Grandfather In Chacra, 23 days © Diana Guerra
Diana Guerra uses a 19th century photographic process as a meditation on the impermanence of cultural memory.
“When it comes to crossing borders,” writes Diana Guerra, “there is a transformation process that goes beyond one’s identity, and rather involves new understandings of family and our homelands.” For Guerra, a NYC-based photographer whose family lives in Peru, identity dissolves into traces of family, the people who presently surround us, and the landscapes we leave behind.
Fleeting Under Light, her ongoing series of photographic anthrotypes memorializes her cultural identity as it shifts and fades. Within the process, – invented in 1842 by Mary Sommerville using photosensitive materials created from plants – Guerra uses Peruvian purple corn as traces of her heritage and cultural ephemera.
Beyond this technical process, Guerra’s photographs were taken in New York City where she now lives, and two regions of Peru: La Arena and Lima. These include a range of subjects, from pictures of family members, a self portrait, and an unintentional homage to The Last Supper. Guerra's images are a visual memoir to diasporic impermanence, which she describes as “vapor that leaves the ground, or that never settles.”
We speak about her process, her history, and how it all weaves together.
Jon Feinstein in conversation with Diana Guerra
Mototaxi On The Beach, 17 days. © Diana Guerra
Jon Feinstein: What was the first image you made for this series?
Diane Guerra: I have to start saying that I have terrible memory and it’s paradoxical because this project it’s about memory itself. I recall being in one of my trips to Peru and visiting a group of women weavers in Cusco who use natural dyes in their textiles. I didn’t make any connection at that point or thought of a photographic project per se. I honestly just felt connected to the idea of a flower or an insect becoming color.
Back in New York, I kept thinking about the organic dyes and imagining how could I merge this with my photographic practice. Was that even possible?! Of course it was and, after some research, I discovered anthotypes, which are images created with organic photosensitive materials.
I already had a connection to corn since my family in the north cultivates it in the fields, and I ordered a lot of Peruvian purple corn online. The first image I printed was “Mototaxi On The Beach, 17 days”.
Familia in Magdalena, 23 days. © Diana Guerra
Feinstein: How did it develop from an idea and experiment into a full fledged project?
Guerra: At the beginning it was more of an experiment. It was mind blowing for me to print photographs using only corn and the sun! There wasn’t a conceptual background at that point and I think it’s the reason why I started printing a photograph that gives little information about myself. The project evolved, however, in a way that it became more intimate and made me reflect on my identity as well.
Feinstein: Tell me more about the title "Fleeting under light…”
Guerra: I was reading about materiality in photography and I found a phrase by Sally Mann when she talks about digital image-making.
“The digital image is like ether, like vapor that never comes to ground. It simply circulates, bodiless. It has no material reality.“
It made me stop because I sensed a similar dynamic but with this analog technique. To make these prints, I have to let them dry under the sun for the color to fade and for the image to appear. But after the images are done printing, they can’t receive direct sunlight or the whole photograph will fade. My photographs are currently stored in black boxes or sleeves, and not even that stops them from transforming and fading. I recently checked the first ones I made and their color isn’t purple anymore but has turned orange instead.
You have to be patient with the sun, the same way my family waits for the corn to dry when it’s set outside. The process itself has become a way to slow down in New York and to understand that there is a limit to my control as a photographer, artist and human. Sometimes it takes more time to print depending on the season, sometimes the image comes out foggier or, the opposite, it has more details. But in all cases, they will fade, so acceptance has been key throughout the process.
Feinstein: You include one image that is literally a self-portrait, but this entire series is an exploration of self/ identity. Would you consider the entire body of work an extension of self-portraiture?
Guerra: This question makes me shiver! “Fleeting Under Light” is such an intimate project and I think your question goes straight to the point here. The last anthotype I made, the self-portrait, felt like a culmination at first. I was saying: “OK, this is it, this is me, look at it.” But instead of a completion, it has become more of a key to resolve the project as a whole and to tackle what constitutes someone’s identity, which is clearly more than a face looking straight at the camera. In this project, I am the arid landscape of the Peruvian north, I am my cousins, my grandfather and my mother. Yet, I am also all of that in transformation.
This Will Also Fade, 27 days (self-portrait) © Diana Guerra
Feinstein: I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately - I see a kinship, conceptually, between your work and some of Rafael Soldi's work. Beyond your shared Peruvian heritage, related issues of placehood and diaspora come up in each of your work. This idea of what one leaves behind thru immigration, the fading ghosts of culture….
I feel flattered that you can see a conceptual similarity between our projects, because I love Rafael’s work and the careful way he approaches themes like immigration. I do find some common points and I would start with the use of photography as a ritual or cultural practice. It’s touching to see Rafael’s self-portraits from the project “Imagined Futures,” which he took in an enclosed space similar to a Catholic confessional.
