Jean-François Leroy: The Champion of Photojournalism

David Corfield remembers Jean-François Leroy, whose death was announced today

There are some people who come into your life through work and, over time, become something much more than colleagues or professional acquaintances. Jean-François Leroy was one.

I had known Jean-François for around 15 years, primarily through my work with The Red Dot Agency and Canon at Visa pour l’Image, the international festival of photojournalism he co-founded and directed. Over those years, I came to know him not just as the formidable force behind one of the world’s most important photographic festivals, but as a man I was proud to call a friend.

It is difficult to think of Visa without thinking of Jean-François. From the moment the festival began to take over beautiful Perpignan in Southern France, there he was, moving through the crowds, talking to photographers, journalists, students, editors and friends from every corner of the world. And almost invariably, there was that wicked smile and that wonderful, infectious cackle that you could probably hear from the other side of the city.

I can still picture him standing outside the Palais des Congrès, cigarette burning away, deep in conversation, passionately discussing whatever photographic issue happened to be occupying his mind at that particular moment. Always with two mobile phones in his top shirt pocket.

Behind that exterior was someone who cared enormously about photography and, more importantly, about photographers. I honestly believe Jean-François was probably the greatest champion of photojournalism I have ever known. He understood the power of the visual story in a way that few people ever have.

For him, photography wasn’t simply about cameras, lenses, technique or aesthetics. It was about witnessing. It was about telling stories that mattered. It was about giving photographers the freedom and the platform to show the world what they had seen.

And he didn’t care where you were on your photographic journey, which was one of the things I admired most about him. He could sit down with a young schoolchild who had just discovered photography and talk to them with exactly the same enthusiasm and respect that he would give to an internationally renowned photojournalist who had spent decades working in war zones.

At Visa, everyone had a place, everyone had a voice and everyone had the opportunity to see, learn, question and be inspired. Jean-François, along with his team, created that environment: opening doors, creating opportunities and challenging people to stop and look.

Visa pour l’Image became far more than a photography festival. It became a meeting place for the world’s photographic community. Every year, people who might otherwise never have crossed paths came together in Perpignan. Photographers from conflict zones would meet students just starting out, editors would meet emerging talent and old friends would embrace in the streets. Arguments would begin over photographs and continue over dinner. Conversations would carry on late into the night. And there, in the middle of all of it, would be Jean-François – laughing, smoking, talking and making things happen.

His influence reached far beyond Perpignan. He had friends all over the world, and wherever photographers gathered, his name was known. People respected him, admired him, argued with him and, most importantly, loved him. I was fortunate enough to be one of those people.

The world of photojournalism has lost one of its greatest champions. But every time a photographer raises a camera, tells a story and makes us look at the world differently, a little of Jean-François Leroy’s spirit will live on.

And I think he would have liked that.