VICTOR ZEA
All right reserved ©Victor Zea
Victor Zea (Lima, Peru, 1989). Freelance photographer based in Cusco, Peru. He has worked +4 years as a photojournalist in national coverage media. Currently, he is focused on personal projects exploring topics such as territory and identity.
We don't rap, we make family
How did you decide to approach the dynamics of the Hip Hop and Rap community in Peru?
VZ: The beginnings of this project are given at the same time as I started with photography. In 2010, on my first trip to Cusco, I met Aurelio de la Guerra, an artist who opened the doors of his project "La Casa Pocofloro" (Lima), which was a space in the Historic Center of the capital, a synergy of artists and activists who from the theater, murals, audiovisuals, traditional music, hip-hop, and other various tools pushed a social commitment, activating from cultural days and organizing in marches, I remember at that time "The great march of water" against the Conga Mining Project of Minera Yanacocha in Cajamarca.
It is there where I met Pedro Mo, El Dedos, Comite Pokoflo, Sonido de la Resistencia, rappers and groups that sounded on my mp3, practically I was (I am) a fan of their music and in that space, they became very close friends. We have walked together not only sharing gigs but also collaborating musically and recording video clips from their closest environment. At that time, I was rapping in a funk group “Big Pollo” and we started to make a move at Casa Pocofloro every Monday, called “Monday of Jammin”. That space was detonating because rappers with incredible talent came down from different sides of Lima to do freestyle, while “Big Pollo” did the bases. So I started documenting the scene and I could say that’s how it all started.
“At that time, I was rapping in a funk group “Big Pollo” and we started to make a move at Casa Pocofloro every Monday, called “Monday of Jammin”. That space was detonating because rappers with incredible talent came down from different sides of Lima to do freestyle, while “Big Pollo” did the bases. So, I started documenting the scene and I could say that’s how it all started.”
You named your project "We do not do rap, we make a family" What meaning does this title hold for you or for the subjects you are documenting?
VZ: That phrase was taken from one of the songs of a great friend, Pedro Mo. In a way, it was the first thing that this community of friends transmitted to me, a search for the brotherhood to build collective processes. And I was also breaking that idealism because just as collective processes break down, they are also rebuilt. And just as in the family sometimes you get away from yours, you fight, you reconcile. Despite that, it continues to evolve.
I also met a lot of rap friends who had kids. I was interested in that process of growth by being fathers and mothers and forming a family, that communion transmitted from their family nucleus to the hip hop community. That's why I think they make rap, but more than that they make a community, they make a family.
“I also met a lot of rap friends who had kids. I was interested in that process of growth by being fathers and mothers and forming a family, that communion transmitted from their family nucleus to the hip hop community. ”
In many of your environmental portraits, we can see the subjects in their homes, surrounded by other members of that community and their artistic process - something like supporting each other. What creative and socio-economic challenges facing this community do you want to expose through your photographs?
I want to show a part that is not known so much about hip-hop, which is the organization, sometimes leaving the side of "artists"and working for their collective processes. Regarding their artistic processes, I am fascinated by the fact that hip-hop is made with what is at hand, which is a way of self-management. Creating in your room a studio created with what you can afford. From using the drawer, the beatbox to make the beat, rapping at a massive event to getting on buses to communicate and generate some income. I think the cool thing is to be able to empathize with the life of a partner. They are more than rappers, they are parents, they are children, they have another profession and do things like everyone else.
What has been the biggest challenge documenting this community? Do you have any anecdotes that have put your abilities to the test?
VZ: One of the challenges has been to understand that idea of family and brotherhood by taking away the most romantic part. I’ve seen several friends who have been a family, and then over time, they have separated. Then one returns to those spaces and you see how they rebuild ties, form new projects, share processes that are being transformed. Also, you get to know a community that mostly recognizes you and we know each other, so you feel a responsibility to tell stories with which they feel identified.
““We don’t rap, we make family” That phrase was taken from one of the songs of a great friend, Pedro Mo. In a way, it was the first thing that this community of friends transmitted to me, a search for the brotherhood to build collective processes”
On the other hand, I am realizing to what extent I have to portray this move. They are communicators with their own tool that is the word and music, and many of them study audiovisual communication or other arts and explore photography, video, and audio as well. Then you come to realize that you are telling stories of people who tell stories just like you. I think the next step is to do more collaborations and work in kinds of collective laboratories. And it goes hand in hand with what is Hip-hop, which is a genre that allows collaboration in multiple ways.
You mentioned that the community also organizes cultural activities besides performances and musical presentations. What characteristics do the rap and hip hop subculture have in Peru as opposed to other subcultures?
VZ: I believe that currently there is a very narrow line between what we can consider hip-hop since it is so diverse as the music industry and part of mainstream culture. They are not just kicking rhythms that are next to some lyrics. Suddenly I see the particularities in the forms, in the music adn what is spoken in the lyrics. The hip hop that I know best explores the identity of a territory, in this case in Peru and we are a mixture of different cultures. However, I consider that the essence of hip-hop remains beyond the territory, it continues to be a collective response against what is established, a way of raising one's voice. A tool capable of reaching other arts, cultures and contributing something.
“I am fascinated by the fact that hip-hop is made with what is at hand, which is a way of self-management. Creating in your room a studio created with what you can afford. From using the drawer, the beatbox to make the beat, rapping at a massive event to getting on buses to communicate and generate some income”
Have you received support or recognition for this ongoing project?
VZ: The series is the result of my first years documenting the hip-hop community in Peru, it is part of a long-term project that is currently supported by the National Geographic Society, in which I focus on the encounter of Andean culture with hip hop culture through his oral expressions, rap, and Quechua.
“That’s why I think they make rap, but more than that they make a community, they make a family”
How has the continuity of this project been affected --- if that is the case --- in these times of pandemic? What are your future plans with this or other projects?
VZ: I think it is time to rethink how to continue producing in this project. I have felt the need to stop photographing and rather seek to produce collaboratively. As plans at least this year is to continue meeting more companions who rap in Quechua.
All right reserved ©Victor Zea
