Adolfo Vera

Yesterday, I was asked to provide a short introduction about myself.

For a long time now, I have expressed myself by working with photography, artefacts and other found material. I cannot claim my artistic career to have been linear, or that my artistic production will continue indefinitely. What I can say is that my work stems from impulse and the feelings in the face of our different realities.  The realities we see as absolute may be personal or general.

I am also interested in questioning our established order, in other words to break these cultural conventions as I seek a more unconventional viewpoint. And as the themes of my work vary, my approach to them also changes.

Here, I have summed up my ideas to crystallize our unique era which has not left us any other choice but to act. Or what do you think?

Adolfo Vera

Adolfo Vera: Europe, 2015, 4 photographs from the series;
Milosevic, Cortés, Himmler and Caligula. (Photo: Timo Nieminen.)


I had several reasons to...

I had several reasons to photograph.
To have remembrances of lives as the end approaches.
Old age and loneliness.
My personal relationship with society. And mental violence.

To photograph, how natural!
To get pictures of my days.
Of what was, how I sow it.
A reminder of where I come from and who I am.
Like a token of love.
Love for the course of life. Love of life.

Then again, is that what this is about?
Or is it about working through my own problems?

Interpersonal relationships, problems of culture,
problems of conscience…
It feels like that's what it is. Unattended by close relationships.
Surrounded by visitors, strangers.
Not appreciating what is. Ambition impedes seeing.
Feeling. Loving.
The situation, a consequence of the yesterday.
The felt presence of absence. The remoteness of love.
The residues of the problems that prevented a good bond.
An empty space. A void of understanding.

Or is it about working through my problems after all?
About finding resolution?
But photography doesn't settle things. It brings up.
Attests. And prolongs the pain.

Is that how it is?
Maybe it's a question of reflecting life.

A reminder of life's violence.
Between us and them, me and you.
The violence we all use. Day by day. Moment by moment.
Forever and ever.
The violence of a glance. Of words, looks and deeds.
The violence of power.
The violence that is not seen, but sensed.

Violence that turns to loathing. A loathing towards life.
The violence felt as the sun's first rays break upon the skin.
The violence that forces one to submit to the course of time.
The helplessness in front the darkness.

The violence we all use. Over and over.

I had several reasons to

Adolfo Vera, 2011

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