CRITICAL PHOTOJOURNALISM

Nicole Tung is an award-winning freelance photojournalist primarily covering the Middle East for international publications and non-governmental organizations (NGOs). Her work explores topics such as global conflict and the aftermath of war, Native American veterans with post-traumatic stress and human rights abuses. Her clients include Harper’s Magazine, The Washington Post, and The New York Times, among others. Tung graduated from New York University in 2009 after studying journalism and history. She is based in Istanbul, Turkey.

The interview was lightly edited for clarity and length.

NT: I think I'll start with your question, “How do you approach covering news assignments?” Because I've had some time to establish my career, I’m regularly contacted to do assignments,  and am sent to places to work on specific assignments. But early in my career, I pitched stories to editors a lot and/or showed up in places where news was breaking and then tried to pick up assignments. Another way was to work on a personal story or a series of photos and then try to get it published while I was still working on it or after I was finished. It’s important to note that a lot of my work in the beginning of my career was self-funded. 

JW: When you were working on self-funded assignments, were you working on projects based on your location or the story topic you wanted to pursue—or both? In other words, did your location dictate your self-funded projects or your passion about a certain topic—or a bit of both?

NT: Both. I situated myself in Istanbul right after the Arab Spring, so after 2011.  I knew even before 2011 that I wanted to cover this region, because I was very interested in its history and it's such a fascinating area to me culturally, historically and, of course, politically. My initial thought was about trying to break stereotypes about the region and, of course, you inevitably end up covering stories in the Middle East, which in many sad ways, reinforce the stereotypes. But what I found was that there's just so much change happening, especially in places like Afghanistan and Iraq and I feel that it is very important to continue to cover it. 

So, I situated myself in Istanbul to be geographically close to the places that I want to cover. I also really want to work on stories, when possible, that are not just newsworthy, but go deeper than the initial breaking news—stories that look at the situation afterwards. For example, one of the projects that I ended up doing over several different assignments was on the aftermath of ISIS in Iraq and Syria, and how people were opening up their cafes and wearing Western clothing again and girls were going back to school. I was also trying to understand how people were dealing with the trauma of those four years of ISIS’ rule.

I also worked on a grant-funded assignment in Tunisia just before the pandemic about the situation for youth there, which is pretty appalling, to say the least. The economy is doing horrendously. The government has changed and became more authoritarian. Tunisia was supposed to be the lighthouse for the rest of the region after 2011, because they were able to democratically elect their own government. But that experiment seems to have fallen apart and a lot of young Tunisians are trying to immigrate illegally across the Mediterranean Sea to Europe. You're almost seeing the repetition of 2011. There are people setting themselves on fire as a way to protest the lack of government support and lack of economic opportunities. I’m constantly having to keep an eye on things because the region is so busy. I deeply care about what's going on in the Middle East and that's why I've chosen to stay here for such a long time. 

JW: Can I ask how you ended up covering the Arab Spring? Did you put yourself there? Did someone send you an assignment? 

NT: At the time, I was in France when all the protests in Tunisia started. I had left New York because it was too competitive and I knew that I wasn't going to cover international news from a place like New York. I was a young photographer starting out 2009, right after I graduated. I was doing Metro assignments for the New York Times and The Wall Street Journal. There were so many experienced people covering foreign news and I couldn’t see myself being sent from New York to work overseas. One photo editor, in particular, asked me, “Why do you want to go to a place like Iraq? Choose something else safer to do.” It was quite discouraging. But I suppose it also lit a fire under me to move closer to the area I wanted to cover. It was also a product of good timing—I was 23 or 24 when all of the revolutions started in the Middle East. I had already signed freelance contracts with several publications and I was in touch with a few editors, and so I was already on my way to doing more assignments. 

