Photography finds the right people to tell stories either by chance or by accident; -This is not the case- for Eleonore Simon. She discovered her visual narrative while travelling finding her identity and her nomadic heritage.

VALPARAÍSO

What motivated you to move from New York to Valparaíso (Chile) and start this project?

ES: I left New York for Chile at the end of 2016, with a one-way ticket and no clear plan. But this impulsive decision was not out of character and I believe it had a lot to do with my fairly nomadic childhood.

When we were young, my parents moved every three to four years, to a different country or, after settling in France, to a different region. During the last year of my art history degree, I wanted to follow in their footsteps and continue traveling, so I signed up for an exchange program that took me to Philadelphia. After graduating, I moved to New York, where I stayed for 6 years. It was the longest time I had spent anywhere in the world and I was ready to move on, only I didn't know how. My sister finally gave me the push I needed: she, her Chilean husband, and their two-month-old son had moved from France to Chile just a few months earlier, and they invited me to visit. And like that, what was supposed to be a pause in the life I'd built in the United States became a new beginning, both for me and for my photography.

“When I started photographing Valparaíso, I was taken by the magic of the place and felt that there was something here for me. I also understood why the city had fascinated so many artists before me, and I wanted to learn more about it and the people who call it home. I started learning Spanish and was soon able to find my way in the maze of narrow streets, dead ends and steep stairs”

When I started photographing Valparaíso, I was taken by the magic of the place and felt that there was something here for me. I also understood why the city had fascinated so many artists before me, and I wanted to learn more about it and the people who call it home. I started learning Spanish and was soon able to find my way in the maze of narrow streets, dead ends and steep stairs. My family was also a strong anchor: I wanted to be present in my nephew's life, and later in the lives of his brothers.

What kind of activities in the port currently drive your work of documenting the development of the area?

ES: Now, as always, certain places, atmospheres, and moods drive me more than any activities in particular. Your question has me imagining a photographer jumping headfirst into the heart of a bustling city. But these whirlwinds are not for me, my pace is calmer, and my approach discreet.

When the city still lived to the rhythm of its events, I would always go. The Thousand Drums Carnival, the celebration of St. Peter's Day, and the Burning of Judas, among others. I love getting to know these traditions and being in a crowd. Some of my best memories come from these occasions. One year on St. Peter’s day, after the procession of the statue of this Patron Saint of fishermen in the streets of Valparaíso, a fisherman invited me aboard his boat with his loved ones. I jumped at the chance to continue the festivities in a sea of decorated boats, the fishermen of both caletas of the port gathered in the procession. It was my birthday, my thirtieth of all things, and after setting foot on dry land, we celebrated the day together with a drink in a bar of the port. Would you believe that I don't have a single good picture of that day?

These events are for me to enjoy, to experience, but perhaps not to photograph. They contribute to my understanding of the city, they feed my love of the port and in that sense, they add to my work, even if not directly. I am a photographer of the everyday, of the immediate, of the things you would pass by without giving them a second glance. In this banality, I think there are moments of emotion, reflection, and space to see them.

Other artists, such as Sergio Larrain, have developed photographic projects in the area. Do you consider that your project has elements and/or symbolism of other visual works as a reference?

ES: I admire Sergio Larrain's work. Maybe it shows. There is much to learn from his book Valparaíso: an essence of the photographic gesture and of the city that he was able to capture.

But I always find it difficult to talk about my influences. There are many artists I look up to, but it is much harder knowing to what extent they guide my practice, or if the questions they inspire appear in my work. Often, what I admire most in other artists are the areas of tension, the aspects in which we diverge, what I would like to be able to do or see.

The same is true with Larraín. His most famous image is one of two girls descending a staircase, from the early 1950s. It carries a beautiful geometry, a play of light and shadow, and a surreal tone that resonate with my own work. But the images of Larraín I come back to over and over again are different, freer, oblique, closer to the ground and to details of the city. Images that, if they were mine, I might be too fast to deem accidental.

“Aside from Larraín, it is worth discovering the city through the poetic film by Joris Ivens, À Valparaíso, and through the eyes of Anders Petersen and Alberto García-Alix in two photographic essays entitled Valparaíso”

Aside from Larraín, it is worth discovering the city through the poetic film by Joris Ivens, À Valparaíso, and through the eyes of Anders Petersen and Alberto García-Alix in two photographic essays entitled Valparaíso. Petersen chose for his cover a photograph of pelicans feasting on garbage. The opening image in García-Alix’s book shows a hand in the foreground, reaching out to the Pacific. A pelican flies nearby. Pelicans, stray dogs, fishermen, sailors... It is almost impossible to avoid some of the characters of the seaport. They also live in my work. As for the intense sun in Valparaíso, and the deep shadows it produces, look no further than Larraín and Ivens. But I wouldn’t say that these elements are referential. If we follow in those footsteps, it is because something of the heart of the port lives here, vividly, and these characters have come to evoke and symbolize the whole of Valparaíso.

We see that abstraction and geometric compositions are a constant in your images; at the same time, there is a palpable dynamism in the composition. How do you manage to get out of the monotony and challenge yourself by constantly documenting the same locations?

