Paul Gambin is an Italian-British photographer, videographer, and editor based in Cusco, Peru, who uses photography and video to dissect and analyze issues related to culture, language, and perception. Throughout his career, his photographic vision has developed from questioning the ethics of the medium to focusing on the relationship between subjectivity and objectivity.

Exploring archives and collaborating with the people he photographs, Paul uses time, memory, and identity to build multi-layered narratives that blend multiple perspectives, inviting the viewer to construct their realities.

He is a National Geographic Explorer, a Freelance Photographer for Reuters, a regular contributor to Le Monde, and co-founder of the Center for the Arts in Urubamba, Maleza.

When and where did you start photographing?

PG: I started photographing quite late, in 2015 or 2016, and it was not something I would have thought about much before. It gave me my first camera, and I went on a trip for a few months between jobs. My camera became an excuse to be curious, almost invasive, and offered me an excellent opportunity to poke my nose into situations I would otherwise have ignored. In that way, photography took me places and gave me experiences that I would not have had, and it all became quite addictive.

“Alec Soth greatly influenced my work early on; he opened my eyes to the many possibilities that photography could explore. From there, I was lucky enough to start working as a cultural manager at Magnum Photos. Therefore, it is unsurprising that many Magnum photographers have greatly influenced my work.”

I guess many photographers start this way, and I had this vision of shooting travel and nature stories like National Geographic photographers or something similar, and that was my first naive approach to photography.

When I returned from my travels and began to explore what London, my hometown, had to offer in terms of photographic culture, my vision broadened, and my goals changed. I distinctly remember Alec Soth's Gathered Leaves exhibition at the Science Museum, which ultimately turned my world upside down; he was doing something with photography that, in my ignorance, I had never imagined possible. There was so much melancholy, sentiment, and symbolism in his work that it overwhelmed me.

Who has been the reference for your photography?

PG: As I mentioned, Alec Soth greatly influenced my work early on; he opened my eyes to the many possibilities that photography could explore. From there, I was lucky enough to start working as a cultural manager at Magnum Photos. Therefore, it is unsurprising that many Magnum photographers have greatly influenced my work.

They had this great library of books in the office, and I would spend my lunch breaks and any other free time with my nose stuck between the pages. I discovered the work of Sohrab Hura, who, like Alec, could express a lot with his work and his narratives. There is a unique rawness and intimacy to his work that again shocked me and changed everything, and as a result, I applied the same introspection and sense of place to my work.

I started collecting books, which became my school since I had never studied photography. More than photographers, photobooks, which are a combination of work between a photographer, an editor, and a designer, have been my most significant influence. Some great books that I can think of that have influenced my thinking are Larry Sultan and Mike Mandel's book Evidence, which deals with the inherent subjectivity of photography, and Jim Goldberg's Raised by Wolves, which carries the idea of photography on another level, less visual and more narrative. Hayahisa Tomiyasu's TTP is a beautiful book about the obsession and possibilities of photography, and Darcy Padilla's Family Love, while by no means a great book, is a perfect example of how haunting and profound photography can be.

I love Chilean photographer Larraín's poetic vision. However, I'm not too enamored with reissues of his books, and living in Latin America has played a part in how my aesthetic has developed in recent years. Some great books that have influenced my practice since I arrived in Latin America are Rules for Fighting by Paola Jiménez, which is incredibly personal yet accessible, and Vorágine by Orlando de la Rosa, which can be raw but heartbreaking, among many other incredible works.

What do you want to communicate through your photography?

PG: It's a tricky question that leads to an identity crisis and keeps me suffering from impostor syndrome. It depends on what I'm doing, but I will approach it from a personal perspective, less about the editorial photography or coverage I've done or want to do and more about my authorship.

I think conceptually; I'm always trying to question the medium. Like the Larry and Mike book I mentioned earlier, I want to challenge the notion of objectivity in photography, which remains a rampant debate among the photographer and hobbyist community. I also believe that part of my role as a photographer today is to bring something new to the conversation about photography as an art form, and I am constantly trying to understand the notions of what photography should be and what I should not in my way.

“I think conceptually; I’m always trying to question the medium. Like the Larry and Mike book I mentioned earlier, I want to challenge the notion of objectivity in photography, which remains a rampant debate among the photographer and hobbyist community.”

Beyond this, I need to communicate something personal yet universal. This story is mine, but that can be understood and felt by those beyond me (I learned this from Antoine d'Agata in Mexico, who kept questioning me and other students on this point).

In this way, I invite the reader of my projects to question assumed norms, such as family dynamics or love. I ask the reader to think critically about the issues I address and see themselves reflected. It may sound redundant or pompous, but critical thinking is everything to me, regardless of the outcome or whether my work is accepted or liked. Doing that is communicating something special.

“I realized a long time ago that I should try to tell my own experiences, or at least reflect myself in my photos as much as possible (although, is it possible not to?).”

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

PG: I realized a long time ago that I should try to tell my own experiences, or at least reflect myself in my photos as much as possible (although, is it possible not to?). I don't see this as selfish, and it's not because I'm more interested than what I'm photographing, which of course, I'm not. It comes from the realization that I am better equipped to tell my own experience than others and that if you accept that photography is purely subjective, getting this approach frees you from the shackles of impossible objectivity.

PAUL GAMBIN

SHOE

MARCO GARRO