But then, of course, so much happened in Egypt and Libya. I went to Egypt at the end of February 2011, just before Mubarak resigned. I went there on my own without an assignment. I emailed a lot of editors but they already had everybody there that they needed. And then shortly afterwards, I crossed over into Libya and started picking up assignments there. I was fortunate to have a lot of very experienced journalists and photographers around me who were willing to show me the ropes, in a way, because that was the first conflict that I'd covered. And I wouldn't suggest people do it that way anymore. Editors want you to have hostile environment and first aid training, as well as some experience covering social unrest—even if it's protests or something like that.  (See Chapter 5: Safety & Risk Management)

So, for me, it really was baptism by fire. Libya and Syria were the last conflicts where you could go in and just sort of find your way. I think now with access restrictions and technology, it's gotten more difficult. The year after I started working in Syria, first by myself and then with my friend James Foley (Foley, a freelance journalist from the United States, was kidnapped and executed by Islamic State militants while covering the Syrian war), I was doing self-funded projects while also working on assignments—through 2013. But then it just got too dangerous to work and I went back to New York for a while. I took local assignments there before moving back to the region again—to Istanbul—in 2015. I've been here ever since, covering Turkey and the region. And then, of course, Ukraine. 

JW: Where did you go to school? 

NT: I grew up in Hong Kong and I graduated from high school there. And then I went to NYU.

JW: Can you tell us about your college experience? How did that support your career? 

NT: Good question. I double-majored in journalism and history. I'm a self-taught photographer, but I studied print journalism, which I suppose I didn't walk away with as much as I should have because I ended up becoming a photographer! I was already starting to do projects in college. There was a professor that I had who had interviewed veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan, and she ended up doing a play about that. I met one of the veterans who is from the Navajo Nation, so that led me to do a project about Native American war veterans while I was in college. And then a year or two after I graduated, I pitched the story to Al Jazeera America, when it still existed, and they ended up doing a whole series on the subject. They covered Native American issues, stories and voices really well compared to other news outlets. Sadly, they don't exist anymore. I was pretty engaged in project work already in my sophomore, junior and senior years of college. 

JW: So, it sounds like you started right out of the gate with an idea about what you wanted to do and what types of stories you wanted to work on and then you just kind of went for it?

NT: Well, not really. I don't think I knew what I was doing—I was just figuring it out. I think about myself and students today and I want to support them to follow their dreams, because we were able to do it. I don’t want to say, "Don't do it!” or “Do it this way, only.” 

Anyway, that's, in a nutshell, how I got started. It was a pretty crazy time—it was basically anything goes, especially in Libya. You never knew what could happen. And I think when you are that young, you have this feeling of invincibility—that you can do anything and still come out in one piece. I've definitely sobered up since then. 

JW: Well, yes, I am thinking about your friend, James Foley, and our mutual friend, Chris Hondros. After tragedies like those happen, sometimes it forces us to make hard choices about the best way forward.

NT: I was in Misrata the day that Tim (Hetherington) and Chris (Hondros) were killed and I was with them in the hospital and organized the evacuation of their bodies. After that, I did take a step back because I was quite angry—that is the right word to describe it. I blamed the cameras for their deaths. I guess I didn't know where to place my feelings. So, I went to work with the International Organization for Migration (IOM) in Libya, as a contractor—and was not paid very much. I knew how to deal with evacuating third country nationals and a lot of Sub-Saharan Africans working in Libya were stuck because of the war. The IOM was trying to evacuate them by boat, and so they asked me to go in to try and organize these evacuations. I did that for a couple of weeks because I didn't really want to touch the camera anymore. 

I went back to Libya as a photographer again and then on to Syria. When Jim (Foley) was kidnapped in November of  2012, we'd been on the road together for about six months by that time working together. That was very tough, but I didn't immediately stop going into Syria. I didn't stop going in until sometime around the summer of 2013, because I still felt very committed to the story and I wanted to be there if any information came up about Jim. So, I stayed until it was far too dangerous. There were kidnappings happening left and right—so many Western journalists. It's not that I wanted to take a step back. It was just impossible to work there. 

JW: At some point you have to ask yourself if what you’re able to produce is worth your life. I'm glad that you took a step back. I still feel awful about Syria and all of it, really, but I'm so thankful that you all had the courage to go and the courage to know when to step back. 

And that leads me to another question. You work in a region that you are very knowledgeable about. Do you follow the news? Or do you anticipate the news? Do you go to where you anticipate news happening and then you're hired? Or do people hire you and then you travel? Or is it a blend of both? 

