The paths of Carlota Nelson and Cristina García Rodero crossed for the first time at the Burning Man arts festival in 2001, in the middle of a sandstorm in the Nevada desert. On the way to the camp, the documentary filmmaker noticed a small woman who was trying to take refuge by crouching on the ground and encouraged her to come with her and her team. The Spanish photographer had lost her bicycle, with which she moved around the festival, and she reluctantly accepted because what she wanted was to continue capturing images with her camera. "When she told me her name, I couldn't believe it and I hugged her," Nelson, a great admirer of García Rodero since he published Spain Occult in 1989, told La Vanguardia, the fundamental book of Spanish photography that testifies to his ambition to document the traditions and customs of the country for 15 years.
The two became friends and, when Nelson released Anclados in 2010, they celebrated and García Rodero asked him about his next project. "I told her that I would love to make a documentary about her, because people had to know her work and how she works, but I got a tremendous fight from her because she assured me that her work is behind the camera and that it was going to be a ridiculous," he recalls. "But I think she saw me with such a sad face that in the end she agreed because she knew I was excited about her."
Nine years later they started filming and then the pandemic arrived - "this documentary was destined not to exist" - until last Friday Cristina García Rodero finally premiered: The Hidden Look, the portrait of a "very kind, humble, generous" woman and fiercely independent who lives oblivious to fame and protagonism", despite being, since 2005, the first Spanish photographer to be part of the prestigious Magnum agency.
Nelson's camera follows this intrepid 74-year-old woman through different places, from Spain to India with her voice as a common thread in a story conceived as a road movie. "We went with our tongues hanging out because she works at a dizzying pace and since she is so small she gets lost easily," says the director, who adapted to García Rodero's agenda with the aim of showing the public "the effort that goes into making a photo".
The sweet voice of this veteran professional really contrasts with the inexhaustible energy that a body that is pure vitality exudes, although she is aware that "I am leaving life behind," referring to that "dictatorship of time that I hate" and she regrets that she has had few opportunities to dance, "one of the things I like the most."
For her, making this documentary has been "a suffering because I felt like I had to take care of everything when I have always been free and there is nothing more beautiful than freedom. Feeling watched is always annoying. I have been behind the camera for 50 years and being front has nothing to do with me. I have never felt like I was the protagonist of anything," admits this flirtatious and adventurous woman whose life changed suddenly when in 1973 she obtained the March Foundation scholarship thanks to which she began to immortalize with a glance curious and sensitive the traditions of Spain in a photobook that has long been out of print but will be reissued next spring. "Hidden Spain had a very big impact, but what I want is for other works of mine to be known more," says García Rodero during his visit to Barcelona to promote the documentary.
She, who only shoots moved by emotions, needs to be close to what her camera captures on both a psychological and physical level. And this is how she has conceived her long career, allowing herself to be surprised and looking with the eyes of a little girl. Because her passion for her camera was born "as a game because she saw that my father with a very small object captured the happy moments and I did the same as him."
With the money he won in the lottery he bought his first camera and later, at 20, he dedicated himself as an amateur "with artistic desires", but he never thought that it would take him away from his vocation of painting. Until the scholarship arrived and he discovered the popular festivals and insisted on spreading them with the click of a button. "I was discovering Spain and myself... the hospitality of the people. They almost kidnapped you so that you could try the chorizo they had made in the slaughter. I was a stranger and they entertained me." And she did it traveling alone, "without a master", with much sacrifice and lack of means.
After so much time observing the Spanish, García Rodero describes them as "vital, optimistic and joyful. They are also chaotic, understandable and sometimes they make you desperate. We are very unserious." Regarding the qualities to be a good photographer, he talks about the "need to be curious and feel close to people." In the documentary he adds that he must be "disobedient and not be afraid," even though García Rodero has faced dangerous situations many times, such as those he experienced in Kosovo. "I think I'm a little unconscious. I've seen people die and I didn't want to see anyone die," which is why he has turned to images of parties "where you see people happy."
However, so much stress and absolute dedication to his profession has taken its toll on him: "My body exploded wherever it could, which is due to the thyroid and it caused another illness that caused my orbits to swell and it seemed like they were going to come out." "I still see double but I didn't lose sight and even in the worst moments I continued taking photos," says the 1996 National Photography Prize winner and until 2007 a professor at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Madrid.
García Rodero regrets the "invasion" that there is now with so many photographers at the parties. "Before they were despised because they were associated with oblivion, with the people, with the stench of the dictatorship and the church, but the moment the autonomies were made everything changed and they had to be strengthened and lived. Some have died, although the majority have been revitalized, especially thanks to the participation of women, who have contributed beauty, art and grace," she maintains.
She plans to continue attending those parties "that are not uncomfortable" and knows that she will no longer be able to go to other places, such as India, "because the participation is massive and I am afraid of a stampede," she comments after having shared avalanches where there have been dead. At her age, she hopes that "life will give me surprises" and she confesses that "I will only stop taking photos the day I stop getting excited."
He has an impressive schedule and doesn't stop going from here to there. Among his next projects is visiting Mexico next week to give a conference and enjoy the dances. "My hope for a good job doesn't make me throw in the towel. I always keep the positive and forget the negative to continue drawing energy and have the strength to return."
