• Ravi Agrawal

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Photographs by Platon

But his work is not just about the photographs; it’s about connecting. Platon explains the process behind the powerful shots: how he connected with Putin over the Beatles, how Netanyahu whispered, “Make me look good,” and how Clinton showed him “the love.” What do his photographs explain that words cannot? How do they stand up against the changing tide of history?

Platon has a new book out, The Defenders: Heroes of the Global Fight for Human Rights. The video box atop this page carries my full discussion with Platon, free for all to see. What follows is a condensed and lightly edited transcript.

Ravi Agrawal: For you, what does an image capture that words cannot?

Platon: It’s all about time. We’re bombarded with so much information now. It’s almost impossible to have a moment of reflection.

One of my pictures is 1/500 of a second. As I’ve taken it, it’s already gone. It’s history. But there’s something magical about freezing someone’s humanity in time.

For me, that only happens when I’m able to tune into someone’s frequency. It’s not an intellectual process. It’s an emotional process. You have to think of it as an old-fashioned radio set where you’re turning the knob and trying to find your channel. And sometimes there’s a lot of static, and it’s a faint signal. Other times, it’s a clear signal, and it’s all there for you. People are like that. Their character is buried with layers and layers of masks. Other times, it’s presented to me right there on a plate as a gift, and it’s so easy to capture. Either way, it’s one of the greatest privileges anyone can have, to share human experiences with people.

RA: You use the word “old-fashioned,” and you’re also using radio as an analogy for tuning into someone’s frequency. But how does social media change all of this?

P: Since the internet and technology explosion, everyone is now a photographer. There are more pictures being taken than ever before in history. And that’s an amazing thing. Everyone now has access to this amazing experience of freezing a moment in time and keeping it. But I’m not sure it’s brought moments of reflection for people. On the contrary, I think it’s become a distraction for everybody.

I always want to take a moment and say, “OK, look deeply into this person’s eyes. What do you see? What do you feel? Let’s go beyond judgment and be curious.” My job is to find a way to encourage curiosity, suspend judgment for a moment, and dare to listen to somebody, to try and find out what their frequency really is. And strangely enough, when you do that, it broadens your perspective and helps you make better decisions.

RA: I want to discuss some of the photographs that are relevant to a foreign-policy audience. The first one I wanted to bring up was Russian President Vladimir Putin, who’s now been in power for well over two decades. What was he like as a person?

P: I was informed by the Russian Federation that this moment of history would happen in the halls of the Kremlin. One cold day in December 2007, I’m picked up by a KGB BMW and driven through the streets of Moscow. I get to the gates, and suddenly the driver, who’s an agent, turns the wheel harshly, and the car goes in the opposite direction, away from the Kremlin, out of Moscow into a dark, bleak Gothic forest. And I don’t know what’s about to happen. This is not what was scheduled.

In the middle of this forest is the most sinister building I’ve ever seen in my life. It’s his private dasha, his residence, and it’s surrounded by a two-story-high security wall. It’s like a scene from a Cold War movie. There are snipers all the way along the top, and you’re escorted into the building at gunpoint.

This was my first real experience of dealing with power. I have now become immune to it. I am very lucky that it doesn’t work on me anymore because I’m able to see the process for what it is. But, in those days, I have to confess, I was really nervous; no one had ever photographed him in this way before.

I’m led into a room. Eventually he comes in with a giant entourage: two translators who whisper in his ear, a whole gang of political advisors, and a whole gang of bodyguards. At that moment, you’re faced with a decision. Do I perpetuate this strange relationship that’s being forced on me, or do I dare to be a human being? So I said to him, “Mr. President, before we capture this moment in history, I’d like to ask you a question.” I said, “I was born in London. I was brought up by my mom and dad listening to the Beatles. And I’d like to know if you ever listened to the Beatles.” They translate in his ear. There’s some confusing looks among the entourage, and then his mood drops. And in Russian, he orders the translators and his advisors out of the room immediately. The bodyguards stay.

Then Putin turns to me, looks straight into my eyes, and he says, “I love the Beatles.” I couldn’t believe it! In perfect English! So I said, “I didn’t know you spoke English!” And he said, “I speak perfect English.” So I said, “Wow, OK, well, in that case, who is your favorite Beatle?” He said, “Paul.” I said, “Interesting. What’s your favorite song? Is it ‘Back in the USSR’?” And at that moment, he looked at the ceiling, gave me a really stern look, and I [think], “That’s it. Game’s over. Why was I so reckless? Why was I so clumsy? I came so close.” And then he says, “No, my favorite song is ‘Yesterday.’ Think about it.” And I thought about it. He’s sending me a subliminal message about the old days of power and authority of the Soviet Union through a Paul McCartney song.

