Traces of Identity

Face

For the person who makes a self-portrait, the face is the recognition that's not seen. The "I" searches for traces of itself: thought earlier portraits, in mirrors, or in faces that resemble it, family faces. Through empathy, the child responds to the mother's smile; imitating her gesture, the child interprets the face of the person close at hand. Through empathy, when we take someone's picture, we project our own physiognomy onto their faces.

Every time I've photographed other faces they've seemed similar to mine; this was an accidental discovery, not something I searched for, and now I have proposed to take it as my theme. I cannot photograph my face because I can't see my face. I have to resort to the traces of the others: I look al myself in the pictures others have made of me, in the mirror, or in the faces of others.

Two elements define the identity of a face: the features and gestures.

These elements are interrelated: the movement involved in the gesture modifies the form of the features, and the features, in turn, limit the possible movements and gestures, which are summed up or reduced to the instant by the photograph.

Trace: the shadow in our dark side 1993

The face offered to the portraits communicates, constructs its own self by itself, transmits identity. In contrast, the face that confronts the camera as an object (photographing itself, or submitting to the picture taken in an automatic booth) pays no attention to itself, but to the mechanism.

Sex: The change of seasons affects us 1993

OBJECT

I define my identity through objects, though my relationship with them: I choose them (I collect things that I find on the ground along the route I take daily, several times a day, on the way from my house to the laboratory where I develop my photographs). They project their meaning onto me. These things are without value, object converted into "materials" that are rescued by the fact that I chose them. Photographing them and including them in the context of my self-portrait allows me to see them in another way.

Face: We do not recognize our tracks, 1993

THE HAND

By showing our hand we show our identifying signs. Unlike my face, my hand is visible to me. However, I don't recognize its signs, authentic proof of identity. The palm of my hand joins together the signs of my identity and the signs of the passage of time.

I show the things I've collected with my hand, and the hands, in turn, are shown as objects (the hand, deprived of motion, showing itself). Removed from their usual context, they acquire a symbolic value. Placed in a familiar setting, they become part of a concrete situation.

Place of our birth: The dream is what we see with eyes closed, 1993

DARKNESS

Black space represents the invisible (in the theater, whatever the spectators are not supposed to see is painted black).

In my self-portraits, the background area is the area without any sign, not imprinted. The background, even though non-existent, acquires weight.

Darkness creates closed spaces. It turns photography into a setting where a unique situation is revealed.

APERTURE
OPTICAL ALLUSIONS: NEW PERSPECTIVES IN SPANISH PHOTOGRAPHY
NUMBER ONE HUNDRED FIFTY-TIVE SPRING1999

Self-portrait through the Narciso's eyes 1994

Project in the prison of Carabanchel.