Dear Rosa,

It’s a pleasure to have this dialogue with you. You’ve provided a great overview of the situation, and I’m in almost complete agreement with you. Your approach is overarching and tackles the state of the issue, so I think it provides a great starting point. For my part, I shall – if I may – talk in this first missive of some particular aspects and a specific period of time, shifting from a more general to a more focused standpoint. Thus, I’d like to point you towards the last decade, to provide a framework for analysis that coincides with the paradigm shift that occurred after the 2008 crisis.

Also – and it’s important to bear this in mind – the photography of the 21st century has little or nothing to do with that of the previous one: it’s moved on from bearing faithful witness to becoming a complex, polysemic and extremely pliable semantic sign. It would be no overstatement to say that our country has changed more in the last fifty years than in the four preceding centuries. We are living in a time of change towards a model that differs substantially from the previous one. We are seeing a move from the logos society, in which thought was associated with the written word, to the imago society, which turns around and rests upon the image. There has been a metamorphosis from a textual to a visual world[1]. We stand at a time of transformation towards a new way of understanding the image that has little to do with the narrative/documentary sense of black and white photography that was predominant in the 20th century: the time of capturing the instant[2].

David Jiménez, Roma (díptico)

Visuality has imposed itself upon the 21st century, but what role is played by image creators within such a context?

These days, carefully pondering images, researching their uses and studying their ontology, syntax, semiotics, hybridisations or derivations has become a real prerequisite. Visuality has imposed itself upon the 21st century, but what role is played by image creators within such a context? How did we get here? In less than a decade, we’ve seen a shift from palpable objects to the screen. Nowadays, everything is interface and never-ending scrolling and swiping. Tangible reality is replaced by an online surrogate lacking corporeality. The “network culture”[3] absorbs everything that strays into its path with the voracity of a black hole. In this new, ubiquitous world, the physicality of “the photographic” and the value of the display have emerged to reveal aesthetic possibilities that had previously not even occurred to us[4].

There’s no doubt that, as you note, one of the shortcomings of photography in our country is that, more often than not, we are late to the party and behind the curve, meaning that when we do something about it, we fall victim to clichés and the commonplace due simply, I believe, to unfamiliarity or a lack of perspective.

In a world heading towards incorporeality, physical things are becoming increasingly valuable.

Carlos Pérez Siquier, La Chanca, 1963

You mentioned the Sixties, a great time for some Spanish photographers, and I’d like to add something to this that I find surprising: Carlos Pérez Siquier was one of the pioneers of colour photography in Europe. As early as 1960 – and even before that – he began a photo essay on La Chanca (Almería’s gypsy quarter) in colour, one that has few international rivals, with no equivalent work of photography existing at such a level at the time. But is there any demand for it from the other side of the Pyrenees? Are the curators of Europe’s museums even aware of it? Obviously not, and this is probably the case for most of those in Spain, too. There lies one of our frequent problems: the undervaluing of what is ours and the veneration of what comes from abroad, a peculiarity that became deeply rooted in the years of Franco’s dictatorship, a complex that we are only now beginning to overcome, now that the young have cast off some of the burdens of our recent past, due (amongst other reasons) to borders no longer having the importance they once boasted: people no longer live either here or there, but move according to their needs or circumstances from one country to another, without attaching too much importance to the fact. As you say, there’s no longer any use in establishing fixed categories to differentiate what has traditionally been referred to as “photography”: its scope has widened to encompass a considerably greater expanse, which we might more properly call the “visual arts”.

Bubi Canal, Union, 2019

Let me move on to note some characteristic features of the Spanish ecosystem, by extension applicable to any creative endeavour: a lack of basic structures, a short-term mentality, centralism (mistakenly equating a part with the whole, i.e. the capital with Spain), the lack of a visual culture, little desire for or thoroughness in research, a tendency for self-serving conformism, few private collections, excessive dependence upon the public sector, a penny-pinching mindset, contempt for the past and an excess of cronyism and mediocrity. I could go on, but I don’t want to overstress these shortcomings because I believe that, luckily, these peculiarities of ours are becoming less and less important in this globalised world. Individual territories’ idiosyncrasies are fading and we need to assess the approaches of the past more flexibly and less literally. There is a kind of “designation of origin” for photographers, who come from a specific place that defines their personality and outlook. The light of the south of Spain is nothing like that of the country’s north, and growing up in Santander is very different from doing so in Huelva. However, for the latest generation of photographers, the majority of whom were born in the eighties and nineties, this is no longer such a decisive factor. What’s more, they prefer to avoid labelling or typecasting.

