Festival in October. Do yourself a favour and head along to the festival, if only just to watch this exquisitely joyful four minutes of film.
For now, Dean will head back to Mexico to open The Waste Pickers exhibition and to participate on a panel. While he’s there, he will patiently wait for more stories to unfold around him. “My stories have always found me,” he says.
After Mexico, he will sink his teeth into tuition workshops to encourage all levels of photo enthusiasts to enhance their skills further on a National scale, sharing his wealth of knowledge with kids workshops, documentary workshops and fine art nudes. (Expressions of interest are welcome via email on his website)
The infectious fun and zest for life that spills out of Saffron is quite a gift to those around him. The juxtapose of a complex and inquisitive mind ticking away behind this vibrant smiling face is unique. Again, the man has seen things.
“I have to do this because I give images a voice. I get to bring other people into the experience and then delve into the journey it takes them on. It’s so important.
“I have to give a voice to those who have none.”
For a truly moving and eye-opening experience, view the world through Dean’s lens at www.deansaffron.com.
