We Animals: Deniz Tapkan
Amongst those speaking for animals, documentary photographers play invaluable roles: putting themselves in the places where animals arguably suffer the most, in order to record all-too-often hidden truths and reveal them to the world. Without these extraordinary activists, far fewer would know about the travesties routinely meted out to animals, both wild and farmed, or witness the individuals trapped within systems.
One of the leading agencies in this field is We Animals, founded by Jo-Anne McArthur. In 2022, We Animals published Hidden: Animals in the Anthropocene. “The photojournalists featured in HIDDEN have entered some of the darkest, most unsettling places in the world,” wrote actor and advocate Joaquin Phoenix in its foreword. “The images they have captured are a searing reminder of our unpardonable behavior towards animals and will serve as beacons of change for years to come.”
In a new series, The Empathy Project celebrates the work of We Animals by asking some of its photographers to talk about their favourite images. This is an interview with Istanbul-based animal photojournalist and ethologist Deniz Tapkan.
“I keep my creativity in second place during animal photojournalism,” says Istanbul-based photographer, Deniz Tapkan, in her interview with We Animals. “ The subject is not me, it is the animal in front of me. I try to understand them; I start to observe the environment they live in, what kind of ground they step on, what kind of containers their food and water is in, their contact with the external environment, the way people treat them …”
The centering of the animal says much about the values of those drawn to animal documentary photography: a deep concern for the Other, spurred by outrage at the systems of relentless violence practiced against them. Cengiz and I talk about what animals mean to those who document that violence; in essence, what they love about animals. “In the minds of humans, there are ‘imaginary orders’ - money, insurance systems, borders, law, etc,” muses Tapkan. “People work for imaginary orders all the time [but] objective reality is nature, animals, plants. And since animals other than humans do not have imaginary orders, they live in a more realistic world. I think the origin of the joy we feel when we take care of animals is that their world preserves its purity. They are the representation of a life that is perhaps in our essence but is now far away. Their unconditional love and the balanced connection they have with nature are characteristics humans do not have.”
Her views offer a tragic contrast to what is happening to the stray dogs of Turkey right now. From a country once famed for its compassion towards stray animals, culture has now shifted: last year, the Turkish government passed a controversial law to ‘remove’ the country’s estimated four million stray dogs from its streets. The law seems to have unleashed a campaign of historical violence simmering beneath the surface, with reports emerging of extraordinary cruelty. A land of reputed peace for animals has turned into yet another land of war.
In Istanbul, stray dogs are often cared for by volunteers and residents who put out makeshift shelters, food and water. With one survey claiming that only 3% of citizens supporting putting the dogs down, the law has been met with understandable fury, both in Turkey and around the world. “It is political,” says Tapkan, angrily. “In America and Europe, there are no longer cats and dogs on the streets because they were collected and the animals that were not adopted were killed.” Turkey is trying to replicate the practice, to create the vision of a neat, modernised culture.
For Deniz, the law is yet another example of the callousness she tries to counter in her images, of systems that ignore the autonomy of animals and that place humans at the top of both cultural and literal food chains. These systems have two propositions, says Tapkan: “firstly, that animals are inferior to humans. And secondly, that men are superior to women. This animal-woman dichotomy is created by the patriarchal system and has taken hold in many societies.”
She turns for inspiration to theories of eco-feminism, the political and intellectual movement that combines feminism and environmentalism and argues that the oppression of women and the degradation of the environment are deeply interconnected. “The ecofeminist perspective contributes to our progress towards ecological balance not only by defending women's rights but also by defending nature, animals and plants. It can lead us to a world where we have overcome speciesism,” says Tapkan.
“Men are more disconnected from nature,” she continues. “They see themselves outside of nature. They take their guns and go hunting. And they think they are united with nature, thanks to this activity. Women, on the other hand, can see the connections in nature and care about all of them. Thanks to their empathy, they make ethical choices and live a life that is farther from harming other living beings. We need a female perspective that notices and values the connections in the ecosystem. Then, I believe that there will be peace and tranquility in such a world.”
See more of Deniz Tapkan’s work on her instagram page here.
