Sometimes I find it challenging to compare myself to other photography professionals because I am aware that my pursuit is very different. The photography and art I create stem from an unconditional love for everything I capture. To be completely honest and get straight to the point, my photographic journey is directly tied to how I see cetaceans.
This group of animals generates such a special feeling inside me that it’s difficult to compare it to any other emotion. It’s a love so unique and specific. I even spent many years of my life feeling misunderstood until recent years when I finally found people just as “freaky” as I am. That love, that feeling, is my only narrative thread, my only guiding line, the common denominator in every photo I take.
My photographic subjects are cetaceans, which requires me to take photos from a boat. Photographing from a boat is particularly difficult; there’s no precise way to compose the image, there’s almost no control over the elements in the frame, and it’s very complex to anticipate them. As a photographer, you are never in the same geographical location because your support platform is constantly moving, even if just slightly … but what an intense pleasure it is to try! The sea is so beautiful, and its ecosystem is magnificent.
At the beginning of my career as a photographer, as I imagine happens for many, what I primarily sought was to capture the animal as clearly as possible, without distortion, and in the sharpest way (and this still happens every time I encounter an animal for the first time). But once I’ve become familiar with it, once I understand its possible behaviors, I can anticipate and play creatively. I start to play with the vast array of variables the marine environment offers: its textures, its colors, its transparencies…
My passion for this group of animals led me to work on dolphin and whale-watching boats, depending on the season of the year. That job allowed me to equip myself with tools to photograph each of them, learn about their behaviors, and build artistic ideas related to the advantages and disadvantages offered by different weather conditions.
Dolphins are very fast, and they are seen in summer when the natural light is very harsh. Whales, on the other hand, are much slower but much larger and contrast less with the sea. They are around for much of the year, and the light varies depending on whether it’s winter or summer, as does the color of the water and the boat. The technical equipment to use is also diverse because you don’t know if the dolphin will jump next to the boat or 50 meters away, and you don’t know if the whale will raise its tail right next to the person in the bow or a few meters beyond. And both can happen in the same hour.
That’s why if I go sailing without tourists, it’s ideal for me to have two cameras, one with a wide-angle lens and another with a telephoto (not too long because the water’s movement makes framing very difficult). To clarify about tourists, with people on board, the space in the boat gets smaller and my need for alertness increases a lot since there are many factors I need to pay attention to and respond to quickly. In that case, I definitely choose one camera and an all-in-one lens with a super high range that allows me to go from wide-angle to telephoto with just one wrist movement. I’m aware that I’m sacrificing optical quality, but I gain in capturing the moment since changing lenses in these circumstances is not advisable for many reasons.
I am aware that the privilege of being able to take photos from a boat is not something everyone has. However, this job doesn’t consist solely of photographing cetaceans; the source of income comes from people who want to be photographed during the excursion and hire my photography service. So, that adds another layer of difficulty. But, well, the truth is that I can’t complain because, as I’ve said many times, the love I feel for these animals is so strong that communicating and sharing it with tourists greatly aids in their conservation, and I truly enjoy doing it.
The ocean is the most biodiverse ecosystem in the world, and during the boat rides, other species of marine mammals and seabirds also catch my eye and win my heart. I take advantage of the fact that they can be in different contexts, sometimes more terrestrial, opening up another range of possibilities.
In terms of the technical side, the approach is different from field photography, where, for example, you position yourself near a den, hidden in a hide, waiting for the right moment with a carefully composed shot, and sometimes even with controlled lighting. At sea, the framing isn’t static: the horizon rises and falls with the waves, the boat moves forward or backward and also spins on its axis, thus changing the sun’s position in relation to the camera. The subject, as in nature photography in general, is also in motion, intermittently entering and exiting your visual field. From the way I’m describing it, it may sound like an odyssey. I admit it’s complex, but at the same time, everything is possible with training and practice!
So, without the possibility of comfortably composing the shot, what works for me is to think of an idea, a concept. “Show the dolphins’ speed,” “the solemnity of the whales,” “turn the sea and sky into a canvas,” or I might want to, for example, “highlight the mystery of the ocean and how much it resembles us.” That’s how this series was born, made up of images, a video reel, and mixed with poetry. The plan is to continue it, but for now, as it is, it means a lot to me because it comes from my essence.
Series Apariciones, which means “Appearances”
Maybe showing only the surface is a defense mechanism,
or perhaps an energy-saving resource, I don’t know.
Just like the sea, there are also people
you need to dive into a little, show them genuine interest,
and then … only then, like the sea, do the appearances begin.
The fears, the enigmas, the mysteries … but also the magic! ✨
It’s crazy, but while searching for material that identifies me as an artist to illustrate this piece for you, I realized once again that I never stray from the sea. I say “once again” because I had already questioned it before and even analyzed it as something negative, like a limitation. But finally, I came to the conclusion that without the sea, there wouldn’t be any art; without my muse, nothing you are seeing today would exist. So yes … I may be above it, below it, or on the shore, but I can define my art as “artphotography close to the sea.”
