The oldest examples we have are two daguerreotypes: the first depicts the fire of the city of Hamburg in 1842; the second, from 1843, captures the signing of the peace treaty between France and China in Whampoa.
This is evidence that photographs have been used since those times to document events, a role now played by photojournalists who tell stories through images.
Brendan Esposito has been in this field for 33 years, after pursuing a career in nursing in Melbourne, while his fiancée (now wife) lived in Sydney.
“We would write letters to each other and in some of those letters I’d mentioned about wanting to be a photographer, which is really unusual because I didn’t own a camera or know anyone in this field,” he says.
“Photography has become more than a passion for me; it’s a way of life now.
“Shades of colour, composition, dark and light: that’s how I see life these days.”
Today, Esposito is a photojournalist for the ABC in Sydney and collaborates with the Special Reporting Team (SRT), a group of around 20 national journalists, on long-term projects.
He also covers many big issues, such as natural disasters.
Meetings take place three times a week, in which they discuss upcoming stories, suggestions and ideas.
“They look for my input in regards to how a story should be visualised and perceived,” Esposito explains.
Esposito was in Italy during the outbreak of COVID-19; he’d arrived on March 22 and was on a holiday with his wife to trace his Italian roots and visit the island of Ustica, where part of his family hails from.
“Because of coronavirus, we couldn’t get across from Palermo to Ustica; authorities were only allowing access to residents,” he says, disappointed that he wasn’t able to visit the island.
Although on holiday, Esposito had all his photographic equipment with him in Italy and, having found himself in the midst of a global pandemic, he began to document what the country was going through.
“I began to capture the isolation and restrictions, and how people were going about their daily life,” he says.
“The Amalfi Coast was empty and restaurant owners didn’t know what to do because there were no tourists.”
It was soon clear to the couple that it was time to return home due to the worsening situation in Italy, with an increase in deaths and infections and the impending nationwide lockdown.
“I’d originally told my wife I’d put her on a plane home and I’d stay in Italy and continue documenting COVID-19,” he says.
“But organisations around the world were pulling their journalists out of Europe because it was getting very serious and the ABC told me to come home.
“In Australia, the pandemic has been difficult to shoot because, thankfully, we haven’t had the tragedies that have happened in Italy and other countries; once you’ve seen pictures of empty streets, where do you go from there?
“In Australia, we don’t have access to hospitals, whereas in Europe it’s completely different.
“There has clearly been a lot of tragedy and death in Europe and photojournalists are documenting that.”
There was much more to capture at the beginning of the year in Australia, when bushfires devastated the country.
A shot taken by Esposito, of a firefighter in Bilpin, NSW, during the Australian bushfire crisis earlier this year
Esposito explains that in order to have access to areas affected by bushfires, you require a special permit and suitable equipment (boots and a fireproof uniform, helmet, glasses and mask), and flashing lights on the car to account for poor visibility.
“You can’t get into fire zones in Australia unless you’ve done your Rural Fire Service (RFS) course,” he says.
Even from a psychological point of view, documenting a disaster is difficult and not for the faint-hearted.
“You have to be a special type of person to want to photograph these things,” Esposito says.
“When I was younger I wanted to go into a war zone and photograph conflict, but as I got older I wondered why.
“You need to have a purpose and top photojournalists who document war zones go there for a reason: they believe in the cause and why they’re photographing.
“As you get older and more mature in the position, you understand the importance and responsibility you have to be truthful in your work and to not editorialise, but show what’s actually happening.
“I’ve learnt to compartmentalise and move away from the emotion of the situation to do what needs to be done.”
It’s almost a defence mechanism for Esposito, who often documents natural disasters, refugee camps, crime scenes and funerals to which he wasn’t invited, but to which attending is part of his work and in the public interest.
“If you approach it in the right way and learn how to balance your life, you get through that,” he says.
Among Esposito’s favourite shots is the photo for which he won the Headon Portrait Prize in 2008 (below): it portrays two children in Cambodia, drugged and sleeping on the street covered by a mosquito net.
The photo is part of a series that the photographer dedicated to children living on the streets and addicted to sniffing glue.
After more than three decades devoted to photojournalism and with various awards under his belt, Esposito is still committed to developing his artistic skills, focusing on the study of colour and composition.
“I still believe that for me, photography has been a learned trait, not a natural one,” he concludes.
To admire Esposito’s incredible skills, check out his Instagram account.
