We had the opportunity to talk to Nicolás Marticorena about his series, Aridez (Aridity), currently on view in our annual public outdoor exhibition Vision(ary). The work explores the concept of ecological and ’emotional’ aridness through the photographer’s solo journeys across his homecountry Chile, Mexico and Marruecos. An interview with the artist follows.
Nicolás Marticorena (Santiago de Chile, 1983). He studied journalism and photography at Andres Bello University and has a PhD in Sociology from the University of Barcelona, Spain. As a journalist and sociologist, his approach to analog photography began during college with an initial interest in documentary photography. Over the years, he has been exploring other styles and developing a personal photographic look, which he conducts as a process of internal search and expression that allows him to connect with the contemplation of the environment, people, and the intimate. Since 2021, he has deepened his photography knowledge and capabilities through workshops with renowned photographers Luis Poirot and Fernanda Larraín, with whom he has been learning laboratory techniques for more than two years. In 2023, he was part of Pasajero, a group exhibition of analog photography at Centro Cultural Las Condes.
Follow Nicolás Marticorena on Instagram: @nicolas_marticorena
Nicolás, let’s imagine we are on a photo trip around Chile, Marruecos, and Mexico — the places where your series Aridity takes place. Where would you take us first and why?
Without a doubt, Chile. It is the place I know best, it is my environment, and it is where my interest in connecting with aridity originates. I believe that as photographers, our perspective is always more enriching when we capture what we inhabit the most—be it a specific space, a theme, an emotion, or a particular interest. From there, we can create and understand the paths and evolution of our photographic projects. And Chile, especially the province of Petorca, is the space that has allowed me not only to develop a more personal perspective on a very sensitive socio-environmental issue but also to embark on a journey of self-discovery, where I have sought to connect the photographic process with my emotions through the images I have taken over the years of landscapes, people, and communities.
I would take you on the route I usually follow through the province’s roads, with no other goal than to travel at a leisurely pace until I have the chance to find those places and situations that spark an intimate interest in photographing and getting to know those who live in these towns struggling to obtain water, learning about their lives, their memories, their surroundings, and their relationship with the mountains and nature.
In all the places we are going to, why is water — or better said, the lack of thereof — so important to you and to the narrative thread of your project?
Through the images, I delve into the thread of aridity as an environment that allows me to connect with resilience. It relates to the ways in which nature, the landscape, and those who live with that environment adapt, as well as to those who travel or have traveled through an emotionally difficult path. In my view, aridity somehow drives us to seek the extension of life and transforms into a context that makes us reflect on what we were, what we are, and what we want to be. This deeply intrigued me, especially considering that the climate emergency we are experiencing is expanding the presence of aridity in our world in every sense.
When I started this project in Petorca, an area suffering from the effects of climate change through an unprecedented megadrought, I began making recurrent trips to the area as an observer. I gradually familiarized myself with the context, the environment, and spent long days traveling alone, exploring mining routes, and conversing with people I met along the way. This dynamic allowed me to perceive the resilience of the environment, but also to feel my own resilience in relation to the situation and my personal experience. I realized the ambivalent effect of aridity on me and also began to notice that other trips I was making or wanted to make to other places—such as Mexico and Morocco—had commonalities with Petorca.
Travel to photograph or photograph to travel? What are the implications of each?
Perhaps it’s a mix of both; I think there is a reciprocal relationship. Traveling is one of the most exciting activities we can engage in, and personally, it is one of the most cherished times for me to immerse myself in a subject and dedicate myself exclusively to photography, without distractions. It’s my chance to be amazed. Conversely, I believe that photography often leads us to discover, delve into, and develop an interest in new destinations. Since I was young, I’ve been fortunate to travel, but when I started integrating photography into that exploration, I benefited from a combination that expanded my experiences and travel horizons far beyond, whether near or thousands of kilometers away. Today, photography defines my travels and profoundly influences the destinations I choose; those that support my creative process and self-discovery.
What is on your mind when you hold your camera when you are photographing a person versus a landscape?
It’s difficult for me to describe or generalize. There are times when I find myself encountering a person as part of a particular situation, inhabiting an eye-catching space, or reflecting an expression that draws my attention. At those moments, I feel the impulse to photograph, encountering a certain surprise that motivates me to capture the instant and offer my own interpretation of reality. Or there are times when circumstances lead me to a meeting through conversation and interaction, allowing me to get to know a person a bit better and discover them. That’s when the opportunity to create a portrait arises.
When I photograph a landscape, I also feel an unconscious impulse; something compels me to pick up the camera and record. I’m drawn to composition, light, and textures, but underlying it all is something irrational. The photographer Graciela Iturbide says that when we photograph, we interpret a very subjective reality that somehow conveys our previous experiences and emotions. I feel a strong connection with what she mentions. I believe that when I’m alone, with my camera in hand, and I come across a landscape, situation, or person to photograph, I’m unconsciously capturing a moment that reflects a part of who I am and who I have been.
What are your photo essentials you take when you go on such photo trips?
I try to travel as light as possible. I carry a medium-sized backpack in which I keep a light meter, a remote shutter release, some rolls of film, a 35mm camera, and of course, my Rolleiflex, which has been very useful on these trips. It’s a camera that, in a way, seems to generate trust and curiosity in people when I photograph them. It has opened some doors for me.
If you could add one more country to your project, where would you travel next?
I would love to have the opportunity to explore Iran in depth. It’s a country that seems enigmatic to me, culturally rich, and with landscapes that are deeply moving. I’ve gotten to know it a bit more through its artists, its cinema, and significant photography books like Gilles Peress’s Telex Iran: In the Name of Revolution. It’s a country experiencing aridity and, unfortunately, is also severely affected by water scarcity. I hope that when the military and political tensions ease, I’ll have the fortune to explore it.
I also want to explore the northern part of Chile more deeply, with its desert and highlands. This September, I will travel to the town of Putre to start a journey by land to Calama, where I hope to continue expanding my Aridity project.
