Aged 20, Louis Witter is a young photojournalist distributed since few months by Hans Lucas’ agency. He covered this year the Ukrainian conflict and he reported on migrant’s road in Eastern Europe. When he is not out taking pictures, he studies at the ISCPA, a Parisian journalism school. His pictures have been published in well-known newspapers such as L’Obs and Le Figaro. We asked him questions about his life, his vision of photojournalism and his experiences.

1. T W E N T Y
Y E A R S
LOUIS
WITTER
Aged 20, Louis Witter is a young photojournalist distributed
since few months by Hans Lucas’ agency. He covered this
year the Ukrainian conflict and he reported on migrant’s
road in Eastern Europe.
When he is not out taking pictures, he studies at the ISCPA, a
Parisian journalism school. His pictures have been published in
well-known newspapers such as L’Obs and Le Figaro.
We asked him questions about his life, his vision
of photojournalism and his experiences.
An interview with...
Left picture: Autoportrait
© Louis Witter - Hans Lucas 2015

2. First of all, can you tell me more
about your vocation as a priest
until becoming a photojournalist?
Damn, where did you find that? Are
you serious? (laughing)
When I was a little child, I was a true
believer. My father is an army officer,
raised in Saint-Cyr (the French
Westpoint), and I attended Mass
every Sunday. Then, I participated
to scout camps and so on. I was
really young and I wanted to be a
saint. It was a bit complicated, so I
decided that I wanted to be Pope
until I reached 4th or 5th grade.
I realized afterwards that being
Pope was complicated because you
know, the Vatican is a complicated
place to run.
That is how I began to think that it
could be nice to be a priest. I was
picturing the priest as a guy who
runs a small country church, who
speaks to people and participates
to social life.
At that time, I met Father Guy
Gilbert, the “hoodlum’s priest”.
He was working in the ghetto,
he was a biker, always wearing
leather perfecto and big rings at
his fingers, and he had this crazy
outspokenness. He
can shock people
with his words but
honestly he amused
me when he was
talking about the
ghetto. For instance, once he
said about a guy : “I gave this
guy an evangelic punch and he
understood right away.” He uses a
lot of expressions of this kind.
And then, when I arrived in
middle school, I noticed the girls
were starting to grow up and
to be cute. That is when I said
myself that being a priest was
not for me.
How did you become a
photojournalist distributed
by Hans Lucas, starting as an
amateur?
When I arrived in Paris, I took lots
of pictures in demonstrations,
particularly in those against gay
weddings.
In 2014, I participated to the Paris
Match price with my pictures on
far-right groups. I did not win, but
a friend of mine who was studying
at Sciences-Po told me: “We are
organizing a conference about
photojournalism, I am inviting an
old hand photojournalist and I
would like to invite a young guy
who would like to begin his career.”
The old hand guy was Wilfrid Estève,
Hans Lucas’ boss, and I was the
young guy. We chatted quite a lot,
we got along with each other but we
did not stay in touch. I focused on
far-left groups, I reported on Sivens
(the “Z.A.D.” aka Zone To Defend,
near Toulouse), on Rémi Fraisse’s
support demonstrations, etc.
In June 2015, I went to Ukraine,
then I did an internship at L’Obs,
and there I reported on the
migrants who occupied Jean
Carré High school. It is when
Wilfrid saw one of my pictures
on Facebook: he remembered me
and he sent me an e-mail. I signed
the Hans Lucas’ convention to be
distributed by them.
Since you started your journalism
school, did you vision of
photojournalism evolve?
My perception of journalism
changed: I thought this was a lonely
job, with a subjective point of view
on news. And you begin school,
you learn there are codes, formats,
and molding... And it is too bad.
It restrains the way you can act
afterwards. When I was in senior
year and I went reporting, I was
not following any rules, except the
logical deontological ones. There
were no writing rules, and it was a
bit funnier, I think. Now we are in a
professional mood, it is way more
molded. But it is life, after all.
This is one of the thing about
journalism today: I think it is
less going freestyle than before.
When you read books written by
reporters in the 80’s or 90’s, they
are always going freestyle, there
are drugs, lots of pains… Once
again I have the feeling that today
there are codes and ways of doing.
And I think it is rather stupid. For
instance, the report we made
in Serbia, Hungary, Austria and
Germany on migrants’ road: every
people I know went by plane, and
everything came one after another.
We did have no dough, so we took
Grandma’s car and we left. I think
this way of doing is far better
because we can say: “We did it
from A to Z, it was rough but at
least it has a bit of style. We really
left no stone unturned to make the
story we wanted to tell.”
Your blog, it is a kind of an outlet?
I probably should not
publish all of that on
Internet, but it is great to
have some feedbacks.
Because the thing I am the most
doubtful about is photography. It
is stupid, but the way I do, the way
I… Like, for my thesis I have to write
this year I would like to focus on
journalist’s role and the guilt he
can feel afterwards.
When I meet old hand journalists,
they all say to me: “I reported on
this war, that war, that one too,
but it didn’t change anything. I am
pissed.” But when you read what
they were dreaming of when they
were children, they all wanted to
change things with journalism. And
I really would like to understand
this process: why every old hand
journalist is depressed, and why
journalism cannot change things
like it did once? It disturbs me a
lot. My models are the pictures
that reawakened the world, for
instance the little girl burnt in
Vietnam, Tiananmen square and
the guy facing the tank… Those
pictures outraged people.
Oummah, from Lebanon, at La Chapelle migrant’s camp, in Paris.
© Louis Witter - Hans Lucas 2015
3 4
« I noticed the girls were starting
to grow up and to be cute. That is
when I said to myself that being a
priest was not for me. »
« We had no dough, so we took
Grandma’s car and we left. »
A clown from Sivens’ “ZAD” .
© Louis Witter - Hans Lucas 2015

