A White Swan Event: An Interview With Animal Photojournalist Nathalie Merle
by Thomas Machowicz
Photography by Nathalie Merle
“The very notion of a sanctuary is a safe place. If we are to consider this notion - the idea of safety - it should naturally extend to all living creatures, animals and humans alike. Sanctuaries indeed protect animals from negative human impact, but they can equally serve as a safe haven to protect us from ourselves.” - Nathalie Merle
TM: I was drawn to Nathalie Merle’s photography because she has an uncanny way of making an awkward situation look elegant and eye-catching. In this interview we explore her unique way of seeing the world and how animal rescue, veterinary medicine and mental health all tie together in the tapestry of her photography.
TM: Hi Nathalie, thanks so much for sharing your work and your story with us. Tell us a bit about yourself and your photography.
NM: It took me years to fully understand the power of photography and further craft my art. I could honestly say it wasn’t until recently when I realized that no one could ever take my voice, nor what I see, nor how I experience life. And this has become a driving force to continue my work.
In healthcare, I have seen quite a lot of censorship, which I found troublesome both professionally and personally. Because of my innate tendency towards transparency and truth-seeking, censorship felt conflicting and counter-intuitive especially in a sector as altruistic as healthcare.
NM: I have a background in healthcare. I am a pharmacist by training. I've already worked close to 20 years in the healthcare sector. It just so happens I did want to be a veterinarian and I say that because it kind of ties into the work that I do.
I always saw the camera as a tool to witness and document with my own eyes, even at a young age.
Developing and having a voice, being heard and listened to (“taken seriously”) were challenges I faced early on. And so the camera presented itself as the perfect tool to document life the way I saw and experienced it. It served as my ally to help others see what I was seeing.
At some point, as a result of a burnout, I picked up the camera just to get away from what felt like a toxic and alienating environment. Going back to square one - moving towards things I love - was how I found my way back to myself. Taking photos of things I felt curious about and was drawn to was my way to heal, recover and eventually re-purpose my life.
Going back to square one intuitively involved horses - one may call horses my spirit animal. As a single woman, wishing to travel abroad safely and unharassed, I started going on organized horse treks. Between the horses and the beautiful landscapes, photography returned to me like second nature. One might say, photography came galloping my way.
My horse trek photography coupled with years of healthcare experience allowed me to transition with relative ease into the veterinary universe. And so this alchemy, between re-purposing myself and daring to try, took residence within.
My approach was to build rapport, trust and to continue along this truth-seeking quest. Witnessing and documenting the practice of veterinary medicine spoke to me.
It just made sense. When things feel obvious this may be a good indication that you are where you need to be.
TM: It sounds like documenting veterinary medicine was the first foray into some of the work that we see here on your website. Tell us more about your approach to photography.
NM: The Centre Hospitalier Vétérinaire Frégis is the first clinic I reached out to and the first that opened their doors to me. The Frégis hospital is the oldest and one of the largest in all of France. In this kind of work setting, you really need to get out of the way - be invisible if you will.
When I'm working in this kind of environment, I really have to just “not be there”, not be seen, because everyone has important stuff to do. It’s a privilege and a rather comfortable position to be in - to photograph and to take each moment in as an opportunity.
Each scene offers some potential. I know I will always come home with something.
A lot of the work that I do is really in post-production. I'll come home with quite a lot of images, but then there's that second work that takes place behind the screen.
It’s part of the photographic investigative work to look for that one particular moment that speaks of something. I’m looking for evidence of beauty. It's when I'm behind the screen that I start the whole selection process. It takes hours actually. I'm looking for that little gem.
Once I find the image, I start cropping and narrowing in. The original image may look starkly different from the final edit. There's a lot of scanning and studying of my images to unveil the aesthetics of a captured instant. This process drives my work.
In my photography, I aim to capture both emotion and aesthetics. I seek for that emotional charge, the kind that is revealing of the profession. I rely on the interaction between an animal and some form of human presence, allowing the beauty of care to transpire.
Veterinarians have no time to stop and reflect. I try, through my photography, to do that work for them in a single frame. I triage countless steps and gestures and narrow it down to just one. The one. The one that may remind them why they do what they do.
When I show my work to veterinarians, they are usually really surprised. They are surprised by the emotional charge captured - something I imagine they can’t afford to succumb to in their day-to-day operation.
As an illustration of this selection process would be the image of the ferret. I had several images of this scene, but I intentionally narrowed the image to one where the vet’s fingers and hold were ever so gentle.