Coco Capitán, for example, who was born in Seville, has settled in England and has little contact with the domestic scene, and the case is pretty much the same with Lua Ribeira.

Lua Ribeira (Los Afortunados) 2019

Similarly, Laia Abril is in greater demand internationally than at home, basing herself in Treviso from 2009 and 2014, and before and after that in New York. Israel Ariño is more appreciated in France than in Spain, where he is little known, and only then for his publications. Cristina de Middel moves between Brazil and Mexico. Jon Gorospe lives in Oslo and Ira Lombardía in Syracuse, New York. Pablo Lerma recently moved from New York to Amsterdam, the same trip taken by Carlos Irijalba a few years ago. Alejandro Guijarro built his career in the UK and has now returned to Madrid. Ian Waelder hops between Frankfurt and Palma and Andrés Galeano, Berlin and Barcelona. Norberto Fernández Soriano has just relocated to Antwerp, and previously spent four years in Bristol. Carla Andrade is based in London, without losing contact with her native Galicia. Alvaro Deprit has settled in Rome and Bubi Canal in New York. For newcomers, the diaspora has become a lifestyle: María Tinaut moves between Brooklyn and Valencia; Pedro Barbáchano between Montreal, Cairo and Madrid. Helena Goñi, who always returns to Vizcaya and will shortly leave for New York after a lengthy stay in Paris, has a special link with Canada, where she has spent long periods of time.

Pablo Lerma, A frame of darkness, 2019

Laia Abril (On Abortion) Stories Magda, 2018

Ira Lombardía (Impudens Venus) 01 2017-18

It’s not all adversity: we are increasingly connected with the rest of the world, albeit far from the epicentres of power and with only a degree of impact. They’re beginning to take note of us, and we are progressing step by step, particularly in the last five years or so. As you rightly note, Spain has some magnificent photographers and some first-class raw materials: the problem is the people who make the real decisions… who are not the same as the former. Looking inwards, there are no proper medium or long-term policies for promoting photography, and we have neither the networks nor the strength to establish a solid framework. Looking outwards, there are few prestigious Spanish curators or researchers holding positions of responsibility in important places, and none of them are called upon to manage biennials or large-scale projects of any kind[5]. Marta Gili, who was Director of Paris’s Jeu de Paume until 2018, could be the exception that proves this rule. We lack good theoreticians, with only the essays of Joan Fontcuberta having any impact beyond our borders. There’s a pressing need to establish natural connections, to create true, fluid, spontaneous forms of exchange. Charlotte Cotton’s benchmark book Photography is Magic (2015) only features one Spaniard, Miguel Ángel Tornero. Quite a symptomatic example of how far we are from where things are happening. Before the whole Lehman Brothers crisis[6], this seemed like the land milk and honey, a mirage where profligacy was the norm. When there was plenty, no thought was given to tomorrow, which meant that things then had to be played by ear, adapting quickly to the recession. What’s more, this fictitious inflation forced young photographers to raise their prices and produce on a large scale, an unrealistic increase that has hurt them in their attempts to grow. It really wasn’t the way forward.

Nicolás Combarro,

Despite everything, I do believe that recent years have seen more common sense and measure in that which we call Spanish photography, if such a thing exists. Without blowing our own trumpet too much, we can already point out some green shoots peeking their heads above the wasteland, and I’m optimistic for the decade that has just begun. Highlights would include Joan Fontcuberta winning the 2013 Hasselblad Prize and two Spanish women photographers joining Magnum as associates: Cristina de Middel in 2019 and Lua Ribeira in 2020. Paris’s Maison Européenne de la Photographie has dedicated two exhibitions to two members of Spain’s latest generation: Nicolás Combarro in 2018 and Coco Capitán in 2019, and Amsterdam’s FOAM did the same for Laia Abril in 2020. Also, 2015 saw the opening of the University of Navarra Museum in Pamplona, where Valentín Vallhonrat and Rafael Levenfeldt are quietly carrying out splendid work. Its photographic archives contain, in addition to the Ortiz Echagüe endowment, some 14,000 prints and 100,000 negatives, from the 19th century to the present. Private entities supporting photography are gradually appearing or consolidating their position, implementing approaches to work that look to the future and create international links[7]. In 2017, Almería’s Pérez Siquier Museum was opened by the Fundación de Arte Ibáñez-Cosentino, the foundation that now curates its archive, revealing a huge amount of unpublished material. Shortly afterwards, the Cristina García Rodero Museum opened in Puertollano, the photographer’s home town. Additionally, the Community of Madrid has stood out in these times for its efforts in support of Spanish photography[8], balancing exhibitions and books by longstanding photographers (such as Paco Gómez, Francisco Ontañón, Gabriel Cualladó and Enrique Meneses) with those in the middle of their career (Ricardo Cases, David Jiménez, Tanit Plana, Matías Costa, etc. Also worth pointing out is the ongoing work by Jesús Micó in Cadiz in support of emerging photographers, particularly with the Cuadernos de la Kursala[9]. The period has seen quite a boom in Spanish photobooks and the emergence of a number of quality independent publishing houses (Ediciones Anómalas, Dalpine, Phree, Fuego Books, etc.). Note how Óscar Monzón’s Karma won the 2013 Paris Photo–Aperture Foundation PhotoBook Award, an honour that in 2018 fell to Laia Abril and her On Abortion and in 2020 to Gloria Oyarzabal with Woman Go No’Gree.

