Matthieu Paley and the Ten Commandments of Storytelling
Some people travel to extraordinary places in the hope of returning with extraordinary photographs. Matthieu Paley travels to extraordinary places, takes extraordinary photographs—and doesn’t always return: he stays, he comes back, he learns the language, he earns people’s trust, he becomes the kind of person who is invited back for the next wedding, the next migration, the next harsh winter.
For more than two decades, he has been traveling through Central Asia and some of the most isolated communities on the planet. His work for National Geographic is characterized by his refusal to compromise the stories he tells and by his total commitment to the people he photographs.
We spoke at length with Matthieu about his journey and his approach to storytelling. From that conversation, we distilled something akin to a manifesto. Let’s call it The Ten Commandments of Storytelling: ten essential ingredients that, for Matthieu Paley, transform a recording into an unforgettable story.
1. Storytelling requires taking your time
You can’t tell a great story in a hurry. Slowness isn’t an obstacle—it’s an essential ingredient. It may be dictated by the terrain, by the distance, by the fact that everything has to be done on foot. Or it may be a deliberate choice: slowing down so that the story unfolds at its own pace. Haste is the enemy of depth. Sometimes, slowness means a decade of comings and goings…
2. Get in the pool—don’t just stand behind the glass.
A photographer who doesn’t understand the language, who doesn’t connect, who observes from the outside, is like taking pictures through a fishbowl. You don’t want that. Jump into the pool with everyone else and have fun. The experience itself is just as important as the image you capture. If the experience is profound and moving for you, and if you can convey that through your images, you’ll move others as well.
3. Curiosity is your guiding light.
In photography, light is everything; in storytelling, curiosity is everything. Be relentlessly curious. Always ask questions. Dig deeper. When an answer surprises you, that’s when you should pay attention: it could be the beginning of a story. Curiosity isn’t just a tool—it’s your guide, your compass.
4. An image should not provide answers; it should raise questions.
The storyteller’s job is not to close doors, but to open them. An image that offers an immediate conclusion is an image that exhausts itself. An image that raises questions, that invites us to want to know more, to read the caption—that is an image that endures, creates mystery, plays with the unreal, and leaves room for interpretation.
5. Complexity is your ally.
Places, cultures, people—everything has multiple layers. Taking the easy way out will make everything simple, dramatic, and easy to consume, but your job is to resist that temptation, highlight the complexity, reveal the layers, and break down stereotypes. A great story is one that surprises you, that forces you to rethink what you thought you knew.
6. Build rapport before picking up the camera.
Much of the work happens even before you take the camera out of your bag. The way you move, how you use your eyes, how you keep the camera tucked away during the first few days, how you make small talk, how you try to speak the language—all of this builds or destroys trust. People can tell when your motivation is genuine; you can’t fool them. And if you try, they’ll see right through it.
7. You deserve the images you create.
Don’t steal; don’t just show up, take your shots, and leave as if nothing happened. Do your homework, fall in love with the place, learn the language, and come back. When you finally enter people’s space, do so with the confidence of someone who deserves to be there. It’s knowing that you’ve invested enough so that those images aren’t a theft, but an exchange.
8. Be a clown—it’s sure to bring joy.
You may never see those people again, you may never give them a printed photo, but there’s one thing you can always leave behind: a moment of joy. Be silly, but with respect! Tell jokes, laugh. If you leave and the memory that remains is “that guy was fun, we laughed so much”—that’s already a legacy. It’s guaranteed; it doesn’t depend on publications, magazines, or anything else. It depends only on you.
9. Edit the image carefully; don’t get carried away by the excitement of the moment you took it.
Editing a photo is neither an act of violence nor an act of love—it is an act of dedication, and it’s essential to have another pair of eyes to help, because they don’t feel the emotion you felt when you pressed the shutter button; they don’t know how much that image cost you; and, because of that, they can see what really works. Learn to let go—your photos aren’t your children; they’re part of a bigger story.
10. Find a story that keeps you awake at night.
Don’t choose photography to become famous, to travel, or to work for a magazine. Choose it because there are stories that need to be told—and that will haunt you until you give them a voice. That might take ten, 15, or 20 years. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you believe that, even if you don’t find what you set out to find, something just as powerful is waiting for you. There’s always someone you’ll connect with; everyone has something magical about them—that’s guaranteed.