Mother chimpanzee Jane stares into the camera as she breastfeeds her young infant, Gina. Faruk Yalcin Zoo, Darica, Turkiye, 2010. Deniz Tapkan Cengiz / We Animals
“I studied biology at university and graduated 15 years ago. Then I started working at the zoo. My general responsibility was to observe animal behavior and regulate their diets. One day, Jane, our chimpanzee, gave birth. She didn't show the baby to anyone for a long time. She was always in her arms. I never even saw her give [the baby] to her mate. One afternoon, while walking in the garden, I saw Jane breastfeeding. She saw me too. I stopped for a moment, I thought she would hide the baby from me and run inside. But she didn't. I calmly picked up my camera and took a photo. In the second frame, Jane is turned towards the baby, and the baby has closed her eyes. This photo is the most meaningful portrait I have ever taken. Jane knew me and she gave me permission. Jane died after I left the zoo. I don't know the exact reason. After all, she lived in prison. Zoos may be places of fun and learning for humans, but for other animals, they are prisons, regardless of how beautiful and spacious they are.”
On a farm with 10 cows, a calf born a week ago is kept separate from its mother. Since it is not allowed to suckle, it is given milk from a bottle. Usually, calves do not get enough to eat. Since their milk is sold to people, they go hungry. Çanakkale, Turkey, 2023. Deniz Tapkan.
“While meat consumption directly reminds many people of the animal, most do not see the harm caused by milk consumption. I have visited different dairy farms, farms with 10 cows, with 100 cows, goat and sheep farms. In all of them, the mother and the calf are separated, and all the animals live in their own manure. People deceive themselves by saying, ‘I get my milk from natural farms’ but even the smallest farms now imitate the industry to make their lives easier.
I took the photo of a calf drinking milk from a bottle in a smallholding. When I talked to the owner, he said he always separated the mother and the calf after birth. He gave the calf four liters of milk while I was there, saying this was all the calf’s food for the day. The animal finished the milk in a minute because he was very hungry. And he continued to be hungry all day.
When we left, the farmer gave myself and my father five litres of milk. My family didn’t want it, our neighbours didn’t want it. So I sat in the kitchen with five litres of milk on the table, angry and in tears, thinking, the milk is here for nothing and the calf is still hungry. We need to question every behavior we have that affects animals.”
A ram brought to be slaughtered on Eid al-Adha. They pour water on the ground and then sacrifice the ram by cutting its throat. Manisa, Turkey, 2021. Deniz Tapkan.
“Are sheep afraid? I went to a small settlement to photograph the slaughter of animals during Eid al-Adha. I have never seen slaughter before. Some families deliberately let their children watch these moments. This is how seeing an animal die, and even killing it, becomes normalized in a society.
While I was filming the slaughter, I felt like crying and turned my head to the right. The sheep were also watching the slaughter without taking their eyes off it. A question arose in my mind: Are they afraid? I am now in my second year of a master's in cognitive ethology, working on goats and sheep. [I believe] that if we learn more about the consciousness of farmed animals, maybe our choices will shift. Cognitive ethology studies are mostly conducted on chimpanzees, dogs, crows, etc; very rarely on farmed animals. Studies on animals we farm are usually done with the product as the priority. In other words, they evaluate how a goat gives more milk and objectify the animal. And, yes, to answer my question, sheep are afraid.”
A rooster peers through a basket at the side of the ring at a cockfighting venue. During the events, roosters waiting to compete stay in baskets inside the arena, and the birds witness the entirety of the fights and death before them from close proximity. Sekaan, Bali, Indonesia, 2024. Deniz Tapkan Cengiz / We Animals
“Photographing cockfights in Bali was the most difficult experience for me. I found a local fighting arena. It said it was illegal, but they issued tickets at the door. When I went in, I saw about 500 men shouting for bets. There were roosters in baskets in the middle. At first, I didn't know what to expect. Within minutes of the fight starting, blood started to flow and both roosters died. Then I noticed the big knives they had attached to their legs. The animals don't realize they are carrying weapons on their bodies. They are killing each other while exhibiting normal behaviors. I photographed three fights. And then I couldn't help but cry. The men saw me, pointed and laughed. I covered my face and turned towards the arena. There was a rooster in the basket in front of me and we locked eyes. We looked at each other amidst the men's shouts and the roosters’ screams. At that moment, I thought that the male species of homo sapiens didn't understand me. The species who understood me, who shared my feelings and fears, was the rooster. Just because we are the same species and can even talk doesn't mean we understand each other.”
