American photographer Robin Moyer has spent the last decades capturing enduring images of some of Asia’s most historic events and notable public figures. He talks to Gayatri Bhaumik about getting Conscientious Objector status during the war, the evolution of photography, and the real stories behind photographing Asia’s big names.
You began your career as a cameraman, covering the US invasion of Cambodia along the Vietnam border in 1970. What made you move into photography?
In a word, serendipity. With a degree in Motion Pictures, I set out to make documentary films. I bought my first real still camera, a Nikkormat, on the black market in Saigon in 1970.
You were drafted during the Vietnam War and were awarded Conscientious Objector status. Can you tell us more about this?
I was 25 years old and fresh out of the University of North Carolina when I went to Vietnam as a combat cameraman and soundman covering the invasion of Cambodia for UPITN and “The News At Ten.” I had a low draft number (037) and after a few months in the country I did indeed receive a draft notice.
Having turned 18 in Hong Kong I had registered for the draft with Local Draft Board 100 (foreign) in Washington, DC. My request for Conscientious Objector status was denied despite my Quaker and Mennonite background. I took months returning to the USA, hitching along the “Hippie Trail” via Bangkok, India, Nepal, Afghanistan, Iran, Turkey, Greece, Yugoslavia, Italy and France. When I turned up at the draft board I discovered they had reversed their decision as my letters of recommendation had arrived, and I was granted 1-O status.
I looked around Washington for an acceptable job in film, but nothing came up, so I started taking photos for the magazine of an NGO called Environmental Action, organisers of the annual Earth Day observances. They had no money, so in order to survive I began working as a self-proclaimed professional photojournalist. Washington from 1971 to 1975 was a fertile ground for interesting photographic assignments. I learned photography on the job, covering anti-war demonstrations for a wire service, at, I remember, $25 a shot. Eventually, I started getting assignments from local magazines and The Washington Post.
You’ve covered some of the most historic events in Asia. What were the ones that stood out the most to you?
I moved to Taiwan in 1975 and worked as a freelancer while my first wife studied Chinese language. I started working for Time Magazine in 1978, during the anti-American demonstrations in Taipei when the U.S. announced its intention to establish diplomatic relations with Mainland China. As I began receiving more assignments from Time, I rebased myself in Hong Kong, then Philadelphia, and in late 1979 I found myself covering the exodus of hundreds of thousands of starving Cambodians fleeing the Khmer Rouge, who were, in turn, fleeing the Vietnamese Army. I had never seen anything like that.
In May 1980, I was working in Seoul when we heard of serious anti-government demonstrations in Kwangju, in the South. It was the first gunfire I had heard since Vietnam. Over 300 civilians were killed by the South Korean army.
In 1982, I had a feeling something was going to happen in Lebanon and convinced Time’s director of photography, Arnold Drapkin, to send me to Beirut in the spring for a look around. I stayed for a couple of months and when Israel invaded in June, I immediately went back, staying through September, mostly working on the Palestinian side and witnessing the aftermath of the massacre of Palestinians in the refugee camps of Sabra – Shatilla.
In 1985, I was made chief contract photographer for Time in Asia and my first task was to organise a team of photographers to cover the snap elections and People Power revolt that led to the ousting of dictator Ferdinand Marcos and the presidency of Cory Aquino.
In 1989, I put together a team of photographers to cover the student unrest in Beijing that led to the occupation of Tiananmen Square and the June 4 massacre of hundreds of students and civilians.
And in May of 1997, the riots in Jakarta led to the ousting of General Suharto and, of course, the June 1 handover of Hong Kong to China.
There have been many more, but these are the most consequential.
Covering these events hasn’t always been easy or safe. Have you ever felt apprehensive when heading out on assignment?
Never apprehensive, but certainly aware that caution would be helpful. Having a camera between you and the nastiness is falsely reassuring. When on the job I’m not really actively looking around for pictures, more hyper-aware and receptive. When I returned to the Commodore Hotel in Beirut after witnessing the hundreds of dead in the camps, my colleagues around the bar noticed that I was ashen and visibly upset. I wasn’t aware of it.
You’ve also photographed some of the biggest names in Asian politics. Do you have a favourite subject among these?
I have made pictures of Li Ka-shing a few times and found him very generous with his time, and patient with a photographer who always wants just one more. Chris Patten was the same way.
