Photo Plus

The Pro Interview

Photograph­er Jillian Edelstein talks to David Clark about her South African roots, her dream job and her ten minutes with Nelson Mandela

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Portrait pro Jillian Edelstein has shot cultural icons such as Nelson Mandela, as wells as politician­s and other celebritie­s

There are two very different aspects to Jillian Edelstein’s photograph­y. One is shooting portraits of the famous, from actors and musicians to the occasional Prime Minister and President. The other side is her documentar­y work, which stems from an acute political awareness developed in apartheid-era South Africa. Here she talks about her approach and working methods, the key moments in her career and how she became one of the leading portrait and documentar­y photograph­ers of her generation.

Do you see yourself as mainly a portrait or documentar­y photograph­er?

There was a point in my career when I’d have said probably I’m a portrait photograph­er. Nowadays I just think of myself as a photograph­er, an imagemaker and story-teller.

What was your first contact with profession­al photograph­y?

I was born and brought up in Cape Town, South Africa and a very good female photograph­er who worked there took my mum’s wedding photograph­s. She also photograph­ed me. Something drew me to the camera and when I look back I was always the one who collated the family photo albums.

I emptied every penny out of my savings account and bought my first camera, a Minolta 35mm SLR

When did you start taking your own pictures?

When I went to university, studying for a B.soc.sc (which was a combinatio­n of Anthropolo­gy, Sociology, Psychology and Social Work), I joined the university’s photograph­ic and film society. I was the only woman and was granted the title of secretary. There was a darkroom on the campus and that’s where I used to develop film and prints. It’s a cliché, but seeing the prints appear in the developing tray was like magic. I used to go in at night when I wasn’t studying, and then soon after that I emptied every penny out of my savings account and bought my first camera, a Minolta 35mm SLR.

What made you decide to be a pro photograph­er?

After university, I travelled for a year and took lots of pictures with the Minolta. By the end of that time I had decided I wanted to be a photograph­er. I remember telling my mum, who was the powerful member of the family, and she just said, “Pipe dreams.” For me, that was like a red rag to a bull. I thought to myself, “You say that? Now I’m going to show you.”

For your first job, you initially went into social work?

I did. I was employed by the National Institute for Crime and the Rehabilita­tion of Offenders and so I spent a lot of time either in prisons or in the community when people were released. I started photograph­ing my clients, usually gang members or ex-gang members, or I’d be in places where people were being thrown out of their homes. Growing up in South Africa, if you didn’t have a political take on life, you were an ostrich with your head in the sand. My early experience­s informed and defined me,

from having to hide our servant because the police were looking for people who didn’t have the correct papers, to being picked up by police because I was demonstrat­ing.

You then went into press photograph­y?

Yes, in 1981 I moved to Johannesbu­rg and assisted a fashion photograph­er and then a commercial photograph­er, but at weekends I freelanced as a press photograph­er. Then I began working full-time for the Rand Daily Mail and another newspaper, The Star.

What made you finally leave newspaper photograph­y?

I remember the exact moment when I thought, I can’t be doing this anymore. In 1982, Neil Aggett, a doctor and anti-apartheid campaigner, became the only white person to die in police custody in South Africa. The picture editor said I had to go and photograph the security people and his parents. I remember having to follow this desperate couple and thinking I can’t do this intrusion stuff. It’s not for me. I cannot do it a minute longer.

What did you do next?

By then I had already won two press awards, including an honourable mention at the World Press Photo Awards, and I moved to London and started doing a course in photojourn­alism at the London College of Communicat­ion. Six months into the course, the photo editor of the Sunday Times, Michael Cranmer, came to give a talk. I met him and he started offering me work for the paper. He gave me portrait jobs, which was a new thing for me, and picked out that it was one of my strengths. I was sent to photograph people like Richard Attenborou­gh or Terry Jones.

Were you given a permanent contract at this stage?

Yes, I was about to sign the contract when the whole Wapping thing kicked off. Rupert Murdoch moved his papers, including the Sunday Times to Wapping, East London, and sacked anyone who refused to work with the new print technology. With my background, I felt

I couldn’t cross picket lines, so I decided to give up this dream job. Ever since then I’ve been freelance. I began working for papers such as the Observer and New

Statesman and got calls asking me to photograph quite big names. One followed another and I built up a fabulous portfolio quite quickly.

Why do you think you worked so well with people?

I think my background in sociology and psychology helped a lot. Portrait photograph­y is also so much about you and how you interact with people, how you listen and how you allow them to be with you. It’s as much gentle coercion as it is performanc­e.

What’s been your usual process for preparing to shoot a portrait?

Depending on how much time I’ve got, I do try to research, and it has definitely helped. If it’s a novelist I’ll try to read their books; if it’s a director, I’ll see their films. Flattery is everything, isn’t it?

If you can immerse yourself in their work, then I think it does make a difference to have that edge. If I have the time I will try to come up with some kind of idea of how I’m going to do it, but it may well depend on the day and the mood of the person, the circumstan­ces and the location.

Do you have much time on celebrity shoots?

Very often I’m given a short amount of time. When I photograph­ed Tony Blair, when he was Prime Minister, I was given seven and a half minutes. I find you need to go on a charm offensive so they enjoy being with you and you can stretch the

time. The New York Times Magazine sent me to photograph the actor Daniel Day-lewis where he lives in Ireland and they told me I’d have an hour. But when I got there and started working, that hour soon stretched into several.

Do you have an aim in mind – to capture the inner person behind the facade or simply to create a strong picture?

It’s a mix of the two – depicting the person but also showing them in a way that’s different or surprising, and that’s the hardest thing to do. But if you’re pushing yourself, or you have a certain amount of ambition in your work then that’s what you’re aiming for, to surprise.

Do you talk to your subjects a lot during a shoot?

No. I find that really difficult. I kind of go into a kind of tunnel vision, because I find if I’m having to harness the intellectu­al part of my brain to interact, it cuts off the creative side. Even if there’s music playing I find it distractin­g. I’m happy to talk when I start, but even then I’m already thinking, what’s the best background, what suits this person, how do I want to

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