The new faces of protest

Today we live in a very different visual culture, one dominated by smartphone cameras, which have enabled citizen photojournalists to make and disseminate images globally in seconds. Shot on a camera rather than a phone, and printed in black and white, Harriman’s portraits of protesters occupy an interesting space: their monochrome patina harks back to that older era of radical photojournalism, but in their global reach – Harriman currently has 331,000 Instagram followers – they are rooted in today’s social media culture.

“From the outset,” he says, “I chose to self-publish my protest photography. I understood the responsibility I had towards contemporary protest movements, but I also drew inspiration from pioneers like [the South African photographer and anti-apartheid activist] Peter Magubane and Moneta Sleet Jr [the first African-American to win a Pulitzer prize]. Unlike today, they lacked the global reach of social media. What I didn’t expect was the sheer scale of the response to these images and stories.”

An exhibition of Harriman’s protest photography is currently on show at the Hope 93 gallery in London, featuring portraits taken on marches for various causes, including Justice4Grenfell, Black Lives Matter, Extinction Rebellion and Palestine Solidarity. While not formally groundbreaking, his street portraits capture the heightened atmosphere of the protests and the commitment of the participants. Placards and handmade signs are a constant trope and run the gamut from the confessional (“I Am Now Recognising My Own Islamophobia”) to the witty (“Stick Your Riviera Up Your Derriera”), a reference to Trump’s proposed plan to transform the Gaza seafront into an exclusive holiday destination.

“Protest signs have been a unique and powerful tool going back to the suffragists,” he says. “They have a way of becoming tattooed into our consciousness. In many ways, they have been an unbreakable pillar for change across generations. They can make you laugh and cry in equal measure. I hope my images show how much I respect them.”

Born in Nigeria, where his parents experienced British colonial rule, Harriman is self-taught; he learned the technicalities of photography via YouTube videos. Though he has also found fame as a celebrity photographer – he was the first black male to shoot a British Vogue cover, and has photographed A-listers including Tom Cruise, Cate Blanchett – it is his activism that has made him a photographer for our troubled times. The sense of solidarity in his images is echoed by his passionate, but reasoned, arguments for social justice, which he articulates in interviews and on social media.

Harriman’s style of street portraiture was forged in the Black Lives Matter protests of 2020, which, he recently said, “gave a new visual language to protest”.

I ask him to elaborate.

“The anti-racist movement has created a new generation of storytellers: poets of light, equipped with cameras. I am part of this new tribe, along with many others like, such as Devin Allen, who is known for his Time magazine cover [of a protester in Baltimore running from police after the death in custody of Freddie Gray].”

Harriman photographs young and old alike but his images dispel the notion that today’s youth are more apolitical than their predecessors. Their investment in single-issue causes, whether the climate emergency or trans rights, is evident in his pictures, along with a deep sense of alienation from mainstream politics. “This Is What Our Ruling Class Has Decided Will Be Normal” reads one placard held by a keffiyeh-wearing young woman.

As Harriman’s most recent images attest, Palestine has become the most urgent focus for national and global protests. Though often homing in on individuals, his photographs nevertheless evince the collective sense of solidarity, empathy and anger that is the defining aspect of the protests. One striking image, titled Brothers in Protest, shows a Muslim man and an Orthodox Jewish man holding a huge sign: “Permanent Ceasefire Now: Save Gaza”.

Harriman has described his approach as “listening to the streets”. Of late, on the back of last year’s Oscar nomination for his short film, the After, he finds himself being recognised at marches and protests. It does not seem to have impinged on his ability to capture a defining moment. “To be honest, we need one another,” he says of his admirers. “Usually, we share a hug and a cry.”

I ask him whether protests actually make a difference; if they can shift political policy as well as public opinion? He directs me to his new documentary, Shoot the People, which tracks him as he photographs protesters across the globe, and illuminates his optimism as well as his activism. “The short answer is yes,” he says. “Protest movements really matter, but as the late, great Peter Magubane said, ‘A struggle without documentation is no struggle at all.’”

The Purpose of Light by Misan Harriman is at Hope 93 gallery until 18 September. For more information, visit hope93.com or @hope93gallery on Instagram