When I was in Afghanistan,
I was captured, condemned to death.
That changed me forever.
[DEVELOPING NEWS]
I’m Stéphan Gladieu. I’m a photographer since 30 years.
The proposition was to make
a portrait of the North Korean society.
I had to find a space of freedom in the restriction that I had.
So this print seemed to say, “OK, I will make portraits
in the same style as the Russian or North Korean propaganda.
Could be interesting.”
This was a way for them to understand a bit what I was doing.
And also it was a way for me to overplay
what they gave me the chance to see
because what you see is a reality, that’s what is crazy.
For them, it’s not surreal
because they are in the
of every part of their life.
So this picture was taken in a science and technology building,
and you have a 3D movie theater.
It was interesting to see that
because this modernity didn’t really match with the idea that I had
of what North Korea is.
I didn’t realize that
he is touching his ass...
and that they have a very, let’s say, intimate attitude.
And when I show them, they were not very comfortable,
but they didn’t... they didn’t say anything,
so that was fun.
So I keep it like that.
I had a fixation of these ladies
because you have the most beautiful ladies
in the subway and in the crossroad,
where they take the place of the red light.
You need to understand that individual portraits
doesn’t exist in North Korea
because individuals doesn’t really exist outside of the group.
You as an individual, you are useful for the group
and you need to exist inside of it.
You are going to be photographed from your first school
until university.
You’re going to be photographed in groups.
Individual portraits is for social organizations.
You know, ID papers, things like that.
Imagine that when they are asked to pose for a foreigner,
quite strange.
I was not a war photographer.
I’ve never been, really.
It was more an accident than anything else.
I think everybody that has been in Afghanistan can tell you that
it’s a drug.
Taliban was there.
After, the problem was clear— that they allowed me to go there,
but I didn’t have the right to take pictures.
Each of them is a story.
Most of them are with a camera, with a small camera,
that was under my jacket.
I had it here with a soft trigger that would go like this.
I had it there.
And in fact, I just had to do it like that.
Like that, like that.
So I never saw when I was shooting.
I had to train weeks before to know exactly where was my lens
and to be able to put it a little bit up or a bit more down.
Most of the pictures have been done like that,
without any focus.
The Taliban praying in front of the royal palace of Kabul.
When I arrived there, nobody was there,
so I start to make some pictures of the place.
Two cars arrive, black cars,
and then I get scared because I knew that it was Taliban.
This guy went out of the SUV,
and he told me that he was the minister of all the historical places
in Afghanistan.
“And you, what are you doing?”
I start by a joke.
I tell him I’m a Taliban photographer,
and the guy laughed.
They asked me to make pictures of them with me.
I saw one of them starting to wash his hands and his feet,
so I realized that they’re going to pray.
I knew that at one point of praying
they will all close their eyes.
And so I slowly went on the side,
and when I saw them closing their eyes,
I shoot two, three pictures.
And then they finished the prayer,
and one of them came to me and said, “You took pictures of us.”
I said, “No, I didn’t take a picture of you.”
“But you took pictures.”
I said, “Yeah, I took pictures
because, look, the light was really beautiful behind,
but I didn’t take pictures of you.”
“Mm-hmm. Are you sure?” “Yeah, I’m sure.”
And I went back to the van,
I press on the camera to take the roll out,
I throw it under a seat,
I put a new one, and I came back.
I could have had a lot of trouble.
This one is sad.
At the beginning, this place was a shelter
for mental disease.
But there was this young boy, was probably 12 or 13 years old,
and he tried to tell me something.
And then he start to tug my shirt
and say, “Come with me, come with me.”
We went up the first floor and came into a corridor,
and in the room were these widows
that was hidden.
In this picture, you see seven, almost eight of them.
But there were probably 20, 25 in the room,
seated like that, no water or nothing.
This young boy pushed me there to show because, even for him,
it was something terrifying,
it was something unacceptable to see all these women
kept like slaves in this room.
I saw a public execution in the stadium.
I saw a woman that was beaten because she didn’t respect law.
I even had to dress like a Taliban with a turban and everything
to visit a clandestine school for young girls.
But I couldn’t go dressed like a European
to document these women that had the courage to risk their own life
to try to teach to young girls.
OK, so this is the Mai-Mai.
They are located in the Democratic Republic of Congo in Kivu.
They are taking care of large cattle.
They start to make a kind of mystical, magical ceremony
around the water.
“Mai,” so Mai-Mai,
is “the one that is protected by the water.”
So it’s magic that gives you the possibility to hide yourself
with leaves, mud
and to try to hide in the forest.
This first portrait is really like a traditional one
with one young witch doctor and behind you have three fighters.
You feel that the part of
is going to give you power
to give you face.
It’s not
you know, for carnivals or things like that.
It’s something that is in through their roots
and their identities.
You have trance,
the link with the fire and with the water,
dance,
drum, music,
so it’s a mix of things that is very... very powerful.
If you tell me, you know,
“You can’t go there, it’s impossible,”
you are sure that I will try.
And not once.
It will take me ten years, 15 years, I don’t care, but I will.
You know, I will continue.