España Oculta: Hidden Spain

You received a scholarship to study photography, in Florence. How did that period feed into the start of the project that would eventually become España Oculta? 

I had just finished my BA in fine art and went to Florence to study photography at a school that was, quite honestly, bad. But the lack of teaching there encouraged me to get out on the street, to start making reportage work alone.

The project was born of loneliness. Loneliness which made me think a lot about home. I was yearning for Spain. And I was trying to discover and to learn more about my home country. Through this research I found out about some of the more popular festivals. And with that I discovered a world that was for me so rich, so strange, so mysterious, so happy, so absurd, so ridiculous, so great, so creative, so violent. There were so many things existing at the same time in our traditions, I was surprised that nobody had dedicated themselves to portraying them already.  

I thought at the time that I could do something in five years, but it took me 15 in the end. The more I researched, the more I found. And it became a challenge for me, to discover these hidden traditions, to make them well-known, to make ensure they didn’t get lost to history.

Considering the sheer amount of festivities and lesser-known traditions that Spain has these days – in every village and town – I can’t imagine what a challenge it must have been for a young woman in her twenties, during a dictatorship and without a resource like the internet, to go and find them. 

Finding the information became a real obsession. During those years, any person that would sit next to me on the train or on a bus I would speak to, asking: “Excuse me sir, where are you from? Are there any traditions or festivities in the town where you are from? What about the villages around it?” I asked the same in bars or at any shop I went into. It became truly a necessity for me to find and document these traditional aspects of Spanish life.

Phone operators – who were all women – became my friends. They would put me in touch with the relevant local councils, the police stations or the small bars in these villages who would in turn inform me of upcoming festivals. There often weren’t even taxis that would take me to these villages. I had to befriend postmen and bakers, who would drive me from the nearest big towns to these smaller places. My greatest informants were truck drivers, the homeless, and of course summer fair organizers themselves.

Photographically speaking, what was your approach to the project? What moments within these festivals did you want to capture?

In terms of approaching the shoots, I liked to photograph when the day was almost over, and people had relaxed a bit more. When they’ve done their duties and they feel satisfied about their work. Either that, or I like to photograph when they are getting ready and they are distracted or unaware of me. That’s when I could portray the real hidden scenes or family moments. These sorts of images may of course not fully represent the festival or tradition in question, but I feel they speak way more about the human beings involved in them.

When shooting, what was your position towards the environment? How did you find having to navigate among large masses of people? Did these situations present you particular difficulties?

My background at that time, photographically speaking, was in making portraits and I had no idea what reportage was, but festivities meant movement and action. If I wanted to shoot those moments I had to be quick. So, I learnt on the job what reportage was. I learnt to quickly change lenses, what my position should be to not disturb others, to respect the people and events without missing out. Reportage is a school of life. Your learnings are based on errors and mistakes.

Festivities and, for me, especially festivities in Spain, are all about color. Why did you decided to shoot in black and white?

Coming from my fine art background, color was fundamental for me. But, I felt that this project needed to be made in black and white because to me it is more expressive. It has less creative elements in it. It takes you away from reality, it gives you a sense of mystery and a poetry that one does not get with color. When you shoot in black and white, the picture has to be good or is useless.

During the dictatorship the country closed its doors to the rest of the world. Foreign magazines and newspapers didn’t reach Spain and American movies would get dubbed and censored. Art wasn’t something one was encouraged to pursue. How did you get the training and cameras?

I was very ignorant, I barely knew anything about photography. I tried to buy photography magazines, but it was really hard to find them in Spain. So, I self-taught with the help of courses I took by post.

I was living in Madrid with my sisters and was teaching fine art during the week. I invested the earnings from my teaching in my first camera, a Pentax, and some rolls of film. My sisters allowed me to set up a photo lab in the small bathroom of the house, so I could develop my own pictures. And every weekend, bank holiday, Christmas, or Easter, I’d get on the road to do my work.

A lot of people would say to me, why are you using a Pentax? You should be using a Leica or something better! But I’ve always tried to demystify the camera. The camera itself is not going to give you everything. The camera helps you, but the engine is your heart or your head. Having silver cutlery is not gonna make your food taste any better.