Entrevista publicada en el Blog de Leica, con motivo de mi trabajo con comunidades indígenas.
Kike Calvo is an outstanding photographer with a diverse body of
work. After spending five years studying Economics in his home city of
Zaragoza, Spain and then acquiring a B.S in Journalism and Mass
Communication, he went on to devote his 21-year-long career to
photography. Kike has traveled to 75 different countries covering
stories for National Geographic, but he also has an extensive portfolio
of editorial and commercial work, as well as personal projects. He also
teaches extensively on the subject and has been a guest speaker at
several Leica Akademie workshops. We had the chance to speak with Kike
about his recent trip to Panama to document the Indigenous Embera
communities.
Q: What is it that motivated you to tell the story of the Embera
communities along the Chagres River in Panama? Why were you attracted to
this group and this region in particular, and what did you hope to
achieve?
A: The Republic of Panama is divided in several provinces and its
indigenous population is formed by seven distinct groups, which are the
Kuna, Embera, Waounan, Ngobe, Bugle, Nassau, and Terribe people. The
first Comarca Indigena, official indigenous territory in Panama was
created in 1938 in the San Blas archipelago by the Kuna people.
The outside world thinks of the country as the home of the Panama
Canal and a paradise for investments, but don’t stop to think about the
indigenous communities living within its borders. Indigenous peoples,
especially in Central America and not only in Panama, have always
struggled with modernization and concepts of capitalism and market
economy. The Embera are no different.
They are forced to adapt to deforestation, migrations and development
pressure. Younger generations need to go off to school to the city to
live and work. Their lives have inextricably changed. Indigenous people
realize that to fight for their political and human rights, they need a
modern education. Costly modern medicine has replaced shamanism and
natural healing practices in some places. There are now villages that
have their own generators for electricity, but villagers need to pay for
the gasoline necessary to run them. Most communities have no land
titles and no authorization to exploit the land commercially. Many
villages lose their young people who go work in the city. They are
almost always underpaid.
Q: We assume that you shot the compelling black-and-white images in
your recent Panama portfolio with Leica M9. Why did you choose to output
the images in black-and-white and which lens or lenses did you find
were most useful for this project?
A: On a regular basis I see the world around me in color. But since I
started working with the M8, and later the M9, my attention to
storytelling has acquired a new perspective. Some issues need to be
told, but do not demand colorful splashes to capture the essence of the
story.
Q: Was there any physical or operational characteristic of the Leica
M9 camera and the prime (single focal length) lenses you used that you
found especially useful in allowing you to articulate your vision?
A: My vision has evolved since Leica cameras became a unique part of
my shooting style. I evolved from Nikon cameras, which I still use for
my nature and underwater shooting. But my M9 has become an extension of
myself while on the field seeking stories. I realized that I like its
simplicity. The fact that for those who don’t know, it’s just an old
camera, still fascinates me. It allows my subjects to relax in front of
my lenses and gives me the freedom to wander in areas or neighborhoods
that otherwise will be quite dangerous.
The 28mm f/2.8 and 50 f/1.4 are always in my camera bag. My recent
trip around Cuba with National Geographic Expeditions, included only
those focal lengths for the ten days of the trip in Havana, Cienfuegos
and Trinidad.
Q: One of your images shows a male youth with most of his head cut
off by the framing. Only the bottom of his face is partially visible and
that is in shadow, yet you can see what looks like traditional
geometric designs tattooed on his prominent left arm and water droplets
on his smooth skin. It is certainly a picture that effectively breaks
the rules. Can you say something about it and what it means to you?
A: Rules are to be learned and then broken to achieve our creative
goals. While it is true that beginners need to be guided into the rule
of thirds and similar approaches, these are only the beginning of our
way. It all changed from me when Gerd Ludwig reviewed my work, after
having met at the Geographic Annual meeting in DC. He suggested my
compositions should become more loose, not trying to constrain the
reality around me within perfectly framed images. His words made a
strong impact.
Q: Your fascinating picture of a group of people with their backs
toward the camera assembled under a large thatched-roof structure has a
timeless quality, as though it could have been shot yesterday or 100
years ago. Was this intentional and what do you think it communicates to
the viewer?