Naturally, the vet was gentle with this animal but between adjustments and all - sometimes a still-shot of a hold might come across as more tense than in reality. On the other hand, there have been a few occasions where I intentionally selected such roughness as a mean to show the difficulty in handling certain animals, regardless of intent and technique. It really depends on what I wish to transpire authentically, without any hampering.
Ferrets are a little squiggly, so gestures are slightly more awkward. Squirrels are a real challenge to photograph from my experience.
I’m very particular about showing beauty. I'm always looking for a beautifully-placed hand, reflective of intent, care and trust.
TM: Is there another photo from this series that we're looking at that really stands out to you?
NM: Let's see. I really like the one with the Golden Retriever. This story was incredible. I think it's a beautiful picture.
The dog's mouth is muzzled with a very soft green threading, a piece of ribbon. This dog actually got mauled by two Pit Bulls.
There was a family with their baby in a park, and two Pit Bulls went charging for the baby. This Golden Retriever, who's a senior citizen as you could tell from his gray whiskers and muzzle, intervened to protect the family.
He had all these dog bites, all these dog wounds, and here they're shaving away the hair so that they go in and clean up the wounds.
When they were done, he was just wagging his tail. This was a happy dog. It was a memorable scene.
I find the hand gestures really caring and gentle. They're being very mindful to not stress this animal out even though he was in a cheerful mood.
TM: Tell us what you've learned about mental health for veterinarians. What are veterinarians experiencing in terms of mental health right now?
NM: It’s a high-stress profession. The reasons are well-documented in the literature with a risk for burn-out, substance abuse, depression, death by suicide and dropping out of veterinary school before graduation or abandoning the profession shortly thereafter.
Female veterinarians are at a greater risk than their male peers. There are published statistics that point to a difference between vets, techs, females and males. There's a whole slew of reasons as to why veterinarians are at a greater risk of mental health issues.
Anyone that's going into veterinary medicine is doing it for the love of animals. I mean, they have a strong personal conviction. You don't just go into veterinary medicine, you probably dreamt about it from a young age. It's fulfilling one of those childhood dreams.
The level of empathy is high, and the training is difficult in terms of access all the way to graduation. Veterinary medicine requires a strong educational background and commitment. It’s highly competitive.
Vets, in their day-to-day operation, don't have time to assimilate. They go from euthanizing a companion animal to wellness plan vaccinations.
Staff, in general, have no time to grieve. They could have known their patients and clients for a number of years. There’s a rapport established over time. It's just a roller coaster. An emotional roller coaster.
I think the average person would think, “Why would a vet commit suicide? They're working with animals all day.”
And so my work aims to capture the unseen, the emotional charge associated with the practice without anyone’s awareness of my intention.
TM: Like this image right here, right?
NM: It is without question there’s an emotional charge in this moment, but the technician is not necessarily aware of it. He's got a job to do. He's providing IV fluids to this rescued swan. There's a lot going on here. So that's the work that I'm trying to do - capture the intensity of the job so people may begin to relate.
TM: What is the Black Swan Theory?
NM: A Black Swan is an unpredictable event with severe consequences. No one can predict a Black Swan.
Contrary to a black swan event, a white swan event is considered more likely to occur, it's predictable - thus manageable. We can put processes into place to correct an issue in order to prevent a white swan event from occurring. It can be forecasted, whereas a black swan event is entirely random and chaotic. A black swan is something that no one sees coming, you simply cannot calculate the probability of its occurrence.
TM: Could you tell us more about the white swan concept and what it means within your project?
NM: For example, we could predict that there will probably be higher mental health issues for younger generations as a result of the COVID lockdown.
We could proactively put measures in place to address what will most certainly widen the mental health crisis in the future instead of letting things unfold and fall apart.
This would be a typical white swan event. We can anticipate this kind of crisis.
It means we already know there's a risk of occurrence with data to support risk analysis and risk management undertakings. Societies and government programs can choose to make use of known data and actively invest in targeted public health policies.
Much like Covid-related mental health issues - today we can reasonably predict an increase in the mental health crisis as it relates to the veterinary profession.
Are we going to start actively addressing this issue, buckling down, and doing something about it?
Every year new students come in, they graduate unprepared for the realities of the job and some fall off the cliff.
TM: I want to shift gears a little bit here into another story and wildlife conservation since it's kind of adjacent to what we're talking about. How did you go from photographing veterinarians and companion animals into these images where we're seeing tigers and other wild animals?
