Photojournalist Sam Tarling on documenting the Syria crisis

By Rachel Segal Hamilton IdeasTap 27/03/14

Beirut-based photojournalist Sam Tarling, 28, has been covering the Middle East for the past five years. His pictures have been used by Time Magazine, CNN, The Wall Street Journal, The Guardian and Oxfam, among others. He talks to us about being a self-taught photographer and what it’s like working in a conflict...

Did you study photography? Or something like Middle Eastern studies?

Nothing like that. I’m a failed musician. When I realised I wasn’t going to make it in music, I went to work at a local newspaper in Westbury and Wiltshire, White Horse News. I was writing the stories and taking the pictures. At 23 I went to Lebanon for a month to do an internship with the Daily Star, an English language newspaper. A friend who was there already sorted out the internship.

At the end of the month there was a job going at the paper as a sub-editor, which I took. I managed to write some stories and submit photos while working for them. That helped me then get a job at an English language magazine called Executive. For them I was a photographer who also had to sub-edit. By December 2013 I’d managed to pick up enough freelance photography work to not have to do the sub-editing shifts.

Does that mean that you’re self-taught?

Completely. It was a steep learning curve. My pictures were getting printed in the newspaper from day one and they were terrible so I had to do something about that. I looked online, bought a load of photo magazines and read every tutorial going until I figured it out by trial and error. Botching an assignment is a good way to learn.

Have you always shot digital?

Yes. I don’t know anything about film. It’s a real shame. I’d love to go back one day and do that. I’ve always used Canon, because that’s what they had [at the paper where I started]. Now I’ve got a 5D mark III and a 5D mark II, but I wish I had two 5D mark IIIs. I’ve been growing my stable of lenses. I normally shoot with a 35mm and a 135mm. I have a 24mm, which I use from time to time, and I just got myself a 50mm to use for a job next week because it’s portrait stuff. While it’s lovely to use primes, you do need to make sure you have your bases covered if you’re doing a wide variety of work.

There was a terrorist attack in Beirut in February. How dangerous was the situation when you arrived compared to now?

I was eased into it gently because nothing much was happening when I arrived. It was the summer and it was the hottest place I’d ever been. It was wonderful. The situation has deteriorated but it’s not as bad as it sounds from the headlines. You only hear about the bad stuff, which if you’re a block away, isn’t going to affect you. It’s stressful, as a photographer, because you’re trying to cover these stories and it’s all happening so fast. I bought a scooter so I could get around the traffic but if you’re not there within the first 10 minutes, you’re not going to get anything that’s going to sell. It’s really hard.

How did you adjust to life in Lebanon?

The journalistic community in Beirut is amazing – a really tight group of people who all look out for each other, so that helps. There was a good bunch of people that started at the Daily Star around the same time I did so I landed in a big group of friends, people who came from England and elsewhere. I was lucky.

How did you build up a client base for your photography?

All my friends were writing for publications so if I knew they were working on stories, I’d go with them, take pictures and submit them with their stories. One of the first ones I did was for Esquire Middle East. My buddy pitched to them, they liked it and I worked with him on multiple stories. That’s the best way for people getting started. If your pictures come with a story, they’re easier to sell.

The NGOs approached me and with them I’m an entity in my own right, rather than an add-on. At the moment I’m trying to make that transition so more people say, “Oh let’s give Sam a call” rather than, “Sam took some pictures for X’s story”.

What kind of insurance do you have?

I don’t have any insurance [for my kit]. I had insurance, which was expensive, and then I read the small print and realised that it wouldn’t cover me at all unless I was back home and dropped it in my bedroom at my parents’ house. When’s that gong to happen?

If I’m going somewhere like Syria I’ll get special insurance for that, which isn’t too bad, but not for equipment.

When did you first go to Syria?

The first time I went was just after Christmas in 2012. A writer friend and I had been waiting for over a month to try and get into Baba Amr in Homs with the help of a human rights organisation but they kept pushing back the dates. It was hard to prepare. Your bag’s constantly packed, you stop making any plans because you don’t want to let people down. It’s been like that almost every time I’ve gone because you’re waiting for weird routes to be open and checkpoints not to be there.

How did you finally get across the border?

They [the human rights organisation] put us in touch with some smugglers and vouched for us. The smugglers are Syrian guys who I think have always been smugglers but they’ve switched their business from commodities to guns and people because that’s what’s making them money now. The more time I’ve spent there the more personal contacts I’ve made so it gets easier to hook up. I didn’t have a fixer the first time but have on subsequent occasions. I met him through some smuggler connections. We’ve become good friends. He’s from a town called Qusair, which at one point was besieged and it was awful. You’re on the phone hearing shells landing and when there’s someone you actually care about and you’re thinking, is he going to come out of this alive, it’s hard. Obviously it’s much harder for him.

What can you do in a conflict situation to minimise risks to your safety?

I always wear body armour. It’s a pain but really worth having – it saved my life once. Keep a first aid kit and know how to use it. I did hostile environment training through the Rory Peck Trust. And just don’t be stupid. If people are firing shells, don’t run out unless you have to and make sure you take good cover. Figure out where [the shells] are coming from and how many walls you can put between you and whatever they’re likely to land on.

But then you get people like Goran Tomasovic who stand there and take photos of shells exploding 12 feet in front of them – you can’t really argue with that because you get better pictures in the middle of it. You can’t be too cautious but then, of course, nothing’s worth dying for. It’s balancing those two things.

You’ve also photographed in hospitals and schools, showing a more personal side to the conflict. How did you get access to these spaces and were people wary of your presence?

Often with those pictures you’re working with aid agencies. Some of the hospital pictures were for the International Medical Corps. I spent a brilliant couple of days with them. There were women breastfeeding, things like that, and I couldn’t believe that they opened up to us. Because you’re coming from an organisation they respect and appreciate, they give you that respect too. You have to be careful with that. If you’re working for a newspaper, when terrible things are happening people understand why you’re there and want their story to be told.

Are there any photographs you decided not to take?

There was one time in Syria when they were dragging people’s bodies out of the rubble of a building that had ben bombed. They didn’t mind us taking pictures when they were taking out this kid’s body but there was this woman and – maybe because her hair wasn’t covered – it wasn’t considered acceptable so I just put my camera down. But it’s really rare.

What advice do you have for a photojournalist starting out?

Don’t think you can go somewhere and just be a photographer. Have a second source of income. I was lucky with the magazine in that as long as I got my pictures to them by the end of the month I could do what I liked with my time. That gave me a lot of flexibility. If I hadn’t had that, and I hadn’t had the copy editing shifts before that, there’s no way I could have survived.

For more articles, jobs and opportunities, visit our Photography hub.