It was 30 years ago, coinciding with commencement of the reforms which opened China to the world like never before in history, that the profession and product of documentary photography first surged throughout the nation.

“We should not allow the visual historic record to be a blank slate,” was a collective motto then common among a group of documentary photographers. And so they turned their cameras upon the public. Hence, thanks to these photographic professionals, the earliest still images depicting the lifestyles of average modern Chinese citizens were recorded.

Foremost among the dedicated photojournalist-artists who covered China’s ongoing reforms and opening-up over the past 30 years are An Ge, He Yanguang and Wang Wenlan.

Through their powerful, intriguing and often poignant images, this dramatic phase in the history of China is, and will be, recorded, considered, and reconsidered — never to be forgotten.

He Yanguang

December 6, 1980: Senior soldiers, cadres and intellectuals sing at a Beijing theatre in celebration of the ending of the Cultural Revolution.

April 11, 1980: Chinese Catholics at the first Easter mass to take place after the Cultural Revolution was ended.

June 1986: Soldiers of a PLA troop dispatched to the border battle of self-defense against Vietnam return to Shandong. The roses were presented by welcoming local civilians.

February 10, 1989: A senior citizen considers an oil painting of nude figures at what was then a controversial modern art exhibition at National Art Museum of China in Beijing.

November 28, 1986: Four shops at deficit are auctioned to the public. Prior to that date, all production materials were owned by the state.

September 28, 1986: The bustling Chung Ying Street in Shenzhen.

In the last 30 years, found at nearly all the important and large events were He’s silhouettes, who captured those historic moments with his lens.

Today, He Yanguang serves as senior journalist and photo director with China Youth Daily, and as vice president of the Photojournalist Society of China. In 1986, he was cited as one of China’s Top Ten Photojournalists, and he has won many national awards for his work in photojournalism.

Photography became my favorite hobby when I was young. In 1971, I obtained my first camera, a Japanese-made “120.” It had some history, in that it was captured during the 1940s from defeated Japanese aggressors. Although it was old and damaged, back then I thought this to be a great luxury of ownership.

When I first took on photography as a vocation, I began to learn basic skills and, more importantly, the concept of journalism.

My first award-winning image, “Self-Employed Individual on Street,” was taken in May 1981, when the private economy was just then permitted, thanks to the policy of reform and opening-up. In that picture, a young man who ran a tea stand served a customer in a very warm manner. For the caption I wrote, “Big Bowl Tea, symbolizing the first step of Beijing’s private business into the market.”

I consider myself to be very fortunate; to have witnessed the commencement and development of China’s reform and opening-up, while my photographic horizons broadened accordingly. Among the numerous works of foreign photographers I saw, one that particularly left me with a deep impression depicted a huge banner at Tian’anmen Square carrying the slogan “Long Live Chairman Mao.” It was right after his death, and highlighted in front of the banner was a flag flown at half-mast. It was a simple, objective composition, but its impact upon the viewers was tremendous. We called for a “long life” for tens of years, but once our respected leader was gone, we felt so sorrowful and weak, and that half-mast flag seemed to imply the fall of the sky.

Later, I realized that while the camera is just a tool with no thought, journalism is a profession for expressing thought. A thorough observation and consideration should be much more important than simply pressing the shutter button.

Over the past three decades, whenever a major event occurred, I would try all means to rush to the site. These events included dangerous and tough moments, such as the 1984 border battle of self-defense against Vietnam, the 1991 East China flood, the 1997 Guangxi border demining, the 1998 fight against the Yangtze flood, the 2003 SARS epidemic, and the 2008 Sichuan earthquake.

When I took my camera deep to the hospital wards during the SARS period in the spring of 2003, my youngest son was only six months old. I remained at Beijing’s Ditan Hospital for 18 full days, taking more than 2,000 photos.

It’s really impossible to remain fearless and detached when shooting wars, disasters, and epidemics. Personally, I experienced great trepidation and grief while covering the 1997 demining on the Guangxi border and the 2003 fight against SARS at Beijing’s Ditan Hospital. It was nothing but my absolute respect for site, scene and truth that helped me overcome the fear. Text journalists may reconstruct scenes through follow-up reporting, but if a photojournalist is not on site, he or she can’t fulfill their job, and nothing is accomplished.

On the site of the 1998 Yangtze River flood, I took many photos and used my cell phone to text message China Youth Daily, describing the disaster as it unfolded. My coverage of the Yangtze breaking the levee in Jiujiang became an exclusive report credited to my newspaper. For that work I was awarded the Special Prize of China Journalism Award.