Mr Viral
Chen Jie will never forget the exposed sewage pipe jutting from the sand. “The light was fading as I climbed one dune after another in the desert, the acrid smell sharp in my nostrils,” the photographer recalls. “I worried I might lose my way back.”
Now immortalized in his photo “A Pipe Exposed by Wind and Sand,” the piece is emblematic of Chen’s career-long efforts to probe humanity’s precarious relationship with the environment. In his 30 years working in the media, Chen has turned his lens to stark realities, investigating pollution in northwestern China’s Tengger Desert — where he stumbled across the aforementioned pipe — poverty in southwestern China’s Sichuan province, and looming ecological crises. As he looks back on his career ahead of the exhibit “No Consolation,” which opened earlier this month in China’s eastern city of Hangzhou, he contemplates the complex role played by someone who has made it their life’s work to document disaster.
“The longer you gaze into the abyss of darkness, the more sensitive you become to light,” he says.
Chen’s new exhibit is split into three parts, providing a retrospective of his most iconic photography. These works have exposed how industrial development has harmed the ecosystem, how disasters wreak havoc on communities, and how poverty, when brought to light, has ultimately led to improved infrastructure and living conditions.
“A Pipe Exposed by Wind and Sand” remains Chen’s personal favorite. The piece originated from his 2014 collection “Death of the Desert” for The Beijing News, where he works as chief reporter. His reporting uncovered toxic wastewater dumping in the Tengger Desert and marked a turning point in China’s efforts to tackle industrial pollution by igniting nationwide scrutiny. After his exposé, eight companies were ordered to pay over 569 million yuan (then roughly $86.58 million) for soil pollution restoration and prevention, plus an additional 6 million yuan (then roughly $900,000) in public compensation for environmental damages.
When Chen revisited the Tengger Desert in 2023, he found that the most contaminated area he’d uncovered had seen an 80% reduction in groundwater toxins like chlorobenzene and nitrophenol. Domestic restoration efforts led to most treated water meeting Class IV groundwater standards, meaning it could serve agricultural purposes and be treated to become drinking water.
His documentation of the desert wasn’t his only project to enact local change. Chen’s work capturing cliffside homes in Sichuan, some of his most iconic images, also helped spur poverty alleviation efforts. In his 2016 series “Village on the Cliff,” a line of children, sporting backpacks nearly their own size and headed by a girl with forehead creased in concentration, scale vine ladders to reach their cliffside homes in Liangshan Yi Autonomous Prefecture.
Asked if he was concerned that viewers might experience “compassion fatigue” when confronted with such images, Chen acknowledges the disquieting effect they can have: “You experience a shock, almost a positive jolt,” he says.
The report sent shockwaves through China, even making international headlines, and was instrumental in accelerating poverty alleviation efforts in the region. In 2017, the vines were replaced with steel stairways, and electricity, 4G networks and various appliances were brought to the villages. And as China raced to eliminate absolute poverty by 2020, 84 impoverished households from the cliffside village — where families had lived for generations — were moved into a newly built resettlement community.
These days, Chen’s creative output is moving toward more understated, subtle imagery. Rather than relying solely on stark, straightforward documentation, he now favors more aesthetic and empathetic approaches to draw in viewers and help them engage with issues.
“I once thought that the subject matter was more important than a photo’s aesthetic appeal in photojournalism,” Chen says.
In the 1980s and 1990s, Chen says he was influenced by photographers like James Nachtwey and Gilles Peress, whose gritty, war-torn images of Bosnia and Chechnya embraced a confrontational, visually striking style. But as his career has progressed, he’s found that the industry can have a narrow understanding of images, whether in news, documentaries, or archival photography.
“These past few years, I’ve discovered that photography becomes meaningful only when it intersects with art and other disciplines, allowing it to serve richer, more diverse purposes,” he says. He argues that in reportage, artistic elements help viewers resonate with the work, and that subtle imagery can pack a stronger punch than overtly dramatic depictions.
Early traces of this style appear in his work documenting the deadly Port of Tianjin chemical warehouse explosion in 2015. Days after the blast, Chen documented the aftermath using aerial photography, capturing a desolate, charred landscape where vehicles and buildings lay in ruins, their remains resembling shattered circuit boards. These stood in stark contrast to the visceral home footage of the blast captured by those near the scene when it happened.
“The sight doesn’t shock you with graphic images of bodily harm,” he says of his series. “Instead, it hits you with a profound inner impact — a philosophical contemplation born from immense silence. That silence, so vast and all-encompassing, stirs something deep within.”
After so many years covering high-profile stories, Chen has begun favoring systematic explorations over up-close documentation. Chen tells Sixth Tone that he is currently researching a “future villages” project in China’s eastern Zhejiang province that aims to promote local industry, adding that he’s using a more holistic approach, examining every facet of the issue, from rural development to institutional and financial safeguards at national and local levels, and even evolving social norms in the villages themselves. He sees these investigations as a rich blend of interdisciplinary knowledge.
“These rural areas may not have the grand, earth-shattering events I’ve documented before, but I’m still drawn to them and compelled to observe closely and create,” he says.
Far from weighing him down, Chen believes his time documenting the precarious relationship between mankind and nature has only strengthened his resolve to keep going.
“If we don’t seek out these stories, go to the front lines, and uncover the roots of these issues, who else will?” he says.
Editors: Hannah Lund and Ding Yining.