NT: I do keep my eye on the region because everything is intertwined and interlinked. And especially with the war in Syria, for example, there's so many parties involved, so you have to keep your thumb on the pulse at all times. But I don't follow certain places obsessively or anything like that. It's just too much information. If I'm asked to do an assignment in a certain place, then I will deeply research what's been going on. And I also do anticipate, especially if I'm looking to pitch project-based stories.

One of the questions you asked me is, “How do you know where to go once you get to a place for an assignment?” And I would say that it starts before I even touch the ground. If it's a place that I'm not familiar with, I'll ask journalists who have been there recently and ask if they're willing to share any contacts with me. It might be guides or translators, producers—anybody who has knowledge of the subject and the region. And there is a lot of logistical planning involved. An example would be when arriving at the airport, do you hire the guys shouting, “Taxi!” at you or do you hire someone ahead of time? There are all these little things that you have to think about because it involves safety. Having somebody there on the ground to pick you up and run you through things is the best way to start off. And obviously, knowing where to go—I would have been able to do that research hopefully before I arrived. You have to understand what the situation is with access, as well, such as the need for special permissions to go to a certain area? Do you need special papers or identification? There's a lot of planning involved.

You're always racking your brain to figure out what additional details you can come up with and a lot of those things you don't really find out about until you are on the ground. Then, you just have to accept the situation and try to be diplomatic with the people you need to explain the situation to—whether they are the people you are trying to work with or the editors in places like New York. At times, it can be like a minefield. And at the same time, you are dealing with visas and permissions and what road you're going to take, how much you pay people you are working and things like that.

JW: When you are pitching a story, do you put a budget together before you pitch it to the editor? Or do you pitch it and then they say, “Okay, we're interested in this story.” Then you go and shoot it and submit expenses like a staff photographer? I'm curious how that process works for you. 

NT: Generally speaking, European newspapers are a bit tighter on the budget and like they give you a certain amount. But they also understand that if you cross a certain number because of plane tickets or whatever, it's not going to be a problem. Usually, they understand what they're going to have to pay for. I don't really enjoy working with editors who say, “Here’s one thousand dollars, that's your budget and that's it.” I feel like that just doesn't work because things change—your plans change, delays happen and other things like that. You have to have the financial flexibility as a publication to support the person you're sending to do these assignments. Early on in my career, I was having to get the cheapest tickets and take two stops along the way—things like that. Luckily, that's not as much of a concern now. 

A lot of media companies are, of course, thinking about their budgets and, as you know, photographers have to be conscious of how you're spending that money. So, for example, in Ukraine we have big teams of photographers. I will cover the hotel rooms for four people, usually—a driver, our local producer and guide, a security advisor and myself. And that's for the Times—it depends on the publication, of course. Sometimes we're out on the road for 40 days straight and then there’s food and petrol and we have two cars. It's a very big operation. So you know it just varies and I try to make the editors aware of what the finances might end up looking like if I think they haven't thought of something. But generally speaking, they understand what it’s going to cost. 

JW: Once you're on the ground in a place that's difficult to move around, such as Syria, Libya or Ukraine, how do you get information and breaking news about what's happening around you? Do you carry a shortwave radio with you? Do you get alerts on your phone? Is it through your guide?

NT: You speak to the local translator you're working with about the situation because it can change from minute to minute. It's good to ask things like, “What's been the situation the last day or two?” And, “Can you tell me about what's changed?”  “Have the Russians been firing or have they stopped?” You can learn a lot about that just by asking local people. Anytime I go somewhere and am feeling like something may happen, I ask people who are local. If the guide I'm working with isn't from the area or doesn't live there, we'll ask two or three different people, just to be sure that we have solid information from a variety of sources. Also, observing is very important—are people out in the streets? Are the shops open?

One of the very deceptive things about working in a place like Ukraine is that after shelling or missile attacks, life resumes very quickly. People go about their normal business very, very soon afterwards. Sometimes I've arrived at a strike zone two or three hours later and you are wondering where it happened because there are people walking around doing their normal things. Sometimes it's hard to tell where the location is because you'd think people would be either panicking or distraught, but it’s not always obvious. It’s important to gather local knowledge from the people who live there.

