Moments are captured in photographs, and it is these that make it possible, when we look at them again, for a person to take a journey back to that moment, just as it happened in the past. In this way, the journey is relived time and time again.
Over the years, having visited so many photographic exhibitions, I’ve noticed that many of the photographers have travelled and documented this experience in this special way. But I’m not just talking about a tourist trip, but a personal one. They say that travelling is one of the best ways to gain new experiences and, at the same time, to develop as a person.
You gain more knowledge, learn new things, and have those special experiences that you only get if you step outside your comfort zone. I have lived through this and done so intensely, and I can assure you that it is true. That is why, when I visit an exhibition of this kind, I understand what the person behind it has experienced. A journey is not just about looking at landscapes; it is about looking within oneself. An inner journey. Of course, this is true when that is the intention, or when that journey touches the soul.
In this case, through this exhibition, María Lumbreras documents a journey she undertook with friends through the High Atlas and along the pre-Saharan roads in southern Morocco. For her, it was a profound exercise in personal introspection.
I have also noticed that when something painful happens in our lives – something that affects us deeply, such as a loss, we may find ourselves embarking on this sort of journey, as if to rediscover ourselves, and I believe this is what happened to this photographer.
Exhibitions of this kind are always accompanied by information sheets where I can read about the subject in detail, and I’m delighted by this because it allows me to convey to all of you the meaning behind each photographic exhibition.
She is a photographer who takes her time, a keen observer, who knows a great deal about technique but places greater importance on emotions. She sets herself the challenge of working with basic equipment and moves like a cat when she has the camera in her hand; her movements are gentle, and she waits attentively before each shot with a deep gaze, as if what lies before her goes beyond what is simply visible, the physical world.
As I learnt a little more about the exhibition, I realised I’d never seen anything quite like it. If you look closely, each scene is composed of several superimposed photographs, delicately arranged to form a panoramic image that unfolds like a story. The photographs are layered, and whilst they don’t always align perfectly at the top and bottom, they do at the centre, telling that story.
I’d never seen anything like it before. I then read in the information provided there that María took the photographs with a hasty framing, from the minibus she was travelling in. She moves away from the superfluous and focuses on the essence of what is happening. That is why unexpected people often appear in the photographs.
Another point is that the photographs were not taken with a camera but with a mobile phone, and you have to bear in mind the glass through which she was taking the photos. It seemed incredible what I was reading, and then I looked at the photos and it was even more incredible. Furthermore, what she does most is emphasise the colour green in all her shots.
This exhibition has been organised in collaboration with the photographer José Luis Gutiérrez, who is also the curator. It demonstrates mastery in the editing of the photographs, as well as the immense effort involved in that editing process itself, given that the photographs were taken without any technical equipment, without a camera, and given their sheer volume. It really is a magnificent piece of work.
The close creative and emotional rapport between the two photographers is evident, as is the respect and sensitivity with which Gutiérrez has explored the material, whilst maintaining the spirit of his colleague.
These are very powerful, unsettling images, particularly due to their green filter. The fragmentation of the sequences that is evident makes the exhibition highly original, but in reality this was achieved by the very way the photographs were taken, from a moving vehicle, capturing a human landscape and life as seen through the vehicle’s windscreen.
For all these reasons, there is a kind of poetry in the sequences on display, which speaks of time, space, people, life and the landscapes characteristic of that place. Looking at each of the photographs transports us to that place and to the feelings the photographer experienced, to that inner journey that is sometimes necessary to rediscover ourselves.
Thank you very much for joining me today; I wish you all a wonderful Sunday. See you soon. Amonet.
All photographs are my own.
