To this day, I can still vividly recall the first time I met Tashi Wanggya. It was2013during the May Day holiday when we went to Lhasa for our second research trip. Because we hadn’t experienced any of the legendary altitude sickness during the first research trip, Lao Lei and I had become complacent about going to Lhasa. Before this trip, one of us had pulled several all-nighters in a row, and the other had a cold and was sneezing nonstop. The result was that we were “completely out of it” throughout the entire research period, only snapping back to a strangely clear state of mind during the final moments when we completed the ultimate task of the trip on the last day.No Zuo No Die, we were in a semi-conscious state throughout the entire research period, only snapping back to a strangely clear state of mind during the final moments when we completed the ultimate task of the trip on the last day.
For the photography team of "Heavenly Ladder to Everest," we always believed that first and foremost, they had to be Tibetan, secondly, they needed to have a cinematic quality, and also possess rich experience in documentary-style shooting. After applying these few criteria, the pool of possible candidates was actually quite limited. In the end, director Sun Shuyun, who had previously shot "A Year in Tibet," recommended her former collaborator: Tashi Wanggya. During our days in Tibet, we tried every means possible to get in touch with this photographer we had heard so much about but never met. Eventually, we arranged to meet on the last day before our departure at a café near the Potala Palace.
Before even reaching the café, I spotted from afar, next to the parking lot at the café entrance, a burly man sitting on a bright green plastic stool. As I got closer, I could see that the man was wearing a baseball cap and a camouflage tank top. He saw us too, stood up, and limped over to greet us. So this was the cinematographer we were looking for—Tashi Wanggya. At the time, he had just given up using a cane due to osteonecrosis of the femoral head, couldn’t stand for long, and had borrowed a plastic stool from the parking attendant to sit at the entrance.
Tashi Wanggya is a veteran cameraman trained in film at the China News Film Studio. Along with Dorje, he is one of only two Tibetan cameramen in the Tibet region capable of meeting cinematic standards. Nowadays, Dorje mainly works in Beijing, while Wanggya, needing to recuperate from his leg injury, stays in Lhasa, making him the only resident staff member from the China News Film Studio in Tibet. On the second floor of the café, we got straight to the point and hit it off immediately. He had his own unique insights into "Heavenly Ladder to Everest," consistently emphasizing that this documentary wasn’t just about climbing mountains for the sake of climbing, but should also involve deeper reflections on Tibet’s present and future. At the same time, he offered many valuable suggestions for cinematography—such as how to use time-lapse photography on Mount Everest to enhance overall image quality, how to choose subjects to capture moving stories—demonstrating the rich experience and professionalism of a seasoned cameraman.
As the shooting progressed, Tashi Wanggya and the photography team he led became the most crucial piece of the puzzle for the film "Heavenly Ladder to Everest." They not only demonstrated a high level of professional filmmaking through active interaction with subjects and proactive capturing of scenes, but also made core contributions to the film’s thematic ideas. Being situated within the social context of Tibet’s historical transformation from tradition to modernity, the Tibetan creators have long pondered the present and future of their own ethnic group. This provided a solid foundation for the film to reach the inner hearts of the subjects, opening up possibilities for deep cultural portrayal.
It was already three hours later when we left the café. The first long conversation with Tashi Wanggya also marked the successful conclusion of our final preliminary research trip. Back at the accommodation, Lao Lei and I lay listlessly on our respective beds, fighting off the punishing altitude sickness, while faintly hearing travelers from all over the world in the inn’s courtyard discussing all kinds of life issues.
I think that perhaps only in a place like Tibet can strangers open up their hearts and discuss a bit of philosophy of life without it being considered strange or out of place.
(Image/Text: Liang Junjian)