René Burri’s career defies easy categorization. A Magnum photographer and protégé of Henri Cartier-Bresson, he used his camera as both a defense against time and a passport to the world—documenting everything from pre–Cultural Revolution China to the gauchos of South America, from the architecture of Brazil’s new capital to portraits of figures like Winston Churchill, Pablo Picasso, and Che Guevara. His output is so vast that covering it in full would be impossible, but certain themes and projects reveal the depth of his vision.

Early Life and Mentorship

Born in 1933 in Switzerland, Burri showed early talent for painting and drawing, later expanding into collage and photography. In 1949 he entered Zurich’s School of Applied Arts, where his professor Hans Finsler became a decisive influence. Finsler’s critiques were blunt but instructive—once asking “Where was the farmer?” when Burri presented images of a farmhouse without its inhabitant. This instilled in him the importance of selectivity and subject presence.

Burri soon found himself drawn to movement—rejecting static compositions in favor of photographing life in motion. This approach was sharpened under Henri Cartier-Bresson, who restricted him to shooting with only 35mm and 90mm lenses. Burri shot economically, often just a few frames per subject, and learned to develop his own decisive moments within the discipline his mentor enforced.

Early Projects

His first widely recognized work, Touch of Music for the Deaf (1955), documented efforts in Zurich to help hearing-impaired children experience music through vibration. Another early highlight, The Two Faces of China, took him across China for six months, contrasting everyday life with the broader political climate on the eve of Mao’s Cultural Revolution.

In 1962, Burri published Die Deutschen, a postwar portrait of Germany capturing both youthful optimism and the weary skepticism of older generations. Though comparable in quality to Robert Frank’s The Americans, it never achieved the same recognition—partly, critics suggest, because its focus on Germany lacked the international draw of American subjects.

South America

Burri’s fascination with South America began with El Gaucho (1959), inspired by a novel about Argentina’s cowboys. His search for subjects took him from Buenos Aires to Lima, with chance encounters—including borrowing a car from a Robert Capa admirer—that helped him find his way into remote ranching communities. He returned in 1968 for a follow-up book.

In Brazil, he photographed Oscar Niemeyer’s modernist architecture and documented the rapid construction of Brasília, a capital city built between 1956 and 1960 in a burst of national optimism. The speed and ambition of the project gave Burri images charged with a sense of transformation.

Che Guevara

In 1963, on assignment for Look magazine, Burri photographed Che Guevara in Havana. For two hours, Guevara ignored him entirely, focused on intense conversation. This allowed Burri towork freely, capturing the now-iconic portrait of the revolutionary with a cigar. Distributed globally by Magnum, the image became a symbol—appearing on posters and flags during the Paris protests of May 1968 and later on Cuban ministry T-shirts.

Pablo Picasso

Accounts vary on how Burri gained access to Picasso. In one telling, he lingered outside the artist’s studio for days without success, eventually sneaking into a party in 1957 where Picasso invited him to eat. This sparked a friendship that let Burri photograph him over several years. In another version, Burri tracked him to a bullfight, talked his way past hotel staff, and found Picasso directing an orchestra from a brass bed. In both cases, patience and persistence led to portraits that went beyond the surface.

The Pyramid Obsession

Late in life, Burri’s fascination with pyramids—both literal and compositional—was explored in the exhibition The Imaginary Pyramids. His interest stemmed from the mountain landscapes of his Swiss childhood, expanded by visits to Egypt, Mexico, and Guatemala. His wife noted that these forms offered him “a shape of inner peace,” appearing in photographs, paintings, and collages.

One World

Published in 1984, One World collected 160 images from 1950 to 1983, weaving together political, historical, and deeply human threads. Burri traveled to regions in conflict, including Vietnam and Lebanon, yet sought to depict people apart from the turmoil around them. Cartier-Bresson called him a “non-violent anarchist,” and Burri described himself as a naive optimist, believing this attitude toward people was visible in his work.

As the co-director of London’s Serpentine Gallery summarized, Burri’s photographs form “a political, historical, social, and profoundly human document of the times he lived in, ” capturing the interconnectedness of the world with the precision of a chronicler and the empathy of an artist.