Marco Ramón, known to his friends as Atoq, photographer and cultural manager in Lima, Peru.

The author tells us about his experiences as a photographer in the citizen protests in Lima, and how his gaze changed the day the police shot him in the eye while photographing the repression of a protest.

When and where did you start photographing? Who has been the reference of your photography?

MR: The Hip-Hop scene from Lima’s boroughs and the protests push me to grab my camera and shoot the reality around me. By the end of 2014, the peruvian government implemented an act that limited the basic laboral rights of young workers, causing a lot of people to go out to protest. We took over the streets, blocked avenues, organized artistic and creative collectives to protest against the laboral conditions and social-environmental conflicts. It was a time of learning and of becoming aware of inequality and injustice. My participation was from photography and counter-information. I wanted to show the government violence, invite people to join the fight. I formed a group called Maldeojo and with my friends we edited fanzines and made photographic exhibitions on the street.

“ I formed a group called Maldeojo and with my friends we edited fanzines and made photographic exhibitions on the street”

My first references were the TAFOS Project, Daniel Pajuelo and Juan Carlos Michilerio. Juan Carlos later became my friend and together with him, other photographers of my generation, with whom I have walked and talked a lot, are now my references in photography.

“ We took over the streets, blocked avenues, organized artistic and creative collectives to protest against the laboral conditions and social-environmental conflicts”

What do you want to communicate with your images?

MR: Through my photography, I want to talk about my damaged vision, my mental state and spit out state violence. I want to convey what I am feeling, while observing the world with my left eye: broken dreams, denial of pain, police records, medical exams, blurred memories, vitrectomy, anger within me, darkness of my thoughts and post-traumatic stress disorder

My gaze changed the day the police shot me in the eye while photographing the repression of a protest. Since then, creating images allows me to embrace my fragility and process the damage suffered more than 4 years ago. By telling my story, I seek to expose the impunity of a criminal state, where I am the victim.

What does documentary photography mean to you?

MR: Street and documentary photography were the entrance to a new world, very interesting social processes, unknown realities and experiences of struggle that changed my way of seeing life. I like to think that the images that I create will become the visual memory of the communities that I have approached and with which I have walked. Many times marginalized, racialized and violated by the State and the class society in which I live, these communities have taught me to resist collectively and with joy.

I think that we no longer need experts, an institution or an academy to tell our own stories, to put them in books, fanzines or on the streets. Often I see more young people along these social processes of change with their art and their personal look, and that’s very exciting.

“I want to convey what I am feeling, while observing the world with my left eye: broken dreams, denial of pain, police records, medical exams, blurred memories...”

How are your life experiences reflected in the symbolisms that we see in your photographs?

MR: The chaotic, distressed and violent city through which I move --fast, on my bike ---has impregnated in my eyes something that I cannot understand, but I do feel. The darkness of the night attracts me, the adrenaline, the danger, my recurring nightmares, I see a confused, blurred reality. All of this reminds me of the damage experienced, the fear that remained inside and the anger that earlier moved me to tell my story.

Recently I have found in my personal history and healing, a source of light that allows me to see things from the other shore, life, love. The images that I am finding now have color, sunshine, the hope that everything will change for the better.

“Recently I have found in my personal history and healing, a source of light that allows me to see things from the other shore, life, love. The images that I am finding now have color, sunshine, the hope that everything will change for the better”

Do you remember your first exhibition / publication? What motivated you to publish your documentary and street photography work?

MR: The first time I showed my photos on the street was in 2015. I got tired of posting photos of protests on Facebook so later along with my colleagues, we decided to print some photos in giant size to stick them on the walls of the city. In 2016, also with Maldeojo, we created LACRA, a virtual space which would later become a collective publication, we sought to create a space for those of us who did not fit the mold of what is right.

The street and documentary photography groups of that time were repeating the same formula and with LACRA we created a very interesting community. We found many dissident glances, wanting to break with the established, that experience filled us with energy and desire to move forward, from there came new collectives, photography fairs, group exhibitions and even a festival.

“in 2016, also with Maldeojo, we created LACRA, a virtual space which would later become a collective publication, we sought to create a space for those of us who did not fit the mold of what is right”

Do you have any future ideas or projects being put together?

MR: Almost 5 years after the attack I suffered , I am in no rush to wrap up a photographic project that tells my story. I think I am just beginning to understand many things that happened to me in all this time. Now I have more patience, I want to live my healing process calmly and peacefully. When I'm ready, I'll pick up some dreams that were cut short, like studying film and traveling the world.

MARCO RAMÓN / ATOQ

MARIANO BRIZZOLA

SILVIA S. HAGGE