3. An Ukrainian fighter from Dnipro One battalion
takes shelter in a bunker during a pro-russian separatists bombing.
© Louis Witter - Hans Lucas 2015
And today, when you see the
constant influx of pictures, how is it
possible to reawaken people?
Was Ukraine your first report in a
conflict zone? How did you ended
up there?
Yes.
I finished school in May, and I did
not want to stay put waiting for
my internship. So I looked into
several subjects and amongst them,
Ukraine. I saw that a friend of mine
was going there, I knew he was
covering this kind of themes, he
was older than me so I trusted him.
We talked on Skype, he told me:
“Hey, you wanna go in Ukraine?” I
answered: “Sure!” We booked our
plane tickets and we left.
I am really disappointed by what
I did in Ukraine. I think I was not
ready to live that. Even if I keep
asking myself since three years:
“Are you ready to take risks, are you
ready to die, are you ready to see
someone die, etc.?” And honestly, I
thought I was ready.
But once you are there, you become
aware that it is not really what you
expected: it is not shooting 24 hours
a day. When I was there, it was rather
calm, except at night. During the
day there was not many interesting
things for photography, and during
the night… It was really dark. The
other thing is that I am pretty shy. It
is rather stupid for a journalist. When
the guys were being bombed, I was
not really up to come close to their
faces to take a picture. At the time, I
had this big Canon camera and I just
thought it was ignominious to do
that. If the guy went mad, he could
have shot me dead. That is what I
was thinking.
My story was not enough tied
up probably because I did not
prepare it enough before leaving.
I did not think enough about what
I wanted: I left thinking: “I will see
what I can find and I will make do.”
In a former interview you said that
you wanted to do war reporting not
matter what. Did this experience
in Ukraine change something and
what did it change?
I want to do it even more now. I
left France bragging myself I would
bring back crazy stuff the first time.
And this has a lot to do with the
result. Until then, I did no more than
little demonstrations, stupid little
things — the pictures were graphical
because one had a placard, because
the cop was throwing a grenade, etc.
It was easy until then.
There, in Ukraine, I took a hammering
and my ego too. But it really gave
me the will to go back there and
to rework on it, to see things from
a different point of view. My will
did not weaken at all: it became
even stronger. The morning after I
came back was tough. When I sold
my gear I did not know whether I
wanted to stop or… But after two
weeks without taking pictures,
I said no, I can’t live without it.
After Ukraine, I went back to France
disgusted. I had lived crazy stuff but
there was not any great story to tell.
On migrant’s road, at the contrary, I
looked deeper, I met more people, I
talked more to people, I was closer
to shoot them.
We were there at the moment they
closed all the borders between
Serbia and Hungary, Austria,
Germany, we were there right on
time. And then they published my
pictures. In fact for the first time
of my life I achieved to repay my
expenses and even to earn money
with my pictures. I begin to earn
money with this job, and I am happy
to see it can work.
Which report hit you the most?
For now, it is the one on migrants’
road. Even if it was less shattering
than Ukraine, it was a thousand
times harder mentally speaking.
Migrants and refugees are people
who have no other choice,
sometimes they had my age, they
studied the same things than me…
Like this student in Alep, the guy
could have been a very good friend.
He told me: “My brother gave
medicine to the Free Syrian Army.
Bachar’s services caught him and
tortured him to death. Same story
with my mother, my father, and
my other brother. I had no other
choice but leaving.” You see 10 000
people telling you the same story
in one day… There was this teacher,
a guy from Mossoul in Irak. He was
an art teacher when Daesh took the
city. He stopped to paint, to draw,
to play music because they said
to him: “You stop everything or we
will cut your tongue and we will cut
your head.” You hear stories like
this all day long. It is really tough.
I am quite sensitive so I don’t know
if this job is made for me… I cried
during this report, when taking
pictures. When we saw this father
turned down at the border, holding
his dying kid in his arms… It was
impossible to hold my tears back.
But you know, that is the way it is.
But I was kind of proud I took the
picture that shows this insanity.
You are going to Irak in a
while, right?
In a month. With two buddies from
school who went to the West Bank
two years ago and to Lebanon this
summer. I trust them, and we trust
each other. We are going to Iraqi
Kurdistan during two weeks and
my girlfriend is coming with us.
She is going to stay in Sinjar with
female battalions.
With my friends, we really would like
to settle at the front line, near Erbil.
We also would like to go to PKK’s
staging grounds, in the boondocks
of Iraq that are bombed by Turkey
right now. We will find out whether
it is possible to go there or not.
Thank you and good luck, Louis.
Interviewed by Pierre Laurent
A father and his dying children turned down at the German border.
© Louis Witter - Hans Lucas 2015
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