A: I believe all photographers work hard to obtain timeless
photographs. Sometimes people think of photography, as something simple
that almost anyone can do. In a way I agree, but the more you deepen
into yourself, the more intricate the relation between the photographer
and his/her work it becomes. As I always begin my photography workshops
explaining, I believe I have thought more in developing my photo career,
than having studied five years of Macro and Micro Economics, Accounting
and Statistics for my Economics degree. Photography freezes time, yet
our creative decisions are taken within a second, even less. Variables
around us change constantly, yet our heart and souls dream of capturing
such moments. Photography is about self introspection. A trip to within,
similar to yoga, where instead of competing with the world, we should
grow internally.

Q: The lovely group shot showing three women in traditional dress and
a pretty young girl in the middle, similarly attired, all looking
directly at the camera, has a serene and peaceful quality. Do you think
it says something about the character and disposition of the Embera
people, and if so can you elaborate on that?
A: I feel that our world is still full of warm-hearted people. Many
of those who fight daily to achieve their dreams and goals or simply try
to survive. The Embera, like many of those pressured indigenous
communities, are still connected to our natural world. While hard to
approach on an initial phase, when they choose to open up their world,
they present themselves as serene and peaceful, like a river flowing in
the mountains.
Q: The compelling close-up of a smiling young boy holding a plant
stalk that places a large leaf over his head seems to say “happy in
nature.” Would you agree and can you comment on this?
A: I particularly like this moment. I traveled with a group of kids
to a close by waterfall in Soberania National Park. On the canoe ride,
the children lively played, competing to see who was the one that caught
more leafs from the moving water surface. The photos captures the
essence of life in this humid areas — the bond between human and nature.
Q: Your remarkable image of a swimmer surrounded and totally obscured
by rings of splashing water also conveys that humans and the natural
world are one, and there is hardly any distinction between them. Is this
something that the Embera people still possess that we in the
industrial West have lost, and do you think they have something to teach
us?
A: Certainly. On my expeditions around the world, from the high
Arctic to the Amazonian jungles, I have been constantly inspired by that
bond. When people in developed countries decide to swim, they head to
the gym or the pool. The Embera, when they feel they should do so, walk
25 meters and deep into the Chagres River in front of their villages.
This moment happened at the end of the day, after I had been swimming
with the children and teens of the community in the muddy rivers, trying
to capture some underwater moments with my housing.
Q: The image of a man and woman (perhaps husband and wife) with the
seated man weaving a traditional design while the standing woman looks
down with her hand on the man’s shoulder has a certain timeless and
tender quality. Also the woman in her finery and the man working says
there is something about this society that transcends the usual
stereotypes. Can you comment on this?
A: For some of these communities, tourism is becoming a way of
surviving. Pressured by development and daily difficulties, they
struggle to sell their arts and crafts in local markets or to the
occasional visitors. As my recent incorporation to the United Nations
UNITE project as a Support Artist against gender violence, I have
started to pay close attention to gender roles and interactions in Latin
America.
Q: Do you think you have, by and large, achieved your goals in your
overall coverage of the Embera indigenous communities? Do you plan to
return to the Chagres River region to deepen your visual impressions, or
have your experiences there inspired you to cover other indigenous
people or other cultures in Panama or elsewhere?
A: I would say that these group of images its just a scratching on
the surface of the tales to be told. Soft strokes on a unique canvas,
that with time, I hope to complete, or at least, perfect slowly. I have
already started photographing other indigenous groups, such as the
Ngobe’s coffee collectors.
Q: What do you think your next project will be, and do you plan to
cover it with your Leica M9 and display the images in black-and-white?
A: Like all of us who breathe photography, there are always new
projects in the pipeline. I have an ongoing series with ballerinas from
all around Latin America, which I would love to share with Leica readers
in the future. This is a color project, and most of it is being
incorporated to the National Geographic Image Collection. In a parallel
way, as an expert of the National Geographic Expeditions Team in Cuba, I
have been portraying the reality of this Caribbean country for many
years. I started during the special period after the collapse of the
Berlin Wall and the Soviet Union’s support to Cuba, and continue today.