Grant Fleming is a man of journeys, a natural born investigator, somebody with a constant desire for new experience. He’s played bass in punk bands and photographed everything from political upheaval in Central America to Primal Scream. He also nearly fell into Yasser Arafat’s coffin. ¡Hasta La Victoria! at London’s Print Space is his first exhibition in a series of five – we caught up with the artist to talk adrenaline, South America and politics.

Thomas Gorton: You have spent a lot of your life photographing authority figures (Arafat, Mandela, Reagan), yet the trajectory that your life and career has taken is distinctly anti-establishment. What is it that draws you towards these people?

Grant Fleming: It’s less what draws me to them, it’s the events they’d be present at that I’m drawn to, be it elections, rallies, parades etc which would naturally also attract huge crowds, being mostly made up with ‘normal people’ – it’s them I’m interested in much more, and the collective energy and sheer range of emotion that only a crowd can create.

TG: You photographed the miners’ strikes in the mid-80s, before you learnt more about photography and left for Latin America. What do you remember of the strikes and did you notice any similarities between the political upheavals in England and South America?

GF: Well a lot of the struggle, demos in London during the 80’s were international based anyway – Anti-Apartheid being the big one of course but also you could say CND looked at the situation globally whilst stuff like the Miners and NHS demos, Wapping Print strike, did have a similarity to union-based and people-led protests I covered whilst in Central America.

TG: Did you notice a tangible development or improvement in your photography style when you left the country?

GF: On this trip yes as it was intended that way, I just wanted to learn, learn, learn. Plus with the rationing of shots I had to abide by due to the few rolls I had with me and the dearth of film in several of these countries going through conflict meant you had to be so selective and if I’m honest I surprised myself even going through the contact sheets for this exhibition. The ‘return rate’ was much higher than I’d expected, and the self-discipline very evident.

Digital these days just makes you lazy and burdened by millions of images that you or nobody else will ever look at.

TG: What do you think of our current government?

GF: Mostly? Public school CLOWNS. With not a clue of how life is lived by the majority of people in this country. Maybe it’s always been the same but to me the pitiful state of politics in our country and the resultant apathy of the population is the worst I’ve known in my lifetime. It’s sad and worrying by equal measure.

TG: Do you ever return to Central or South America? Is there a particular country there that feels like a home to you?

GF: Central America itself no, but South America many times, love Colombia, Brasil, the whole continent in fact. Cuba, Spain, Italy, Australia, India, Morocco I could go on and on as I’m always determined to get the most out of anywhere I go, and enjoy every last second I physically can. But pushed, the current number one would be… Mexico.

TG: You were Primal Scream’s official photographer. Is there a particular photo or story that embodies the time that you spent with the band? When I saw Primal Scream, not only were they blindingly good but I was just impressed that they could play given how wasted they all were. Did you ever pick up your bass and play with them?

GF: That’s an easy one – the shot of five of them just after a show in New York in 1992 – that’s become my iconic Scream picture although there’s hundreds if not thousands that run it a close second.

I did play with them, yes; got up for an encore with a second bass in Tokyo one heady tour long ago in the distance.

TG: Finally, what does it mean to you to have an exhibition of these photos? Would you regard your work in America as being the most important?

GF: No point in pretending otherwise and acting all cool, it’s my first exhibition, remember, in 28 years of taking pictures – I’m very, very chuffed. Firstly to see the pictures up there and looking so good, secondly that the response has been so overwhelmingly great and also that I think I’ve paid the people I met along the way (and was allowed into their lives, if only for a split second) respect. Finally seeing my parents, a docker and a shop-assistant from the East End of London being so proud of what I’ve done, well that’s also made me feel very proud too.

¡Hasta La Victoria! at The Printspace, 74 Kingsland Rd, London E2 8DL
Until 19th November, Monday–Friday 9:00–19:00