Lee Kwan Yew was a pain to work with at first. He even had me deported for “working without a journalist visa” and of course, there is no such thing in Singapore. But we finally got along when he found out I had worked in Vietnam.
I managed to tag along with Governor Bill Richardson in Burma when he met with Aung San Suu Kyi when she was under house arrest. I sort of became her senior photographer, as we are nearly the same age.
I guess my favorite subject would be Fidel Ramos. We have spent so much time together, both in the field and on the golf course. After he retired, we would hang out in his office drinking Café Royals. He has a great sense of humor. He wrote the introduction to my first book on golf, “Golfing Philippines.”
We take technology for granted these days, but you were based in Asia during the 70s and 80s, sending photographs back to the US to magazines like Time, Life and People. How was this managed?
Time’s deadline was Saturday afternoon. To meet it from Asia, Thursday was normally the last day we could ship by airfreight. If we had something really super special, the editors could hold the presses for 24 hours, but the cost was huge. In 1986, we had a digital option if there was important breaking news after the Thursday shipping deadline.
I would fly with the film to Hong Kong as late as Sunday morning, holding a color lab open to process the film. I would then edit the take down to no more than a few pictures, hold a scanning service house open and scan the selects, transferring the files to 1/2 inch magnetic tape. I would then meet up with a Time technician at a little room in Telecoms House where we made reverse transmissions on a machine whose main task was to receive pages of the Asian Edition of Time for printing in Hong Kong.
Over the years, have you seen an evolution in the way world events are photographed?
The technology has changed, from the user-friendly cameras that shoot stills and video, to the technology for the delivery of the news to the media.
Unlike the journalist, the photojournalist still has to be there. In the film age, the photographer had to be a part-time lab technician and chemist, travel agent, safari guide, researcher, and logician. Now, the job can pretty much be done with a smartphone. The new digital cameras can almost guarantee a usable image in almost any kind of lighting conditions, especially very low light. And pictures can be beamed up to media outlets via satellite.
Watching the live coverage of the recent demonstrations in Hong Kong, we saw a sea of smartphones clicking away with dramatic stills and video footage uploaded in real time to social media and mainstream newspapers like the South China Morning Post and Hong Kong Free Press, graphic evidence of the change.
It’ss a brave new world indeed, fraught with challenges, dangers and the usual low pay.
You’ve now turned your hand photographing golf courses. What brought this on?
I’ve been playing golf for over 60 years and love the game. When I have time to practise, my handicap is quite low. In addition to my usual excess baggage of 100kgs of photo gear, I would often carry my clubs and find a course to play after shipping my films to New York. People claimed I played golf for Time.
There are great courses all over Asia. And golf can be a great entré to officialdom. I’ve played with generals and ministers in Burma. Lee Kwan Yew gave up golf but introduced me to his brother Dennis, and we teamed up to win a small pot at the Singapore Island Country Club.
As a side-line to my magazine photography, while living in Manila (1994 to 2004) I began producing scorecards, yardage books and brochures for some of the top golf courses. After I retired from Time, I branched out to golf books. My first was “Golfing Philippines: The Complete Guide to All the Golf in the Archipelago.” It was very successful with 15,000 copies, mostly branded editions for corporations, all paid in advance. It was a pretty good business model that I soon applied to a large coffee table book, “The Great Golf Course of China,” with an introduction by Arnold Palmer, was also branded editions for corporations like TCL, HSBC, and AIG.
What do you normally shoot with?
A photographer was invited to dinner. His host said, “I really like your photos. What camera do you use?” After dinner the photographer said, “I loved your food. What stove do you use?”
I try to use the right tool for the job, so I have shot with many cameras, film from 1967 until 2005, when I switched over to digital: from 35mm Leicas and Canons to medium and large format Hasselblad, Linhof, and a couple of wooden 8×10 cameras.
You’ve obviously travelled a lot over the years. What are the things you can’t leave home without?
A compass. My iPhone. Comfortable shoes (photojournalists do a lot of walking and sometimes running). A corkscrew. Swiss Army knife. A MacBook Pro. A waterproof poncho. A golf umbrella (for shooting in the rain). A blue blazer. A white shirt and tie. A Cambodian scarf is optional
What would you recommend for someone just starting out in photography?
I lived through the end of the golden age of magazine photography. We were only a handful and worked mostly on assignment. Today, everyone is a photographer, carrying some sort of foolproof digital camera.
My recommendation would be: Don’t quit your day job.
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