ES: It's true that I love well-constructed images, a heritage from my art history studies, perhaps. But I find it difficult to strike a balance between the harmony of the different elements of an image and maintaining a dynamic composition, so I'm glad you think I've succeeded!

I love your question because you talk about monotony as something that permeates both the practice and the images. Of course, process and images go hand in hand but for me, there's an important distinction: while I never get bored photographing, I can get tired of my own images.

“But that doesn’t mean that the images always live up to this feeling, this curiosity. Sometimes I come back with images that only seem to be a variation of a photograph that already exists, one I’ve made before”

Like many street photographers, some places keep me coming back again and again. The Caleta Portales, the Playa Ancha cemetery, the seafront promenade, certain hills, and my quiet neighborhood are some of these well-traveled places. Although it may seem monotonous, each new day brings its changes, small or notable, and I always find something to photograph, a detail I had not seen before. And how on earth could I have missed it? That is why photography is the most wonderful companion: with a camera, everything suddenly becomes interesting, worth looking at.

But that doesn't mean that the images always live up to this feeling, this curiosity. Sometimes I come back with images that only seem to be a variation of a photograph that already exists, one I’ve made before. We all work within our obsessions, and I believe it’s a good thing, a true driving force. But by being receptive, there are always some images that take you in a different direction, that go a little further. It’s important to recognize them, set them aside, and allow them to feed your reflection. In the end, photography is more about editing than anything else.

How has the continuity of this project - if at all - been affected in these times of pandemic? What are your future plans with this or other projects?

ES: Between the beginning of the pandemic and now, I've spent about six months in strict confinement. It hasn't been easy, but it's been comforting to see the Pacific out the window. Only street photography isn’t done from a window, and this project had to be paused for months, almost a year.

Earlier you asked me about monotony. Ever since I’ve been a photographer, I’ve been a street photographer, working in black and white. Most of the obsessions that appear in my work now can also be found in my early photographs. So I have often wondered, worried perhaps, whether I would always be working in the same vein, and whether I would get tired of it. But during the pandemic, very organically, I began to explore different directions in my home: cyanotypes, instant photographs, even video. So this period ended up opening creative possibilities I would never have dreamed of. Perhaps these new explorations will influence the way I photograph Valparaíso, in one way or another.

As for the problems of continuity, when I returned to the streets these last couple of months, I suddenly found myself in a masked city. Besides hiding the expressiveness of people, the masks mark the photographs clearly in the times we are living in. But in my work, I intentionally look for a timeless quality: were the images taken last year, five years ago, or even ten years ago? I will have to see how my street photography evolves in this new reality, and if I can continue working in this ambiguity I seek. It is possible that this period will mark a stopping point in my Valparaíso work as it has evolved until now, a chance to turn it into something else, to give it form, to make a book perhaps. But I trust the process, letting time do its work, and all the surprises that the port still has to offer. At the same time, I enjoy the different directions I have started to explore this past year, and I admit that they excite me more than street photography at the moment.

Finally, can you comment on what it has been like for you to photograph Valparaíso over the years? What lessons have you learned from capturing this city and its people? What does it mean to you to represent this Latin American culture as a visual artist?

ES: I can’t even express how much these years living and photographing in Valparaíso have impacted me. A kaleidoscope of images, sounds, photographs, memories come to mind, the kind that builds you: my nephew's first day of kindergarten, the first time I gave someone a photograph I took of them, my first fonda, or even the first time I was able to make a truly Chilean joke. I have learned from all these small ways in which a culture seeps in. I have learned also from having been here during historic changes, from the pandemic to the social movement that started in late 2019. I will not forget the sound of the cacerolazo at night, and Victor Jara's El Derecho de Vivir en Paz resounding in the hills of Valparaíso after curfew.

“I also believe that photography is deeply subjective: we arrive with our own baggage, personality, photographic style, which are all prisms through which we see and show. So I can’t pretend to explain Valparaíso, much less Latin American culture. Valparaíso is a complex, mysterious and contradictory city, with riches and miseries, beauty and grit, sometimes seemingly from another era”

Over time, subtly, I think my photography in Valparaíso has become more intimate, a consequence of getting closer to the place, to its people, and also of having grown more confident in my own voice. But when you ask me how I feel about representing this culture? That gives me pause. I am well aware that I am a foreigner here, one who still has a lot to learn, with care and curiosity, with and without a camera. I also believe that photography is deeply subjective: we arrive with our own baggage, personality, photographic style, which are all prisms through which we see and show. So I can’t pretend to explain Valparaíso, much less Latin American culture. Valparaíso is a complex, mysterious and contradictory city, with riches and miseries, beauty and grit, sometimes seemingly from another era, but in continuous movement, transformation, and struggle. A true collage. So the best I can do is portray my impressions and interrogations: in these images, I believe there are truths about Valparaíso and about me, but it is up to the viewer to find them.

ELÉONORE SIMON

VALPARAÍSO

TONATIUH CABELLO

LIDY AGUILA