Mexico Dispatch III

The reality of being somewhere new was slowly starting to set in. Day 2 is where the official part of the trip, with all its bells, whistles and agendas was set to begin.

I was excited to meet up with the gang.

Morning routines out of the way, I quickly found myself in an uber, on my way to base camp for the remainder of the trip. We are about to trade the Centro Historico bustling ambient for the more calm and residential Napoles neighborhood of CDMX.

When I got there folks had already trickled in. It was interesting to see familiar faces in a new setting. Beers&Cameras just went international baby!

We quickly filled out hotel forms, got rooms assigned and went to drop some gear heavy bags before regrouping in the lobby for a casual walk.

It’s funny how you still kinda need that icebreaker even though everyone already knows everyone. Something about shaking off the “We’re really about to spend a nice chunk of a week together aren’t we?” vibes.

The warm up lap took us to Hipodromo and Boicot Cafe. On the way there you could hear the occasional shutter click as the group was doing the equivalent of a “mic test, one two, one two”. It is how photographers build group cohesion in the wild, is what Sir David Attenborough probably would have said.

No keepers for me except a nice group shot.

With the rest of the group due shortly we wrapped it up and got back. This day was intended to be a slow one so everyone can get dialed in.

Next was a casual evening visit to Specto Galleria. Now take that casual with a pinch of salt since it turned out to be low key extraordinary.

Specto was hiding in a quiet residential block of Colonia Narvarte Poniente. Looking at its tall white walled fence you would never guess that an artists hub was on the other side of the gate.

We walked in ready to enjoy some art and good beer with our hosts. What I wasn’t ready for that night was to have my whole world turned upside down.

Making your way in past the small storefront, where you can top off on film or drop rolls to get developed, you immediately got hit with an unmistakable ambiance. The light, the atmosphere, the way sound carries through. It all unequivocally said one thing. Art lives here.

A space that once was a house, masterfully repurposed to serve as a showroom for one of the best parts of the human soul. Beautiful images tastefully and creatively adorned the walls. We were like children in a confectionery. Chatter quickly spread as our gazes flocked from piece to piece.

The story they were telling was very clear but somehow magical, almost surreal. Great expanses of water. A small boat. People’s lives on that small boat.

Two immediately grabbed my attention. I looked in admiration but something in me struggled to make sense of it. What a beautiful feeling of confusion stirred by something that at first glance should have been mundane. I was intrigued!

The first one was a big piece that looked like it was hung just slightly crooked. It didn’t feel crooked but clearly it was. As if looking through a tilted window, but the world it showed was, as you’d expect, normal and level.

Depicted in it was that small boat in a big moody ocean next to a grand transport vessel. It gave an overwhelming sense of being small, dangerously so, and yet defiantly safe. I felt like I was looking at a dreamscape. I knew the feeling that came over me, it was not foreign in the slightest. How could that be?

How could I resonate so much with this piece I have never seen before, by a person I have never met before? I have been there myself, I am willing to bet that you have been there too. Cozy, warm, protected while the world outside is throwing a fit. Like being under your blanket during a thunderstorm, or in a car during a downpour. Like a hatchling under a wing.

“It looks as if the artist intentionally took the photo like that, like they planned on hanging it off-kilter. That would make for some amazing foresight!” - I thought out loud.

“Good eye! That is indeed what Diego wanted to do with that image” - a voice from behind me clicked.

That was Mariana, her and Diego were our hosts for the night, the faces behind Specto.

Her confirmation of what I sensed made the piece even better. It was not happenstance, it was intention. Deliberate planning, considering the presentation at its inception. Deus like.

With the hair on my neck still standing from that exchange, I moved on. I immediately landed on another image that shared that same dreamscape quality, but beneath the haze of emotion, this one was a masterclass in execution.

It was a dynamic scene: the photographer was now on the little boat, cutting through a foamy wave washing over the deck. Another person was in the frame, jumping in anticipation of the crash.

I was blown away.

I started dissecting the technique with the group, flabbergasted by the composure needed to be there, in those conditions, and still pull off a sharp well framed image. It was so good I started questioning my own existence as a photographer. Maybe I should hang up my camera and pick up something easier. Like painting. (Stick figures count too right?)

I was in awe.

My eyes were glued to the print. I couldn’t understand how one does that. What does it take? The thought of catching a wave wrong and ending up lost at sea… for a photo. I could not fathom how one processes all the sensory inputs this moment throws at a person.

Do not die. But take the shot. Nail the exposure. Nail focus. Make it good. But stay alive.

I stood there staring at it. Mind wrestling with all that went into freezing that moment forever. Whatever it was, it was 100% worth it. I would need multiple lifetimes to pull off something close to this, and I know my craft. What else is there to say except, Bra-vo!

Still mildly aware of my surroundings, I tuned in on Joe’s voice coming from somewhere out of sight.

“So you generated it all? What did you use? It looks amazing!”

“Midjourney” - a male voice responded.

My brain went blank.

You know when they shut off the music and turn on the lights at the club? When all of a sudden you see everyone around you and their stupid faces thinking they look cool? And then you realize you are one of those faces too?

Yeah.

In a flash Dave Chappelle popped out of nowhere and yelled:

“Gotcha Bitch!”

I was shell-shocked. My ears were buzzing, the earth was shaking and I couldn’t see.

Motherf^#$@*%!!!! - the only word on my mind at that point.

I staggered away from the “art” I was admiring.