Rafael Soldi’s Imagined Futures
Feinstein: The process itself is a big part for each of you…
Guerra: The process of making the photographs becomes a big part of the work. It’s an act of reclamation, where this private act is re-contextualized through photographic practice. I want to believe that the process also becomes prominent in “Fleeting Under Light”, and that printing in New York while using an organic photo technique with Peruvian goods supports the conceptual part of the project.
In the same way, how Rafael’s photographs were made is as relevant as what we can’t see in the image. We see Rafael’s face in front of the camera several times, however it’s impossible to tell what future he’s imagining, not even his eyes are open! I think something similar happens with my self-portrait as well. These portraits go beyond our bodies and, instead, focus on our memories and imagination as immigrants and Latinx living in the US.
Outside my aunt’s house, 17 days. © Diana Guerra
Feinstein: Can you elaborate a bit on your family history and how it plays out in this work?
I was born and raised in Lima where my father grew up, along with a heavy influence of American white culture. My mother, on the other hand, was an immigrant who left her rural town in the north to find better opportunities in the city. Because of the physical distance between these cities and, what I believe was racism towards my mother’s side of the family, I had a weak relationship with them while growing up.
Feinstein: How has making this work helped you process your own identity, family history and relationships, etc?
Guerra: Moving to New York, made me grow a stronger relationship with my mother and with my family on that side. In 2018, I planned a special trip to photograph my family while studying at Parsons School of Design. I received a grant from the school and, luckily, I could afford the costs to travel and photograph them.
My family was very excited to have me back after a long time and to participate in the photographs. So in that sense, this project has been cathartic. It allowed me to rediscover a new identity in the diaspora and to strengthen family ties that were too loose while growing up. I truly believe that without this project the relationship I have with them couldn’t have developed this way.
Whatsapp Message, 37 days © Diana Guerra
Feinstein: Let’s go back a. bit into your process. You touch on this when we were talking about Rafael, but I want to dig a bit more into how it relates to the issues you’re working through with this work…
Guerra: Answering the last question made me think about the decision of using an alternative organic process. I really wanted to get as close to my roots as I could. I was far from Peru so I couldn’t photograph my family members or the Peruvian landscape anymore.
And this is when food became a channel to get closer to them. Purple corn is always present in our kitchens and is commonly used to make drinks and desserts. Fortunately, I could order it in the US and it became a tool to reinterpret the relationship with my homeland from afar.
I also think I was responding against a tech-focused Western photographic tradition. This is without saying that anthotypes aren’t a technology per se, because making them involves many precise steps and plenty of time. But I didn’t feel like gelatin silver prints or anything digital, for example, could achieve what I was trying to say, or that this technology was connected to how I felt about the imagery. There was a lot of intuition in the process and I appreciate that the photographic medium has been as open and malleable as it is.
Feinstein: I keep thinking about your image “Cousins At The Table. I imagine there is much more to it, but I immediately conjured a “Last Supper” reference… am I off base?
Guerra: It is true! I didn’t see that while directing my cousins for the photograph, but it happened later, when I was making the print. A lot of families keep a painting or print of the Last Supper above our dinning tables in Peru.
My family certainly had one of those, so I basically grew up staring at that image while eating at the table. It’s a symbol of family and union, but at the same time it’s a scene performed for the viewer. It’s really fascinating how images influence the way we see the world and how we recreate it. I can definitely find other references of my Catholic background in my visual work, even though I’m not Catholic anymore. And I believe it’s because some images and cultural practices stay impregnated in us and they come out in our work randomly. Sometimes it feels like magic.
Cousins At The Table, 15 days. © Diana Guerra
Feinstein: This is a work is in progress, at a somewhat early stage…How do you see it evolving/ where do you feel it needs to go to say what you want?
Guerra: Where does it end? Sounds very simple but it’s complex for me, especially when this project is about memory, identity and transformation. I honestly think that it will never end, or at least with the information that I have right now, it doesn’t seem to end. Does that mean that I’ll keep making these anthotypes until I die? Not necessarily, but I like keeping that door open in case I feel I have to go back to it.
Feinstein: Totally. I feel like so many projects, especially ones that are this personal, need that open door…
Guerra: In terms of where this project could go, I’m thinking about the imagery and the materials I can explore. Until now, the photographs that I’ve used have been focused on my Peruvian family going from archival materials to photographing my family and myself recently. I’d like to keep an open mind about the sources where these images can potentially come from, especially since the relationship I have with my homeland is heavily based on text messaging. Because I’m not physically present, I constantly question how much of this project has to be actively shot on my side. There is a strong flow of images that I receive while communicating with my family that I think can become part of the project as well.