Indonesian photojournalist Garry Lotulung has built a body of work that captures the fragile intersection of the human condition, social change, and environmental crises. From documenting Indonesia’s COVID-19 crisis to exposing threats to the rainforests of Halmahera, he brings attention to often overlooked stories. Born in Manado, North Sulawesi, and now based in Jakarta, his images have been published by major international outlets. Since 2022, he has been a regular contributor and stringer to the international news agency Anadolu.
After graduating from college, Lotulung pursued photography at the Antara Photojournalism Gallery. “It was a great experience for a newbie like me,” he recalls. From 2015 to 2016, he interned at Reuters and received intensive training in tough reporting environments. The experience, he says, taught him to “work both effectively and safely under pressure”. In 2016, he joined KOMPAS.com as a staff photographer and, in 2022, made the leap to freelance photojournalism.
Now working independently, Lotulung focuses on long-term projects about society, people, and environmental threats. “My photographs are chapters of a story waiting to be told,” he says. “They’re not random snapshots; they’re intentional creations to tell a story.” He aims to evoke emotion and spark conversation: “I want my photographs to challenge assumptions, start conversations, and bear witness to the world’s beauty, struggle, and resilience.”
Among the most pressing issues he has covered is Indonesia’s waste crisis. His long-term work has ranged from household garbage clogging Jakarta’s rivers to the mishandling of medical waste during the COVID-19 pandemic. More recently, he has turned his focus to imported plastic waste in East Java, a persistent problem that has yet to be fully addressed by the government. His images show people working and living among sprawling landfills, scenes he describes as “apocalyptic and frightening”. Yet, amid the chaos he also saw the resilience of people who, despite the risks, collected plastic, textiles, and paper for recycling. “These people are real heroes,” he stresses. His project highlights the broader health and enviornmental impact of the crisis. In some neighbourhoods, air pollution from tofu and limestone production- where waste is used as fuel- mixes with wastewater from local recycling operations, creating a hazardous enviornment.
Lotulung’s Indonesian roots are assets in gaining trust. Understanding local culture, he draws on values like gotong royong (mutual cooperation) and tata krama (social etiquette), taking time to connect with people, often beginning with a simple chat over coffee before taking a single photograph. “It shows that I see them as individuals, not just as subjects for my camera,” he explains. This cultural sensitivity is especially important when working in vulnerable or marginalized communities.
The COVID-19 pandemic defined a chapter of his career. For two years, Lotulung documented hospitals, morgues, cemeteries, and task force evacuations. “It felt like a war,” he recalls. “Almost every day, I saw families crying, people in critical condition, and individuals dying after running out of oxygen.” He persisted despite the risks, determined to show the reality and counter disinformation. The work earned him a Pictures of the Year Asia (POY) award and international recognition.
Lotulung acknowledges that awards bring prestige and help in pitching new projects, as editors favor recognized photographers. His coverage of nickel mining in Indonesia also won at the Istanbul Photo Awards. Yet, accolades are not his goal. “Photographs can only serve as reminders of what has happened,” he says. “If I do my job well, the image should evoke empathy and concern. After that, it is up to those in power to carry out their policies.”
His ongoing project on nickel mining in Halmahera exemplifies that approach. Since 2023, Lotulung has been documenting the impact of nickel mining in Central Sulawesi and the Maluku Islands, the epicenter of Indonesia’s nickel production. His work focuses on the O’Hongana Manyawa, an indigenous community known as the “Forest People”, with deep ties to the land. The work uncovers the human cost of the global demand for clean energy, showing how the push for nickel – essential for electric vehicle batteries- is threatening both ecosystems and traditional ways of life. The O’Hongana Manyawa, among Indonesia’s last nomadic hunter-gatherers, have seen their ancestral forests rapidly diminished. Lotulung’s photography contrasts untouched forests with images of Weda Bay Industrial Estate, the world’s largest nickel mine, showing polluted rivers, red-barren land, smelter smoke, trucks and health crises like rising respiratory infections.
Documenting this story required patience, trust-building with the O’Hongana Manyawa, and coordination with local activists “Earning their trust was a vital and a lengthy part of the process. I had to depend on local fixers and activists who had already established relationships with them. This was not a “parachute journalism” assignment. It required patience, respect, and a commitment to understanding their culture and customs,” he told me.
Accessing the highly guarded Weda Bay Industrial Estate posed further challenges, and Lotulung’s use of drones proved crucial in capturing the vast scale of deforestation and industrial expansion. The elevated viewpoint provided a broader context that would otherwise remain invisible from the ground. While drone photography is still relatively underused in contemporary photojournalism, Lotulung integrates it seamlessly into his storytelling, not as a gimmick but as a meaningful narrative device. His aerial images do not distract from the story; rather, they amplify its urgency, revealing the magnitude of environmental destruction and the vulnerability of the communities caught within it. By combining traditional reportage with drone imagery, he allows the story itself to prevail, moving beyond the photographer’s gaze to a more immersive and multi-layered perspective.
Looking ahead, Lotulung is working on Indonesia’s Drowning Land, a long-term project about the devastating effects of sea level rise on Java’s coastline. For him, the mission is clear. “Not many people are fortunate enough to say they’ve found their calling, but I have,” he reflects. “One way or another, I will continue making international stories about global issues.”
In the tradition of photojournalists he admires, like James Nachtwey, whose words he often quotes, Lotulung sees his work as testimony. To witness, to record, to remember. And above all, to ensure that the stories he tells cannot be ignored.
Silvia Donà