Photography has taught how to listen to silence. I discovered that silence is not absence, it's balance. Nothing makes sense without silence. That's what I seek in my photography.
nature
Safety when photographing in the outdoors
I like to get out in nature, away from the crowds. Even though I’ve been pretty far from civilization at times, I’m aware that you don’t need to be in a remote place for something bad to happen to you. Anything could happen at any moment, anywhere. If you get hurt and can’t walk, 1 mile becomes 1,000.
In this video, I talk about some of the safety measures I take when I photograph in the great outdoors.
Always keeping in mind that there’s no such thing as a risk-free life and we must embrace some degree risk, this is about minimizing the chances of something happening and increasing the odds of us getting of that situation in one piece.
When is an image worth risking your life?
A big storm was approaching really quick from the West. They were talking about winds up to 100mph and heavy rain -clearly a time to stay indoors, but nothing to worry about. Then, our phones started to go crazy with a sound I hadn't heard in years, and for very different reasons. Back then, it was an Amber alert. This time, though, it was a tornado warning, the first one I'd ever seen.
As we rushed to gather a few things -cameras included, of course- and went down to the crawl space, I thought about how cool it'd be to make an image of a tornado. Should I shelter or should I just wait at the window, ready to capture whatever might happen in the next few minutes?
After a few seconds of doubt, I decided to join the others. We sheltered for 15 minutes until the alert expired. An EF-1 tornado touched down some 10 miles away. A funnel cloud did a bit of damage in our local area as it took down a few trees on nearby power lines - we lost power for 24 hours and, as of the time of writing this, almost 5 days later, we still haven't gotten Internet back.
I'm glad I decided to shelter and not chase the possible tornado. This is one of those cases where an image is not worth risking your life. Capturing that photo would have made no difference.
I can think of just a handful of situations where it'd be worth it, though - scenarios where I'd put myself at risk to take the photo. After all, images have the potential to change the world, if the moment is powerful enough. From the photos of Tiananmen square to the video of George Floyd's death, visual records can spark a revolution and change -or even save- the lives of many.
When it comes to art, though, it's never worth it. It's not only about you - putting yourself at risk might put someone else in danger as well, like a rescue team trying to get to you. Think twice about the possible consequences of making that image.
I've left plenty of images behind because it felt unsafe. Maybe I had to get too close to a cliff, the terrain wasn't stable, it was too windy, or icy, or just too hard to get to. I regret none of those, because more important than getting that one image is to be able to come back tomorrow and get another one.
Please be safe out there, and happy shooting!
Self-play in photography
Self-play is a concept that I find fascinating: artificial intelligence can learn how to play games -like chess- by playing against themselves over and over. Starting from scratch, with no knowledge of what works and what doesn't, machines eventually come up with strategies and plays that surprise even grandmasters, who reward them as "creative". This made me think about photography: how we look for inspiration in other photographers' work, and the value of experimentation.
Read MoreBe your own prophet
I'm currently reading Susan Sontag's On Photography - definitively a thought-provoking book, to say the least.
In Heroism of Vision, she mentions photographer Edward Weston and his supposedly vision of photography as "elitist, prophetic, subversive, revelatory". Sontag attributes to him the following thought:
Photographers reveal to others the world around them [...] showing to them what their own unseeing eyes had missed
This vision does sound a little elitist, painting the photographer as a prophet.
While I distrust truth-tellers, I do believe our photography can be self-revealing and we can become our own prophets. Photography has led me to places where I would normally not be and to situations I wouldn't necessarily put myself in.
It makes me feel alive.
I see image making as the excuse to connect with a forgotten part of the world that doesn't seem to affect us (me) anymore. We live in these little bubbles, away from nature, and photography helps me to find part of that lost connection. It's worked for me and that's why I share my work and passion for photography, because I believe it can work for others as well.
An approach to photography not as a means to show anything to others, but to reveal the world to ourselves.
The Last Forest
There are very few places that remain mostly untouched, pure and wild. Places that we used to call home and that somehow, still feel that way. The Devesa da Rogueira is one of those places, it's The Last Forest.
The Church in Mösern
A couple of days ago and while driving around Mösern, I stumbled upon a church located in an incredible vantage point. Surrounded by mountains, it seems as though a photographer placed it there.
As the forecast was predicting quite a bit of snow up there for the next few days, I knew yesterday would be my only chance to photograph it again. So I went back.
This is the contact sheet. As you can see, I worked the scene from different angles and at different focal lengths. They require some more work, but I love two of those shots.
Urriellu, Asturias, September 2018
Camera and Lens: Sony a6500, 16-70mm f/4 Zeiss
Settings: 16mm, ISO 100, f/6.3, 1/160sec
I've been going through some old images I never had time to work on, and I'm finding a few I really like.
Like this one, taken up in the mountains when the Sun was already setting behind the peaks of Picos de Europa National Park, in Asturias, Spain.
I really can't wait to visit the mountains this winter. Soon!
Getting inspiration in nature
I got started in photography because of nature. It was when I moved to Oregon that I felt like I had to photograph those places my eyes couldn't believe.
I hadn't been out in nature for a while, and I believe that is what was driving my recent lack of inspiration.
Instead of visiting yet another town here in the Algarve, I decided to go on a little hike in some nearby hills (called Fonte de Benémola).
The short-term benefits were pretty clear: I was able to breathe and clear my mind. I think there will be some more long-term benefits, because sometimes all you need to run a marathon is to take that first step.