And that connection, strangely enough, gave me some kind of confidence that we’re now equals. And his advisors were knocking on the door saying, “Can we come back in?” And he said, “No. Whatever he wants, I’ll give him.” And it allowed me to be an inch and a half away from his nose. I could feel his cold breath on my hand as I focused the camera. And that’s how I got the truth, that this is the face of power and authority in Russia.

RA: So many people who have written about him have described a man obsessed with history. He wants to be seen as akin to Peter the Great or Catherine the Great. So it’s fitting that “Yesterday” would be his song.

But I want to get to the pictures. We have two cover images that were in Time magazine in 2007. There’s a close-up shot of his face, and he just seems to me empty, emotionless, and maybe a little smug. Then you’ve got this other shot of him where he’s leaning back in a chair and it’s more zoomed out. It looks to me that he’s trying to project power but maybe he’s not entirely comfortable.

P: You know what’s interesting with the close-up shot? I was told he loves that picture. It shows him as the tough Russian nationalist that he is.

But I also can tell you that his opposition—the human rights movement in Russia that I have become very close to over the years and is now crushed by Putin’s government—also loves the picture because it gave them a banner to show everything that they believe is wrong with power and authority in Russia.

RA: So do we end up seeing in photographs whatever we want to see? Are pictures Rorschach tests?

P: If I get it right, everyone sees themselves in that picture. Everyone sees their narrative, their story, in that picture. That picture has been used in countless demonstrations around the world. People have photoshopped horns on it or rouge on his cheeks from the LGBTQ community, for instance. It’s been held up in banners in so many demonstrations. So much so that a decree was issued saying that anyone who is caught circulating this picture online in connection with human rights issues will go to jail. Essentially, that picture is now seen as extremist material. And yet he liked it.

Protesters in (from left) St. Petersburg, Russia; Mexico City; and Istanbul hold signs that use modified images of Putin from the famous Time cover portrait by Platon. Getty Images

Let’s be honest. I don’t think I’ve ever had a conversation with any politician ever about their views of power through the symbolism of Beatles lyrics. Putin knows much more about us than we know about him, and he’s not to be underestimated. This guy is a strategist. He’s highly intelligent, and he makes moves based on strategy. I don’t believe he’s a reckless type of personality.

We often underestimate these people in history because it suits us. It makes us feel more comfortable to paint a two-dimensional, dictatorial cartoon. But then we’re always surprised that we’ve been outsmarted or this person stayed in the game longer than we expected. So my job is to try and put back into the debate a broad look at somebody’s character. We’re often looking at policy. But are we talking about the character that drives someone’s policy? That’s what I do.

RA: I want to get a little bit of a contrast here. Staying with Russia, you’ve also taken pictures of the band Pussy Riot. They are a Russian feminist group and also a performance art group known for punk rock. You spent a lot of time with them—talk about that.

P: If people know them, they probably know the hardcore feminist punk rock group that you described. But what happens if we remove those colorful, aggressive masks? You see something very different. And you see two young women who paid a very heavy price for their stance on human rights, women’s rights, LGBTQ rights in Russia and for their criticism of Putin’s excessive nationalism. Consequently, because of their actions, they were sent to prison for almost two years. The black-and-white picture was taken after they were released from prison. This is [Pussy Riot members] Nadya Tolokonnikova and Masha Alyokhina. You can see the vulnerability on their faces. You can see they paid a heavy price. It’s written in their eyes.

Their trial was very interesting. Before they went to prison, they were kept in a cage in the courtroom like wild animals. And Nadya was constantly scribbling on a piece of scrap paper, listening to all the legal arguments. Eventually, the judge asked her to stand up and make her closing statement. I’m sure Nadya must have known she was about to go to jail. Nevertheless, she stood up nervously in her cage, holding her piece of paper, and read out from her notes. What she said to the judge and to the world, I think, will go down as one of our generation’s greatest speeches. She said, “I wouldn’t give people labels. There are no winners or losers here, injured parties or accused. We just need to make contact, to establish a dialogue and a joint search for truth, to seek wisdom together, to be philosophers together, rather than stigmatizing and labeling people. That,” she said, “is one of the worst things people could do.”

Now, I think that’s a very powerful statement from a young person who’s about to be imprisoned for her fight for freedom of others, to be able to reach out and say, “We need to debate. We need to find answers together.” I think that’s a timeless statement. So that message is embedded in the picture, that despite the aggressive stance, in the end, what’s behind it all is kindness, understanding, curiosity, philosophy.

RA: Let’s jump to another hot spot: Israel-Palestine. And you’ve spent some time with [Israeli Prime Minister] Benjamin Netanyahu.

