National Geographic landscape and wildlife photographer interview

Shooting in Borneo



Photograph: Mattias Klum

Hundreds of feet above some of the oldest rainforests in the world, Mattias Klum hangs from the bottom of the basket of a hot-air balloon, gliding silently through the treetops.

Setting up the shots

In the months leading up to his 36 hours in the air, Mattias and his National Geographic team built tree blinds in strategic places that they hoped would attract orang-utans and exotic birds.

Some 52 wooden trunks and watertight cases weighing more than 3,000lb (1,360kg) had been shipped by lorry to the edge of Borneo’s Danum Valley where they established camp, and waited for the approval from Borneo’s government to make the first-ever balloon flight over the rainforest.

It was when the permit finally came, and his colleague in Sweden arrived with the balloon, that Mattias realised he needed to hang from beneath it if he wanted to get the best camera angles.

Safety concerns

Photograph: Mattias hangs from a hot-air balloon to photograph the Danum Valley rainforest.

His team, and the pilot himself, had warned against this flight from the very beginning.

The trees in Borneo are too high and the forest too humid, they said, for there to be a reasonable chance of ensuring a safe landing in the middle of the forest. So he was met with predictable resistance when he decided to hang from the balloon, but, as usual, Mattias did it anyway.

The first flight landed safely, with Mattias in one piece, but already he was thinking ahead. He wanted to try it again, but shoot from the top of the balloon.

After some discussion, Mattias’s team reluctantly fastened him to the crown ring on the top of the balloon.

He attached some pedals to the ring, into which he put his feet and hung on to the crown ring with his hands.

As the balloon inflated he rose to the top, but as the basket lifted off the ground Mattias was blasted by a scorching heat.

His cameras became too hot to hold. Quickly, they landed the balloon, and Mattias ran to a stream to cool off.

Passion for the job

He admits the stunt was crazy, but it is also a prime example, he says, of the passion he needs to have for a subject to be able to go into overdrive mode and make a documentary project for National Geographic that he can feel proud of.

Photograph: Lowland forest in Malaysia's Danum Valley Conservation Area, where skyward-snaking liana vines twine around dipterocarp trees that stand more than 150 feet tall.

‘I’ve always been very tough on myself,’ he says. ‘For me, personally, I have to have this passion for my subject if I want to do a good job in telling its story.

'Like a chef who makes sauces every day, I’m skilled enough that I can have an off day and still do a decent job. People will say that it’s good, but I’m not happy with my work unless I’m in tune with and completely captivated by my subject.

‘You have to be,’ he adds. ‘On these assignments you’re often in a jungle for 16 weeks on average, and you work like a maniac.

'There’s no time off. It’s constantly raining. You get homesick and you get physically sick. If you’re not passionate from the beginning about your subject and the job at hand, you don’t want to spend this time going through these ordeals because it becomes too much. You might even start to resent it.’

Borneo expedition

Mattias’s balloon flight in Borneo in the mid-1990s was part of a 14-month expedition in the country, which he has been documenting over the past 20 years.

The destruction of the rainforests and the slow death of Borneo’s native orang-utans and other species has consumed him, and all his images are taken according to a personal brief of whether or not this composition will attract attention to the cause.

Mattias says that when he is on his assignments he doesn’t think in terms of single images or what might stand alone on a cover, but rather he concentrates on capturing subjects that help convey the story he is trying to tell...

Telling a story

All photographs courtesy of Mattias Klum

Telling a story



Photograph: Demand for palm oil has claimed eight million acres of rolling lowlands in Sarawak, Borneo

Mattias says that when he is on his assignments he doesn’t think in terms of single images or what might stand alone on a cover, but rather he concentrates on capturing subjects that help convey the story he is trying to tell.

In fact, Mattias begins planning his visual narrative before he even gets to his remote destinations.

‘I do a lot of homework before my assignments,’ he says. ‘I talk to people and sometimes even hire researchers to dig deep into a subject and provide me with a shortlist of essential subjects to investigate. This is important initially because it will show whether a story or angle is relevant or not.’

When Mattias and his Nikon D3 actually get to the locations, though, these lists of preconceived ideas go out the window.

‘If you have a wish list and boxes to check, that can limit your enthusiasm and creativity,’ he warns. ‘I keep that initial list of subjects there as a sort of backbone structure, but when I get to where I’m going I try to open a new page. Regardless of how much I plan, the most relevant images are usually the ones

I could never have anticipated.’