Gloria Oyarzabal (Woman go no gree) 2019

To conclude, I’d like to highlight how, thankfully, women’s empowerment in recent years in Spain has caused a significantly increased presence of feminine sensibility in photographic matters, a positive change that can help turn the spotlight on those who previously remained in the shade or had less chance of standing out.

Sema D’Acosta

[1] The youth of today communicate, think and understand the world through images. Ideas are now directly linked to images, and everything is visual. The laptop or mobile screen is nowadays more important than reality itself, and that’s a problem: we’re finding it difficult to differentiate between what we’ve experienced and what we’ve seen, and this changes our imagination and our perception of experience. Let’s not forget that we become the kind of people we are through all this baggage of experience: we are what we have lived, not what we’ve seen. Relationships between today’s kids are deeply affected by what they see. For many of them, having a video chat from their bedroom with someone in another country is simply chatting, talking with a friend. It’s something commonplace that they do on a daily basis, forming a core part of their lives, just like the Internet and their smartphones.

[2] Many new visual works are increasingly conceptual, but do not reject what came before or ignore photography’s marvellous past. Rather, they represent a natural addition to what already exists, broadening its scope, forming part of a common heritage that not only places at the same level disciplines such painting, filmmaking, literature, sculpture, installation and performance art and fashion, but also requires referencing this entire context to be able to interpret these new works that go beyond the confines of traditional photography.

[3] Remedios Zafra coined the term “network culture” in reference to societies—such as our current one—that equate what is most valuable with what is most viewed. In fact, hunkered over our laptop or mobile, far from reality, we don’t really see anything on our screens. “What previously required of us some effort in doing the necessary research to understand, contextualise and understand something can now be called up with a tap of the finger, and is even interpreted and précised with a series of numbers so we can more easily position it”, states the thinker herself in Ojos y Capital (Eyes and Capital, Edición Consonni, Bilbao, 2015). Whilst an eloquent majority of multitasking young people waste their time on YouTube or dancing to the beats of the DJs who pop up on Instagram or TikTok, to move in the opposite direction and stop to think about images represents a radical act of rebellion against the dominant socio-cultural model for this millennial generation. Even more so in an overloaded context such as that of today, with a predominance of a kind of visual entertainment in which the image has ever less to say, exhausted in the very instant it is unveiled.

[4] Photography can be at once object and representation, medium and content, and communicates in an infinite variety of ways, all of them valid. The vernacular has appeared forcefully, as has a concern for how best to approach physical displays and support for the book-object, perhaps the medium in which the image can best realise its syntactic potential. In a world heading towards incorporeality, physical things are becoming increasingly valuable.

[5] The only undisputed beacon of light amongst this darkness on an international level is Joan Fontcuberta.

[6] The party went on for about a decade, from shortly after 2000 until 2010.

[7] Note in this regard the Fundación Mapfre (Madrid and Barcelona) and Bombas Gens (Valencia), a centre opened in 2017 that puts a special emphasis on photography, as is also the case with the CaixaForum (Barcelona, Madrid, Sevilla, Zaragoza, Palma, Girona, Lleida and Tarragona). And, obviously, there’s Foto Colectania (Barcelona).

[8] The Sala Canal de Isabel II art gallery has consistently dedicated space to Spanish photography over the last decade, and let’s hope they continue to do so. The Community of Madrid Ministry of Culture has also stood out for, in addition to the exhibitions, its support and promotion for lesser-known publishers and photographers, via initiatives such as the Fotocanal contest for the best photography book of the year, which started in 2016.

[9] https://extension.uca.es/creacion-catalogo-exposiciones