Nicolás Guagnini:

Reinaldo, you’ve been a writer for quite some time, and now you seem to be moving towards a practice that increasingly relies on photography. My first question is: Why photography? What is the connection between this medium of writing and the immediacy of taking a photograph for you?

 

Reinaldo Laddaga:

Well, it started a few years ago when I –who had never had any special interest in photography– became fascinated by what the act of taking photographs was doing to my experience of the world. Without much concern for the results of an increasingly frequent and intense practice, I assembled a collection of thousands of photographs. When asked by Syd Krochmalny to show some of the them in this show he was curating, I put together, in a productive rush, three slideshows under the title “Three Natural Books.” One of them was initially titled “Panic Plants” (but I’m less convinced of this titles now). The second one is called “Lava, Leaks, and Lakes”, and the third is “Burning Stuff”. The almost five hundred images are shown for around eight seconds each, allowing the viewer to enter at any point and experience the narrative in a loop.

 

Nicolás Guagnini:

How do you see the relationship between your photography and your writing? Is it more about documentation, or is it something else?

 

Reinaldo Laddaga:

Photography, for me, has become a way of amplifying reality, and the camera allows me to engage in a form of attention that I have difficulty to attain without it. I do nothing but try to put myself in a state of receptivity as I let the gaze float in response to evolving, sometimes barely discernible forms in the environment. I don’t try to impose too much control. This automatic approach has revealed a new layer of reality that I wasn’t fully aware of before

 

Nicolás Guagnini:

It sounds like you’re using photography almost as a form of fieldwork, like anthropologists do. Would you say you’re classifying the world around you, or are you trying to resist classification?

 

Reinaldo Laddaga:

I think I’m resisting classification in a sense. My procedure requires me to immerse in an environment for hours during which I click the shooter of my camera every few seconds (at a rate not dissimilar to the rate of replacement of images in my slideshow). I try my best to suspend the work of identification: most of the times I don’t know what it is I’m capturing, and I don’t stop in front of a scene long enough to find out. I don’t always understand why I’m drawn to certain images, but I think that’s part of the point. I photograph something only the first –and usually only– time I see it, and I have the perhaps vain hope that the image will retain the forceful vitality of an apparition that led me to stop for a second and point my camera to it in the first place.

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Nicolás Guagnini:

So, it is almost like you’re exploring a type of wonder or astonishment in the everyday. You’re capturing these moments that resist being classified or pinned down, which makes the images more about experience than analysis, almost in a ritualistic way. Does that resonate with what you’re doing?

 

Reinaldo Laddaga:

Exactly. There’s a sense of wonder in not knowing exactly what you’re capturing it and why. It’s a process of discovery which hinges on trying to remain open to the world around me without forcing it into a narrative or conceptual path too soon.

 

Nicolás Guagnini:

I see. And how do you decide which images to include in the final selection? What’s the process for determining which photographs make the cut?

 

Reinaldo Laddaga:

I discard most of the photographs I take; the ones that remain must show that they both call for and resist interpretation and, at the same time, resonate with its companions in the context of the overall project. It’s not a strictly logical process; it’s more intuitive. I always say I photograph events not things: not a certain flower, but the light of a bright day going through a translucent petal half eaten by ants that are blown by a gust of wind. Even with the constant use of repetition in my work, the photographs read to me as a collection of exceptions, scenes that are extremely singular and transient. It’s the opposite of a typology.

 

Nicolás Guagnini:

So you’re essentially trusting your intuition, allowing the images to guide you in shaping the narrative. That seems to align with what you were saying earlier about resisting classification. You’re not imposing a rigid structure; instead, you’re letting the photographs speak for themselves.

 

Reinaldo Laddaga:

Yes, that’s a good way to put it. I think the photographs form their own structure, in a way, and my job is to follow that structure without trying to control it too much.

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Nicolás Guagnini:

That’s a beautiful approach. I will say that as a viewer I am always trying to construct a system of the knowledge I am perceiving and an image completely breaks down that system. It reminds me of certain artists who approach their work with a similar sense of openness, allowing the work to evolve organically. It sounds like both practices are not completely autonomous. Do you feel that this approach to photography has influenced your writing?

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Reinaldo Laddaga:

Absolutely. I think the act of taking photographs has changed the way I think about writing. It’s made me more aware of the richness of the visual field, of all the minute processes that compose every instant and often go unnoticed. And just like with photography, I try to let the writing develop naturally, without forcing it into a predetermined form.

 

Nicolás Guagnini:

That’s really interesting. It sounds like there’s a conversation happening between your photography and your writing, where one informs the other. Would you say that’s true?

 

Reinaldo Laddaga:

Yes, definitely. They are in dialogue with each other, and I think that’s why this project, “Three Natural Books”, has taken the shape that it has. It’s a merging of the two practices, allowing both photography and writing to coexist and inform one another.

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Nicolás Guagnini:

Thank you, Reinaldo. This has been a really enlightening conversation. I think we’ve touched on some important ideas about the intersection of photography, writing, and discovery. I’m excited to see how this project continues to evolve.