JW: Do you work with and/or stay with NGOs? 

NT: I don't usually work directly with the NGO for their own media content, but they do help you get access to people and areas. There are NGOs who have volunteers working to evacuate people on the front lines or in frontline towns, so you might go with them for the day to document what they do and also the civilians. But you're not with them in the sense that you're not staying with them. In Ukraine, there's hotels and places to stay. But NGOs can facilitate access to certain things that you might not otherwise get if you were just by yourself. I feel like it depends on the country. I feel like the kind of NGO model of working with NGOs for infrastructure happens more in Africa. In the Middle East and Europe, it's not quite the same. 

Once you know where you're going and the story you're going to do, the very next thing is how do I get there? Where do I stay? The planning and choosing where to stay is really important because it determines the level of security and safety you will have, as well. A lot of journalists have had to find different places to stay in some key places in Ukraine because hotels that were previously used by journalists and also the military were targeted.

And then preparation—thinking about how you will map out the story visually, what visuals you need to make and how you can accomplish getting them—the actual logistics—that takes up 80 percent of your concentration. Taking the pictures is, in a way, that’s the least of it. If you're good at organizing, staying on top of things and communicating with the people there who will work with you, you've done half the work. Another piece of advice is to be respectful of local customs and cultures, and be aware that the story you set out in your mind might change as you go along. Try not to have a predetermined idea of what you want to do. A photo editor might give you a very open-ended brief about what the story is and then it's up to you to have the artistic license, to figure it out and to make the photographs. I prefer those ones, actually. Also, be ready for a very dynamic situation, be flexible and get used to waiting—waiting a lot. 

So patience, flexibility and logistics are all really good skills to have if you're going to be doing this kind of work. I think patience is a very good virtue to have, anyway. 

JW: How did you start covering the war in Ukraine? Is it a country you're interested in? Were you sent on assignment because of your experience covering conflict?

NT: In early 2022, it was already quite apparent that something was going to happen in Ukraine, and so I was monitoring it. But I had never been there, so I didn't really know what it was like to cover it. Obviously, I knew that there was a war going on in the east of Ukraine, but I hadn't paid a lot of attention to it. I was actually covering a special operations forces training in the Ivory Coast for the Times when the invasion of Ukraine started. I was sitting on a beach and thought, “This is not the news anymore.” So I started looking for a way to get into Ukraine. I wrote to editors saying, “Look, I'm thinking of going to Ukraine.” and one of the magazines got back to me saying they'd send me on assignment. So, very quickly I had to figure out the logistics. I reached out to a colleague who is a photographer for EPA (European Pressphoto Agency) in Beijing. He's Ukrainian and I saw on Facebook that he posted something from the airport, so I connected with him. We were going to be arriving in Warsaw on the same night and I asked if he’d like to travel together and figure this out. So, we made that happen. 

We got on a train into Ukraine and the only people with us were fighting age males who were returning to the country to evacuate their families. It was very eerie. It was a very pretty intense time for me and because I'd never worked in Ukraine—it took me a while to get a sense of people's body language. People were scrambling to get out of there, to get food, to find shelter and it was very cold and I don't mean the weather. There was a cold demeanor, a cold environment because people were very suspicious of foreigners. Everybody was paranoid, so it was actually very tough to work, especially not speaking the language. By the time I left, I had been there for four months straight and I was done. 

Over time, it became a lot easier as I learned to understand the people and also as the people began to understand why journalists were there. They didn't always like it, but you know that's kind of everywhere in the world. After the initial panic of the invasion had subsided, you were able to more or less work. It’s become trickier now from the Ukrainian military side because the war isn't going very well for them. Things go hand in hand—if things are going well for the Ukrainians, you get good access. If things are not going well, you know to be prepared to wait, as you have to work there on official military accreditation. 

Also, you're not able to go to the Russian-side, obviously, after you've been so long on the Ukrainian side and you have to question the information that they’re putting out there. 

It serves the purpose of the Ukrainian military or the government, in most cases.

JW: How do you find a balance? 