P: So I worked with him two times. First time was at the United Nations General Assembly in New York. And the Netanyahu I caught that day was the savvy storyteller, the tough politician. He seems to enjoy the political circus. I remember as I was taking this, he kept whispering to me, “Platon, make me look good.” So that’s one side of Netanyahu.

But then [in 2012], I was invited to his home in Israel. As I was on the plane to do the photo shoot, his father died. And his father was a huge, heroic figure in his life. And Netanyahu was devastated. So he canceled all political meetings. Certainly canceled my photo shoot. But I refused to leave. I arrived in Israel and said, “I will stay until he feels up to being photographed.” Word got to him while he’s in mourning that I wanted to stay until he was ready. And for some reason, that created a moment of respect for me. So when he came out of mourning, he invited me into his home as the first person he would meet as he’s coming out of this emotional journey mourning for his father.

The Netanyahu I caught that day was the other Netanyahu: tortured, angry, volatile, in pain. You can see his tie is slightly pulled to one side. It’s not perfectly placed like the other tie was. It’s almost the same picture. Black and white. Practically the same suit. But it’s completely different in spirit. You can see the tension in his eyes. And he was emotionally volatile. One minute, he was vulnerable. He showed me his office and his desk with all the pictures of his father everywhere and talked about his father. The next minute, he was kind of aggressive emotionally, and he was gibing at me.

That’s a side that we all have. When we’re grieving, when we’re hurt, when we’re angry, rage is reckless and volatile. When you put those two pictures together—again, it’s only two fragments of a second—you could say it’s completely meaningless. On the other hand, you could say, they show us two sides of his character that really have informed history and are playing out right now on the world stage.

RA: Let’s contrast Netanyahu with Mahmoud Abbas, the Palestinian president. In the image that you’ve given us, he looks to me a bit resigned, very serious, maybe even despairing.

P: Well, strangely enough, that was taken about 20 minutes before the first picture of Netanyahu that I just described at the General Assembly. And when I look into his eyes, I feel like the Middle East peace crisis is crushing his soul at that moment in history. Your description of him is what I felt on a human level. It’s not for me to talk about policy. But, when you talk about someone’s emotional state, he seems to have low energy, and he’s almost resigned. During the shoot, he didn’t feel compelled to perform in front of the camera. He just sat there, and I just caught his resignation. On that first shoot I did with Netanyahu, he was the opposite, flirting with the camera. It was a completely different mindset from both politicians, and maybe those two mindsets help us understand the Middle East peace crisis.

RA: How do you plan for these shoots with world leaders, where you spend so much time getting them to open up and be who they are?

P: My shoots are purposefully unplanned. There is nothing there. There is a white background. Normally, there’s an apple box that everybody sits on. Someone told me more world leaders have sat on that box than any chair in history, which is the most bizarre thing. But it’s a blank screen. And that’s terrifying for me every time. Probably terrifying for my subjects as well. They’ve got no gimmicks to hide behind. No stage set. There is no glamorous setting, no drapes, no flags, nothing. It’s just the character, their emotions, their feeling, their body language.

I’ve talked to so many interesting people about power. Does it reveal your true self when you have absolute power? Or does it twist your character into something else? I think power, or leadership, reveals your true self when there is no one to say “no.” When you have absolute power and you can do whatever you want, you’re left with your own moral compass. And if your moral compass is not strong enough to guide you to the right side of history, that’s a very dangerous moment.

The funny thing is, that simple apple box, which I purposefully used to strip away people’s authority, becomes a symbol of power itself in the end. So many times I’ve had someone who’s been robbed of power say, “Can I sit on the box?” And they sit on the box and feel larger than life in a second because they know that Barack Obama sat on that box, Michelle Obama sat on that box, Prince sat on that box, Muhammad Ali sat on that box. And that does something to them. All of a sudden, they are being heard, respected, and given the same treatment as all these people who we see as ideal or powerful. For me, that’s the greatest privilege of all, to be able to leverage authority in the media and pass it to someone who has an inspiring, nourishing message for society.

RA: I have to say, I would be terrified to sit on the box. Let’s get to America and some of the presidential portraits you’ve done. Among the most famous ones is a shot of Bill Clinton that ended up being on the cover of Esquire [in 2000]. When was this? What kind of moment was Clinton in?

P: This was my first-ever president. I had not experienced the White House machine before. This was his last portrait before he left office. So it was the sign-off. Certainly, for Esquire, it was the most important cover story they ever had. I was not their first choice; I was their fourth choice of photographers. I was the underdog in those days. And they even said to me, “We’re very concerned about this shoot. Whatever you do, do not use that wide lens. What we want is a nice, dignified portrait of our president. Probably hand on the chin. Looking off into the horizon. Very noble.” I spent eight minutes with him, and I spent most of that time doing what I promised I would do.