Of course, the other element linking together any successful narrative picture story is the photographer’s own personal style...

Personal style

All photographs courtesy of Mattias Klum

Personal style



Photograph: Asiatic green whip snake, Danum Valley, Borneo.

Of course, the other element linking together any successful narrative picture story is the photographer’s own personal style.

A hallmark of Mattias’s images is his heavy saturation of colour, which he achieves partly from the natural saturation inherent in rainforests, but also from a wealth of flash systems and softboxes he brings on location – more than most people tend to use in his field, he says.

Sometimes he’ll bring up to 25 flash units because it’s the only way he believes he can capture the essence of a subject.

In Panama, for example, Mattias took an assignment to photograph kinkajous. This nocturnal arboreal mammal had never been photographed before because it spends its time 40 metres up a tree. Yet by carefully placing flash units on branches and securing themselves in treetops, Mattias and his team captured the first images of this creature.

Photograph: Mattias camped out in treetops with carefully placed flash units to capture the first-ever pictures of the Panamanian kinkajou.

That, of course, is an extreme example. Closer to the ground, a carefully placed flash can lift the colours in snakes and insects, and create bolder images.

A lot of what happens in the rainforest happens quickly, so Mattias has a strict policy of keeping an open mind to what’s around him.

A lot of the success in nature photography is dictated by intuition and sensitivity to your surroundings, he says. ‘This might sound a bit dreamy, but getting a good image has a lot to do with paying attention to your senses,’ he explains. ‘That’s something we’ve really stopped doing in modern society, and when you work with Indians in Borneo, you learn this. Others don’t understand.

‘When I describe my job to people, they’ll ask how I can sit for hours at a time in a hide waiting for orang-utans. “Don’t you get bored?” they ask. “Do you bring a book or a game or something to keep yourself occupied?” The answer is no. This is the time when you actually get to interact with and understand the environment – through sight and sound and smell. It’s like meditation.

‘When I was a teenager and starting out, I would photograph anything and everything,’ he adds. ‘I tried to find the golden nugget. But now it’s more important for me to find themes, and this comes with patience. The world is in flames. There are plenty of problems out there, and I don’t feel I have the luxury to just hunt for a few good pictures. I want to effect change if I can, so I try to convey these stories by remaining aware of all that’s around me.

‘I hope through my efforts I can show some places that I cherish, and inspire people to care more about our world, because it’s all connected. I want to inspire people to go into their own backyard and tell their own important stories. We’re all ambassadors for our own lives.’

Many people can take a great wildlife or landscape image, but what does it take to elevate your work to that upper echelon of National Geographic documentary nature photography...?

What makes a National Geographic photographer?



All photographs courtesy of Mattias Klum

What makes a National Geographic photographer?

Photograph: King cobra in a water course, Danum Valley, Borneo.

Many people can take a great wildlife or landscape image, but what does it take to elevate your work to that upper echelon of National Geographic documentary nature photography?

Finding your own personal style as a photographer is at the heart of what it takes to reach that level, says Mattias, who started working for the publication at just 23 years old in 1991.

‘If you build a portfolio and show a cat here and a nude there and a landscape as well, the editors will have a tough time judging who you are and what it is you do. What they look at is content and how you tell a story.

‘If you focus merely on nudes or cats and can show a body of work – 15 images, no more or less – where nothing is redundant, then you’re in good shape.

The editors are looking for creativity, as well as a solid understanding of technique – shutter speeds, focus, f/stops, and so on. But equally important, they’re looking for personality behind your images. That’s really the difference in what makes a photographer a National Geographic photographer.’

Finding your own style, he explains, is about trying new things and pushing yourself into unfamiliar terrain. Don’t produce what you think other people will like; rather, do what’s sincere. Part of this is allowing yourself to make mistakes because that’s how you build creativity and push yourself forward.

‘When I started working for National Geographic as a 23-year-old, I was incredibly intimidated,’ he admits. ‘They have worked with a lot of photographers, and I was thinking, “What can I do differently? How can I add anything to their list of successes?” Eventually you realise that your role isn’t to imitate someone else but to tell your own story. And that’s what I love about my job. When it takes on that sincerity is when photography becomes art.

All photographs courtesy of Mattias Klum