Q&A

Ami Vitale Gets the Shot

The celebrated Nat Geo photographer on nature and war, the charisma of pandas, and the fine line between heartbreak and inspiration

Photo: Fabrice Herpain
  • By Amy Farley /

  • Photographs by Ami Vitale /

  • September 17, 2024

Though Ami Vitale is famous for her iconic images of animals — from “The Last Goodbye,” a haunting look at Kenyan wildlife ranger JoJo Wachira comforting a dying northern white rhino, to “Yeye in the Mist,” a regal portrait of a giant panda in a wildlife enclosure in China — she doesn’t consider herself a wildlife photographer. Instead, she trains her lens on the intersection of humans and nature. “Environmental issues are not separate from human stories,” she says.

A former war photographer, Vitale spent more than a decade covering conflict zones — Kosovo, Gaza, Kashmir — before focusing on conservation work. For her project Panda Love, she returned to China’s Szechuan province over several years to follow efforts to save the giant panda. She’s explored the relationship between northern white rhinos — now extinct in the wild — and the humans working to save the species through advanced reproductive technologies. And she’s documented a Samburu community in northern Kenya that runs a sanctuary for orphaned elephants. More recently, she traveled to Indonesia to photograph forest-dwelling communities in West Papua. In all of her projects, she highlights not just the plight of endangered animals, but community-based conservation. She even cofounded the nonprofit Vital Impacts to support photography and storytelling around such work. Here, she talks to Further about the relationship between nature and war, the charisma of pandas, and the fine line between heartbreak and inspiration.

What did you learn from photographing war zones that inspired you to cover conservation?

I’d been telling stories about people and the human condition, but the backdrop of each of them was the natural world. In some cases, it was the scarcity of basic resources like water. In others, it was the changing climate and loss of fertile lands. But always it was the demands placed on our ecosystem that drove conflict and human suffering. Today, my work is about how the destinies of people and wildlife are intertwined.

Your nature photography is unique in that you often center humans in the shots. Why is that?

Everywhere I go, I see people, often with very little, making a huge impact in their communities. It’s important to shed some light on those stories of hope, where against all odds, individuals are making a difference.

One of the most important stories I’ve witnessed is about Reteti Elephant Sanctuary in Kenya. It’s the first Indigenous-owned and -operated elephant sanctuary in all of Africa and it’s a lifeline for orphaned elephants. By being the first to employ Indigenous women as keepers, they’ve not only transformed the relationship between people and elephants but also fostered a deeper sense of community cohesion. Beyond being a narrative of elephants, they illustrate how ingenuity and doing things differently is fueling positive change.

Panda Love gave viewers an unprecedented look at conservation in China. That must have been a formative project for you.

Giant pandas are iconic symbols of conservation. Yes, they’re adorable. But I needed to get beyond their charisma and illustrate the challenges they face in the wild as well as the efforts to protect them. [Panda Love] allowed me to document a side of China that often goes unnoticed — the collaboration between scientists, conservationists, and local communities.

Was it a technically difficult project?

The biggest challenge was getting access. With only a few thousand in the world, pandas are considered a national symbol by the Chinese, and each is closely guarded and watched. They are multimillion-dollar bears that everyone treats with kid gloves, and they are highly vulnerable. Getting close, without interfering with their biology and conservation, and in a way that is acceptable to their very protective minders, was challenging. It wasn’t just about gaining local trust, but also being able to work with a wild animal — a very rare, finicky, endangered animal with teeth and claws.

You sometimes spend years on a subject. How do you find the more intimate stories within the larger one you’re covering?

I spend extended periods of time on each story — sometimes months, sometimes years; others take decades. I let the narrative unfold organically. It’s about being present, receptive, and attuned to the nuances of the surroundings. It involves building relationships, earning trust, and allowing the story to reveal itself through the everyday lives and experiences of the people and places I encounter. There’s a certain beauty in not having all the answers at the beginning. It allows me to be fully present in the moment.

In 2009, when I first began covering the story of the northern white rhinos, there were only eight of them known to be alive, all living in zoos. Initially, I approached it as a narrative of impending extinction. However, over the past 15 years, the trajectory of the story has taken a turn. It has transformed from a story of bleakness to one filled with promise. Remarkably, a group of scientists is on the brink of bringing the species back from extinction through innovative IVF techniques. It’s a story of reimagining what was once thought impossible.

You’ve covered some heart-wrenching conservation issues, including the plight of northern white rhinos. How do you find a balance between breaking viewers’ hearts and inspiring them?

You need to create emotional connections. But rather than break hearts, I try to evoke empathy and drive viewers to take informed and positive action.

Was there a trip you took when you were young that shook up your worldview in some lasting way?

As a 25-year-old freelance journalist, I went to cover the war in Angola in early 2000. The devastation, the stories of resilience, and the palpable consequences of political decisions challenged my preconceived notions. The journey forced me to confront the harsh realities of human suffering and the profound consequences of global dynamics. It was a powerful lesson in the interconnectedness of our world and the ripple effects of geopolitical decisions on communities far removed from the centers of power.

What was your most memorable encounter with a person from your travels?

I was at a conference with Céline Cousteau, and during the break we were offered water. Céline, true to her commitment to environmental stewardship, declined. She was conscious of the potential plastic bottle that might accompany the water. This simple act left a lasting impression on me. It was a reminder of how our daily choices contribute to a much larger environmental narrative.

Many of us have Ami Vitale screensavers on our laptops. What screensaver does Ami Vitale have?

A global map that moves to where I am in the world.

What souvenir do you regret not buying on a trip?

More art!

If you had an entire year to travel, would you spend it in a single cherished place — or would you set off to discover a new place every week?

Without a doubt, I’d always choose creating meaningful relationships and a deeper understanding of a place over travel for the sake of traveling.

A day's work in a Kenyan mangrove. Photo: Bryan Liscinsky
Checking angles in a glacier in Switzerland. Photo: Bryan Liscinsky
Self-portrait with Fupi, an orphaned giraffe at Sarara Camp in Kenya.

Amy Farley is the Executive Editor at Fast Company, where she edits and writes features about the intersection of business and culture.

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