Q&A with veteran photographer Danny Lyon

American photojournalist and filmmaker Danny Lyon is best known for his work known as “New Journalism,” a style of documentation that requires the reporter to become fully submerged in their subject, usually by becoming a participant. He began his career as a student working for the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), and later went on to produce his own books, including stories about outlaw motorcycle gangs, prisoners destined for death row and prostitutes in Colombia. Lyon later began to pick up on film, and has created many films; his most recent short film, Murderers, tells the story of five murderers. On March 2, Lyon will come to NAU to speak about Southwestern photography and film.

The Lumberjack (LJ): Your most recent book is Memories of Myself, a collection of photos from your work over the years. Where do the ideas behind your stories originate? Why did you decide to do work inside a motorcycle gang and inside prisons and such?

Danny Lyon (DL): I am anchored in the present. I have also always been political, and extremely conscious of how what we now call “the media” portrays the world.  So, any subject I choose is affected by that. I always try to do something that no one else is doing. I usually have a point of view that conflicts with whatever is the present, mainstream point of view.  And I must be turned on by my subject ─ I mean that literally. The work should be a highly emotional experience, and if you don’t have any feelings about it, how in the world will anyone else viewing your work [feel anything] from the work?  Bikers were pretty much despised when I did the work in the mid-sixties. They did everything proper people were not supposed to do, and they looked great. I rode a 650- lb. British-made motorcycle, a Triumph, which made a lot of noise.

LJ: Has your life ever been threatened while taking photos in hostile environment?

DL: Threatened? You mean by the fact it was minus 36 degrees in New Mexico last month and the gas company turned the gas off for six days? Or that sea levels are rising and all the great New York City museums that collect my work might be under water when my granddaughter is my age? Maybe it was the fact in 1950 I had to wear a dog tag (to identify my body) and crawl under my little wooden school desk “to protect me from atomic bomb blast” that twisted my sense of threat. What I do is exciting. But so is fishing in Montana with bears around. I like it.

LJ: What made you want to join the SNCC as a photographer? Did you simply want to contribute to the Civil Rights movement?

DL: A wise man once pointed out that “why” is not a good question. Normally, people do not really know why they do something. “What?” is better. I am more proud of what I did with my life. The Civil Rights movement is now regarded as a turning point in our history. I was there in the midst of it, and I was still a student, only 20 years old at the time. My parents were both immigrants, and the Russian side, which had participated in the first and second Russian Revolutions, were very vocal about justice, history and what we now call human rights. So I went. In retrospect, it was one of the more intelligent decisions of my life. Let this be absolutely clear: My parents did not encourage this, it frightened them. My teachers did not encourage this, they wanted me to stay in school and earn a degree. The Civil Rights movement was not popular; it was unpopular. And it was illegal. Almost everything the early Civil Rights movement did, and the group I joined did, was illegal. That is why [we] were being arrested. Present-day Congressman John Lewis, who was my roommate in Atlanta in 1963, was arrested forty times. He was arrested because he was breaking the law. This was exciting, it was visually powerful [and] it was “news” ─ though few national news outlets realized this when I began ─ and it was  history, unfolding right in front of me. I was a history student and a photographer. I went.

Right now in America, and specifically in Arizona, a witch hunt is going on directed at Mexicans.  It is outrageous, immoral and a violation of every concept of human rights that we value.  It is, and can be one, of the great stories of the decade. But it only becomes “a great story” when individual photographers, writers, filmmakers and journalists make it one. We invent the news. History itself is a creation. So who is going to create history? Fox News, or you?

LJ: What are your thoughts about the state of photography today? Such as the rise in digital photography and the question of ethics due to how easy it is to manipulate photographs now.

DL: Mathew Brady had to cover the Civil War with a mule pulling a wagon to process his glass plate film. I could cover the Civil Rights movement with two Nikon F’s and Tri-X, which cost one dollar. To cover the round-ups in Phoenix, all you need to do is put a digital camera in your pocket, which is the size of a large bar of soap. Manipulate? Even Mathew Brady did that. I do it all the time. You do it with your brain and eye. And if you can’t get it right when you make the picture, just erase it.

LJ: Some say photojournalism is dying, especially as a career. What are your thoughts on this?

DL: That’s what they told me in 1960. So now, I’m “an artist.” You make more money that way.  Look at the audience you can have with a blog or website!  I made books, some of which sold a few thousand copies. They changed the world.

LJ: What made you want to expand from photography to film?

DL: They are connected.  Film (mine are realistic films, with real people) is visual. Film has audio (like a tape-recorded text), and you can use music to keep your audience from falling asleep.  They are like an instrument and an orchestra. Why not make film?  If you have no visual talent (it’s a gift, and cannot be taught), try writing. I’m doing that right now.

LJ: What advice would you give to aspiring photojournalists?

DL: Leave school and go out and do something and stay away from New York City.

LJ: When people look at your photographs fifty years from now, what do you hope they will think of your work? Do you believe you will leave behind a legacy?

DL: I began in 1962. I have lived into the future. I’m not sure I like it here, but I am glad to be alive.  My pictures always taken place in the past. I like it there.

Lyon’s lecture will be held on March 2 in the Cline Library. and will begin at 7 p.m. More information on Lyon can be found at his blog, Dektol.wordpress.com or at his website, bleakbeauty.com, where you can purchase a signed copy of his book, Like a Thief’s Dream.