NM: Veterinarians have numerous specialties. Ideally, I’d like to show the entire spectrum of where veterinarians are working so that we can get an idea of their importance and their value, tying it all together. To date, I have received reasonable buy-in into this personal project which is aimed at valorising the profession and raising awareness on its critical work and impact.
TM: I just love this image. This is a beautiful portrait. Could you tell us about who this tiger is and their story?
NM: Her name is Pearl. And in this image, she's 16 years old.
She's been living the sanctuary life for a long time. Pearl was destined to be a circus performer, but was deemed untameable by her trainer.
And so she was placed in a sanctuary where Kaïro, a young male tiger, joined her some years later. Kaïro was seized in an apartment in Paris at four months of age. The two tigers were socialized and placed together to better adapt to sanctuary life and live out a normal tiger life while living in an enclosed space.
TM: Okay, interesting. So this really ties into the pet trade, right? What do you think the experience is for these animals being treated and for the animals that are in sanctuaries like Pearl?
NM: I can share some insights from a conversation I had with a vet who works for an urban wildlife clinic. In principle, all wildlife admitted to such clinics are destined to return to their natural habitat should they survive and if they can be rehabilitated.
This is the basis for this kind of care, which in parallel strives to minimize human interaction as much as conceivably possible. The vet pointed to the little funding received for such kind of care, which essentially serves to help wildlife survive and thrive in their natural habitat.
Meanwhile, the amount of resources directed towards keeping a tiger in a sanctuary is considerably high for an animal that will never know freedom.
Those working in urban wildlife clinics are either volunteers or hired staff working for pennies.
They are dedicated individuals helping to preserve wildlife and nature. There’s not a lot of recognition for this kind of work, which pretty much goes unseen.
For this particular vet, investing in communication and pedagogic programs in schools would be a first step towards preserving natural habitats and wildlife.
He felt that the growing disconnect between too much learning tied to technology, when going out in nature - in a forest for example - is key if we are to understand and appreciate the natural world.
I am hoping that my photography on such topics may help to break such disconnects and bring us just a little closer to those working tirelessly behind closed doors, and who go largely unnoticed.
NM: These horses are located at the same sanctuary as Kaïro and Pearl. The horses weren't necessarily rescued from what I gathered. They may have been given to the sanctuary by people who couldn't handle them anymore. In any case, these horses are afflicted by leptospirosis, which is a bacteria that is found in rat urine or rodent excrements, and it can be found in the horses’ water and their feeds.
I don't know if these horses were living in poor sanitary conditions or if their ailment is the result of bad luck. But in any case, these horses have been affected by the disease, which creates progressive blindness and hearing loss. The disease when it affects the eyes is also known as moon blindness, because of the moon-like appearance of the opaque cornea.
These horses were so sensitive and intuitive. They could feel your presence, even if they couldn't see or hear so well. They felt your presence through the ground. There was something incredible about the way these horses moved. It was sort of like being with a school of fish in water.
There was something about the way the horses navigated the world with the loss of senses that just really created a whole new universe, and I was just taken by their level of sensitivity.
TM: Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful work and bringing light especially to the issue of the mental health crisis in veterinary medicine. Along this line, I’d just like to ask one last question. What does the concept of sanctuary mean to you?
NM: I'd say peace. If there were one word that would come to mind, it would be peace. I don't know if it’s so much of a concept, but I see it as a place of tranquility, and these animals are able to retire and be cared for the rest of their lives, essentially to the end of their days, with no worry, not having to fend for themselves.
The idea of sanctuary is that notion of long-term care. It's like a gift.
It's an offering to another being that is more than worthy because, in contrast, maybe they were in a situation where they didn't get care.
A sanctuary is an enclosure with obvious boundaries. In contrast to open nature and freedom to roam, in a sanctuary an animal is guaranteed safety.
If an animal has care and safety, I imagine it could relax a little bit. It does not have to fend for itself, fight to find food, and that alone is unique compared to an animal that lives out in the wild and does have to fend for itself.
With regard to your question, what is sanctuary, who is their threat? Why are we putting them in a sanctuary?
They're in a sanctuary because we as humans are the threat. Peace and safety is what they're getting in a sanctuary.
The notion of a sanctuary is a safe place. We're protecting them from us, from human risk, but the sanctuary can also serve as a way to protect us from ourselves.
Nathalie Merle is a US-trained pharmacist and self-taught photographer whose work advocates for "One Health” through a joint perspective on mental health and animal sentience. You can follow Nathalie on Instagram and visit her website at nathaliemerle.com.
