Text by Miguel Losada
From very ancient times, Galicia has been an intensely maritime and seafaring place. The region has its own personality, derived from the very existence of its Rías, estuaries where freshwater and the Atlantic Ocean meet.
The Galician Rías are the global epitome of that unique form of the physiography of the maritime-terrestrial interface. The vernacular word in the Galician language “Ría” universally defines the geographical and geomorphological form of an estuary.
The fact that Galicia, or rather the Galliciense Regnum of early medieval European sources, was the first medieval kingdom to emerge in the Old Continent in the year 410 A.D. should not be overlooked. It was long before the dissolution of the Roman Empire. The richness and depth of Galicia’s own popular culture is proof of the long process of forging the artificial and natural elements that characterize Galicia.
This long history makes the monumentality of the Galician coastal cultural heritage difficult to convey. In order to do so, we develop, among others, an ethnographic approach. Within this approach, we understand that one of the best ways to communicate a reality as dense and complex as this is to do so with the strength and eloquence of images. Images allow us to highlight what would otherwise be less didactic and decisive, which is especially important today, as our society is presided over by the tyranny of the immediate, the consumable, and the banal.
In its capacity as a privileged symbol of Galicia and its maritime-terrestrial relationship, on this occasion, the shellfish harvesters of the Ría do Tambre or Ría de Muros y Noia will be the protagonists. These women—because for the most part these professionals are women— carry out their work at the mouth of the Tambre River; their jobs depend on the natural cycles of the tides. Their actions create an ephemeral work of art whose authenticity derives precisely from the fact that it is not a mise-en-scène but rather a truth, as observed by the viewer. In this work, Pedro G. Losada tries to capture and transmit that reality.
To try to convey the truth and beauty of their work, we consider that there is no other honest position than that which is allowed by “participant observation.”
We have considered that this selection of images could be titled “Life with water up to the neck” since that is how the shellfish harvesters work, like beneficent sirens of ambiguous waters, facing tides and dawns in an amphibious life where land and sea meet. For this reason, the photographer has worked in much the same way: submerged in the cold tide or buffeted by the wind, be it day or night; a willing and attentive follower in the footsteps of these princesses of the sea.
In Greek mythology, always wise, the fertility of the waters—and in particular that of the seas—was considered feminine. She was ruled by Tethys (Τηθύς), the Titanic consort of Oceanus, lord and Titan of the seas. Among her offspring would be the sirens, granddaughters of those Titans and daughters of the indomitable and fluvial Achelous and of Calliope, the muse of heroic eloquence. Perhaps for this reason, an ancient and visceral atavism, these shellfish harvesters, heirs to the marriage of the river and the sea, sing today to their marine heritage and to destiny, as the sirens sang to the ambiguity of life:
“Help me God of heaven, that I was born so unhappy,
in the baptismal font the salt was missing for me,
I have grief and joy, I have two evils at a time,
when grief kills me, joy gives me breath”
According to legend, before Neptune, the Roman god of freshwater and the sea, was the Royal House of the Sea Gods: Nereus and Doris. Both had many daughters, the so-called Nereids, princesses and, therefore, also divinities of the sea. From their appearance comes the figure of mermaids as female beings that are partly human and partly marine beings. During the times of Emperor Tiberius and according to Pliny, some of the Nereids could still occasionally be seen very close to the coasts. Galatea was one of those Nereids, who could, on some occasions, also have children with men. One of these children of Galatea was also the son of Heracles who, it seems, became his father on the night after the funeral held for the body of Geryon, the giant defeated by the Greek hero in the Iberian Peninsula.
From that meeting between the princess of the seas and the traveling hero Heracles, Galates was born and whose name meant The Magnificent. Endowed with prodigious qualities inherited from his ancestors, he began travelling and perfected his already great virtues, which is why he acquired enormous fame. So much so that many countries in which he had been, and in which he performed feats, preferred to be known by the name of Galates himself. This is why many nations begin their name with “Gal-” and his own native country was known since then under the name that pays tribute to him: Gallacia or Gallaecia, Galicia after all, and all the inhabitants agreed on that.
Text by Pedro G. Losada
This body of work begins to answer questions that I have about the role of environmental documentary photography to address the climate crisis we all live in. It also explores how documentary photography might take an expansive and open approach, based on in situ knowledge. This methodology is a way of capturing dominant typologies defined by relevant elements and expressions, with an understanding that value is provided by the local community. We understand heritage as a combination of interconnected goods, practices, and processes; we consider the ecological characteristics of the area; we emphasize the work done by women due to a lack of visibility, discrimination, as well as the separation of work by genders.
This project started in 2014 in the Ría de Muros y Noia as part of a proposal for an Intangible Cultural Heritage designation by UNESCO. The concept of Cultural Heritage is a social construct, dynamic, and always evolving. The most important aspects for shellfish harvesting in this estuary to achieve Cultural Herritage are the maintenance of authenticity, continuity, transmission, and creativity. The photos must be understood as visual support to the UNESCO proposal.
This body of work also aims to showcase the leadership of women who reject the barriers that limit their development, and that make the younger generation of women not relate to the work associated with the sea.
My modus operandi is to naturalize my own vision, creating an emotional map that connects me with the environment. Most of my photographs are in landscape format. They feel more natural, and they are easier to read as our vision is binocular and horizontal. At the same time, the format is familiar and facilitates horizontal exploration, revealing content as we scan with our eyes.
I like to think that the scene that we have in front of us is a visual riddle that we need to solve with our framing, by achieving balanced compositions, pleasant to the eyes and avoiding sordid aspects. I try to do this with sensitivity and affection but without sentimentality, using a documentary style and being as objective as possible toward people, objects, and landscapes.
The human figure is considered in its work environment. The photographs are the result of patience and mutual understanding. I focus on the human figure in order to develop the narrative. I am interested in the person and their place in the environment, and in society and human values. I am interested in the everyday. I avoid documenting particular events. I aim to capture authentic aspects of reality. It is a kind of testimony of the work that surrounds us and the daily happenings that create the natural rhythm of things. In the words of Jean-Paul Sartre, “every human adventure, as unique as it might seem, involves humanity as a whole.” I try to avoid toxic elements that might remove spontaneity and originality.
I want my photographs to communicate ideas and thoughts generated from their own expressive power, without layering additional concepts and meanings that might diminish their expression. I document the reality of my surroundings. I try to combine feeling with rationality, with a clear view to make things comprehensible to the viewer. I want the viewer to be touched. I want the photographs to transform those who see them.
I work in the same space where things happen, where the narrative is never linear. The only narrated story is my own, one as a spectator full of uncertainties.