NT: It's very tough, like finding the ethical kind of questions in yourself sometimes, especially when it's not to do with civilians. The attacks on the civilians—you clearly have to go cover that and there you don't feel like you're just pushing a certain agenda. And the limitations that are put on you by the military do push you into a corner sometimes—so it's tricky. It is really tricky, but that's the only way we can continue covering the story. 

JW: How do you know when it's time to take a break? Do you get a gut feeling? Are you self-aware enough to know when the trauma is starting to set in? Maybe your thinking gets a little off from normal? How do you know when it's time to get out for a while? 

NT: You do have guilt. It's on your conscience that I have this luxury of leaving whereas many people don't. “I don't want to miss anything.” is another very common thought that journalists seem to have a lot. But I think because I have been covering the war in Ukraine for quite some time now, I am a lot more aware of when I hit that limit and just go.

You know the way we work is also extremely intense. It is weeks and weeks and weeks of just every single day you are out finding news pictures, daily pictures, feature pictures—every day can be anywhere between 12 and 17 hours of non-stop working. You're not just waiting around for something to happen. You are actively having to look and it is exhausting. But also there are very traumatic things that you see and put away—temporarily. Or when you feel like your empathy is starting to go out the window a little bit? That’s when I think I've done enough for now and maybe it's just take a break. But you know, it hasn't happened that often. You're running on adrenaline when you're there, so you are able to keep going for quite some time. 

JW: Are there other things that you wish you had known when you started out? 

NT: Everybody's experience will be different, you know—we are all on different paths. But I do think it's important to cover the stories that matter to you because you'll be able to make photos that matter and that will hopefully matter to other people, as well. That’s my first piece of advice. And the second one is this is an incredibly competitive industry, with declining pay and revenue. There are some legacy publications that are doing well, but they're few and far between. If you're willing to pursue this as a career, know that it is extremely stressful. You have to constantly be thinking of what you can pitch. Like right now, I'm already stressing about what I am going to do next? You know, it's always a big question. And then everybody asks, “So, what are you doing next? And you're like, “I have no idea.” And then you go into this loop and it throws you into an existential crisis…  I just can't take the break! (I'm just joking). So I would say, have a running list of things that you're interested in, keep on top of them, do the research and find ways to pitch them. And even if your pitches don't go anywhere right away, the editors might see them. They might not respond right away or they might give you a response like, “We're not interested in this for now.” But it still puts your name on their radar as someone who is actively pursuing ideas and things like that. So, when you are not working, it’s not like you are just sitting there and waiting. Nothing will happen if you don't go out there and try and get it. You have to be very persistent and very consistent, too, in your communication with the editors and your peers. 

The third piece of advice is if you want to work in hostile environments, you have to have some level of training. It’s beneficial. Yes, the training costs a lot of money, but there are ways to get it subsidized. The training will be hugely beneficial because you have that on your CV or resume or something like that. And if an editor calls you to cover something that intense, you can say, “Look, I have the training to go and cover this protest,” for example, and they might ask if you have the equipment and things like that and if you don't, then don't be ashamed to ask if they can help you get the equipment you need. There are so many photographers who, when they're starting out, are definitely being taken advantage of. But they will never speak up because they don't feel like they’re in the right place to do so, especially for somebody just starting out. However, there are things related to your security and better pay where there is room for negotiation.You're not just speaking up for yourself. You're speaking up for other people, too. There's a lot to be aware of when you're first starting out. 

I’m just walking you through things that I've done which doesn't mean that it's 100% what they should do. It’s just what I do or have done. 

JW: Totally understand. I appreciate what you were saying about the first time you were in Ukraine and you didn't know how to read that body language. Being able to read someone’s non-verbal cues is an important skill to practice when you are working in intense situations that can change at any time.

Another thing I want to throw out there is, especially with Ukraine, is that there were so many journalists at the beginning of the war because it was not incredibly difficult to get there. That must be a formidable situation to have to deal with—the sheer number of other people with cameras all around you. 

NT: You know, journalists, in general, don't make up a huge population globally. But when they're all crammed into one country and covering one situation, it can be extremely intimidating for everyone. In those situations, I try to step back and take photos instead of going into people's faces. And I suppose as a photographer you don't always have to go and speak to people, which is a sort of blessing sometimes, but you still have to take pictures.