But then I had a moment. I felt, “Oh my goodness, I’m standing in front of the most powerful man in the world. This is fluke. How the hell did I get here? This will never happen again.” Sometimes in life, we’ve got to roll the dice and place all bets on ourselves. For better or worse, we’ve got to dare to be authentic. I thought, “What have I got to lose here?” I had three seconds left before the White House administration was going to close the session. I put on the wide angle lens and to get his attention, I shouted out, “Mr. President, will you show me the love?” There was silence in the room. I think his chief of staff stepped forward and he said, “Mr. President, whatever you do, do not show him the love. Yeah, we’ve had enough love in this administration, Mr. President.” But then Clinton got it. He put his hands on his knees, and he said, “I know what he means.” And he gave me charisma. And that’s what I wanted. He was a rock ’n’ roll president. At the time, he was my generation’s president. It was the swinging ’90s. Anyway, you put me and him in the room, you’re going to come up with something different. So I got the shot.

I handed it to the magazine very sheepishly at the bottom of the pile of all the nice headshots, and I quickly left the room. And then, when it came out, my goodness, it created a real storm in the media. The press called it the “crotch shot.” They read into it something completely different. That this was about sex, that the hands are big, the face is smiling as if to say, “I got away with it.” Even the tie is an arrow pointing down. And, once again, it’s a picture of a true moment. I have heard that Bill Clinton likes that picture because it shows his charisma. Hillary, I’ve heard, does not like the picture.

RA: But Clinton’s legacy is different now then it was then. I’m thinking specifically about the #MeToo movement. The whole world has a new vocabulary for discussing power dynamics, relationships at the workplace, and how people use and abuse power. I imagine that same image would be seen so differently today than it was when you took it.

P: This is how history works. We document history, and then history changes around us as we discover more and more. This is a very important debate that we are constantly able to have in society, readdressing and recalibrating our values. I have photographed many people who were seen as icons at the time. And history changes around that picture. The picture stays the same.

If it’s a good picture, it captures their character. But even if history changes around that picture and our attitudes change, we are still able to look at that picture, and it is still somehow relevant even though the argument has fundamentally changed.

RA: One example of that, Platon, is this gorgeous picture of Aung San Suu Kyi, the Burmese politician. We know her story. She won the Nobel Peace Prize for being a symbol of resistance to the military junta. Then years later, she takes on the role of state counsellor and defends the military against accusations of genocide against the Rohingya. Aung San Suu Kyi is seen so differently around the world than she was 20 years ago. How do you see that picture now?

P: That picture was taken the day after she was released from years of imprisonment. And I certainly was breaking Burmese law by smuggling myself into the country to get this picture. She was released under strict instructions not to have anything to do with the press. I negotiated with her gatekeeper that day, and I was consequently chased by secret police in a mad car chase. That went on for hours after I got this picture. So that set the scene for the tension that surrounds her and the provocative position that she will always be in.

I remember I said to her during the photo shoot, “What would you like to say to the people who locked you up?” And she said, “Well, I’m looking forward to meeting them every Saturday for a cup of tea and having a civilized conversation.” And I said, “But with great respect, you’ve just been released from prison. Your life has been totally devastated by them. And I’m sure they’re threatened by your position. There’s no way they will sit with you for tea to have a conversation.” She said, “Well, maybe we’ll do coffee then.”

Now there’s a lot in that. My interpretation of what she’s saying is that she’s determined to connect and rebuild her position as a political figure of influence.

It’s a picture that’s very graceful, but it’s also a picture that is symbolic of determination. As with so many of my pictures, history changes around that picture. And years later, when she faced the criticism that you described, one of my friends in Burma wrote to me and described this picture again. They said, “It’s not someone showing us graceful flowers in her hair. It’s someone turning her head away from her responsibility to people’s well-being.”

The same picture is read twice: at the time and then with reflection. Same with Bill Clinton. If I get it right, I provoke a respectful debate in society. And I think our strength as a society is our capability to talk about these very sensitive issues. It is painful, and it’s very difficult. And people will be offended by even the debate about these issues, but it’s a sign of our health.

I photographed so many amazing people, particularly in the human rights movement, who have paid such a high price for the freedom of speech and the capacity to have the debate. And yet sometimes we are willingly giving up our rights to have free debate for fear of being canceled or for fear of raising awkward moments. I think a debate about our values, a constant correction and constant recalibration, is a sign of our health. And it’s necessary. If we all step back because it’s a bit risky to talk about these sensitive issues, then we are in danger of not ever evolving or improving.