Mariana approached it and asked the others:

“What do you see? There is something in this image that is not quite right.”

Oh, you want to know what’s not right? How about no camera can take that photo. No person should be that careless and walk away with a shot like that. Where’s the spray on the lens? Did he just pull it out of a magical bag shot it and got it, just like that? Also that lady jumping on the boat would be on a milk carton a few seconds after it was “taken”. No fence, no life vest, no tether. She’s a goner for sure!

I was angry.

I felt bamboozled.

I was this close to yelling “I call shenanigans! Warm the tar, get the feathers!”

I swear, I took it better when I found out Santa wasn’t real.

I wanted to pull out a glove and slap Diego across the face. The charlatan!

Took me a moment to cool off and regain control over my mind and my face, which had my disappointment and sour cynicism on full display.

Mariana continued:

“As you can see, the person in the image has one distorted foot coming off two legs.”

Motherf^#$@*%!!!!

The punches keep coming. Kick a man while he’s down eh?!

I was staring at it moments ago, analyzing the “technique”, what aperture was used? What shutter speed? And all along the damned “lady” had one conjoined mega foot connecting to both legs.

I fell for friggin digital Munchausen over here.

The shock was shared by all. We got swindled. Big time.

As the dust settled, we started poking and probing the artist for more info which he very happily shared. We were all interested what could possibly possess him to stoop so low. Diego took the stage.

“When I was a kid, I spent a number of months on a boat sailing with my mother. I was very young. I don’t have many photos, but I have a deep feeling of it all…..”

He went on to explain how he got his first camera from his grandfather, and that eventually led him to a career in photography. He fell in love with the art as well as the craft of it. He liked making memories tangible, something you can hold, cherish and keep forever. Unfortunately, he did not have many physical mementoes from his childhood. What he did have were the feelings of what it was like. He had hazy, dreamlike snippets in the oldest vaults of his mind. A sense of calmness, adventure and safety, brought on by a smell, a sight of something, an uttered word…. sounds familiar right?

He decided to recreate, in great detail, everything he had locked up in there. It took him a long time and a lot of work on mastering prompts and building his models to get to where it started to finally take shape. He poured the essence of his childhood, as he remembered it, into the AI model of his choice, the partner in this “crime against art”, Midjourney.

He had the “receipts” to prove it too.

Drafts upon drafts of almost obsessive shaping of what a feeling was like. He did deep research into the type of boat they were on. What was on it, who made the windows, did it have a fridge, what were the bathrooms like? He found it all and used it to bring to life what he remembered. At some point, growing as the project grew, he realized that he didn’t want to make the final art realistic. Instead, he opted to keep it grand and magical, like it was for the child that experienced it. That meant to include surreal scenes that objectively do not exist, but subjectively were all to real to Diego the young boy.

He showed us everything he had made. We listened to AI generated period accurate commercials for the model of boat he was on. They sounded real. Impressively so. The floor of the gallery had blue tape on it. It was marking the footprint of the boats deck and the space that it would occupy, so visitors can get a sense of how big, or rather small, it was. And it did a great job pulling you into his world and wondering how they lived on it for so long.

It all suddenly went from an abomination, to a heartwarming story of a grown man, moved to recreate and use any tool available to preserve the childhood memories he yearns for and is afraid he may one day lose.

As a lifelong cinephile, I often judge movies by how easy it is to predict them. Most are too easy, a third in and it is already clear who, where and why. To a point it has become boring and joyless. At the same time, when I happen upon a windy twisty one, that challenges me, all of the lost joy is paid back trifold. Diego wrote a masterful script that played out in a way I could never have predicted. My friend, I reinstate all the praise heaped upon your work earlier and add more.

This is true art!

Intentionality in every aspect of it, guided by emotion, in pursuit of the human experience.

This is the type of contemporary, interpretive art I am fully on board with!

At this point, emotions settled, artist vindicated, we broke out the beer. Cold beverages in hand we continued exploring Specto.

I wish I could go on and on about all the magic they harbored behind their gates, but I’m afraid I have already gone on way too long. I will say that I was again gobsmacked when I saw Mariana’s work on an upcoming long term project chronicling the life of circus performers and their families. She was in the final stages of selecting and making prints for an upcoming show. Peeking behind the curtains to see the process was such a treat! One of her selections, an intimate moment of two children of the performers in their mobile home, had been printed in almost life size dimensions directly on a huge wall, by a robot. Very cool!

We wrapped our visit up with a good old fashioned print swap.

I couldn’t resist and I bought a print of the photo that started it all, the crooked image of the tiny boat next to the tanker. Diego kindly inscribed it and signed it. It will be framed and crookedly hung on my wall, as a memento of this marvelous visit.

Utterly fulfilled we had one last stop to make before hitting the hay.

Food!

On the way back, we found this little stand next to a park, aptly named Hamburguesas El Parque.

It didn’t look like much. Frankly I even doubt it would pass a health inspection. But boy did it smell right!

It was greasy, it was cheap, and oho man was it good! Reminded me of this little joint, same in spirit, that me and my friends frequented in lue of school lunches during elementary school (you will not be forgotten “Nesta”).

A delicious burger and memory of my own childhood in hand it was the perfect ending to another memorable day in Mexico City.

PS. As I am writing this and re-experiencing Specto I realize, you know what else tilts and has windows? A boat, riding on a wave. Just like Diego’s prints. Genius!