Expressions can be revealing, but they can be deceptive too... But an experienced photographic investigator can never be misled... Because she knows the difference between investigating and interpreting... An investigation must always be conducted without expectations and without preconceived ideas about the subject... a good investigation is like the very first investigation... one can never know where it will lead. This way, the very notion of misleading a photographic investigator is automatically "self-cancelled".
She was a Woman Without a Face and my only clue was: "Follow the rings" -whatever that meant. Of course, as soon as I located her, I knew... She could change her face no more than 3 times in 24 hours. And every time she had to use one of the 3 rings she wore. She could acquire one more ring -after a series of trials and rites i don't want to know nothing about- and that would place her at the top of the hierarchy of her kind, which was a very big deal. I guess that's why I was chosen to photographically investigate her. It was the eve of her great "test". I wholeheartedly hoped that she survived it...
Mister Minimal was Il Mister's twin brother and earned his living as a minimalist photography model. He was famous for posing with a camera and one day, because he was so tired of just hold this heavy thing, he started to shoot as well -just to see what happens. It was a revelation. He was so good that he left his job as a model and moved to Rio, where his photography was very popular. He originally wanted to go to New York, but Il Mister was there, pretending to play tennis in the Central Park Tennis Club. It was common knowledge that Mister Minimal couldn't stand In Mister... My investigation took place just before his career as a photographer sky rocketed and I am proud to say that I encouraged him significantly... a photographic investigator can see the hidden talents of his subjects before anyone else can...
After I exposed her she assumed another identity. So, Jackie O'Can became La Regina (The Queen). She also had to remove her secret weapon, the state of the art microchip she had in her eye. But La Regina was still a valuable asset of Il Mister's secret circle in Venice, so this time she posed as an even more influential personality, a movie star. Establishing her "past" didn't take more than six months. Suddenly, all the cinema magazines featured her in their cover and she monopolised the international online entertainment media... Everybody knew la Regina and they felt as if they have known her all of their lives, although just a tiny doubt would be enough to make the illusion disappear. But the Mister's circle had long ago achieved a mastery in manipulating the people's minds, so nobody took the trouble to doubt... Her next movie was due in September and it was easy for me to approach her pretending to be a photo reporter (a risky choice, since they are very close to extinction...). And the rest was... kismet... She had been investigated and she had loved it...
My investigation ended because of a misunderstanding that happened in Thailand. They were expecting James Bond and Signore Bon was desperately seeking refuge. You see, he also was a spy, but a coffee spy. He was ruthlessly hunted down by a demented coffee lord in Guatemala because he had stolen the secret of the most expensive coffee in the world. For years he managed to successfully hide his identity posing as a gondolier and a photographer in Venice. That's where I investigated him. I was working for a woman that was willing to pay me his weight in gold in order to get her hands on that coffee secret. And she wanted to keep him alive, which was very important to me - "live and keep them alive" was my moto... It all went well - or so I though. And just when I was sure he had fallen into my trap, il Signore Bon disappeared. I looked for him in vain. I even solicited the help of powerful underground characters of Venice like El Guapo, Il Mister and La Regina that had been my subjects in the past. Nothing. And then, one morning, I received a post card from Thailand. All it said was: "My name is Bon. Signore Bon". Intuitively, I opened the TV. In Thailand they were celebrating Mister Bond's arrival... I knew it was him. I packed my suitcase and went to the vaporetto station. And then I realised I was being watched. I knew it was too risky to ask for El Guapo and il Mister's help... It was obvious I could not follow Signore Bon to Thailand. A photographic investigator has to be faithful to her principles... "Live and keep them alive"... remember? Fortunately my client had payed me a generous amount in advance and I had already explained to her the risks of my profession. I headed to the airport anyway. In my iPod Christina Train was singing "I wanna live in LA"... Why not? I thought... LA it was then... and after a few months maybe Hilo, Hawaii... I always loved that place...
She was my biggest rival's secretary. That meant that she knew all his secrets. The truth is he wasn't really a rival... more of a rival wannabe... I don't have rivals. But I had a difficult assignment and my subject was missing in action... He knew all about her, so I thought it would be easier to investigate his secretary. The secretary is a most important character in a situation where a photographic investigator is involved... like in a film noir. Needless to say, I don't have one. My faithful helpers, Juanita and Lupe do the job. But again, they can't be investigated by my "rivals"... they are cats. I watched one of my favourite film noir movies, The Dark Corner, for inspiration. Lusille Ball was playing the investigator's secretary.
The job totally depended on it… He pretended to be a performer and the only way to investigate him was to pretend I was a celebrity photographer. It always works. But to do so, I needed sunlight coming through a window before sunset that particular evening. So it all depended on the weather in London that day, because that's where my photographic investigation was taking place. When I saw the clouds parting I knew no force in the 'verse could stop this investigation. The weather in London was agreeing with my intentions... and for that to happen, they just couldn't have been my intentions… I just thought they were. That reassured me even more.
Her name wasn't Lola and she wasn't a show girl... But an assignment that sends you to Brazil is always welcome. Isabel was an anthropologist who worked as a lifeguard in Copacabana... While I was investigating, the group Ordinarius was performing live their wonderful version of "Agua de Beber" and a salty breeze from the ocean was advising me not to start investigating before drinking my caipirinha.... When a sea breeze advises, I always listen...
I was hired to investigate a strange love exhaling group in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It's members were practising love exhaling exercises, under the pretext of the widely encouraged act of smoking. Smoking was cool and "safe" whereas acts of love weren't. The method consisted in inhaling all the pain and misery and the dark shades of the world -or of the surrounding environment- visualising them transforming into light and exhaling then as pure love (although in the eyes of many it looked just like exhaling smoke). One of my favourite assignments, since I love learning new skills while photographically investigating… Which reminds me… I have to go practise my exercises now…
Life is a good mexican telenovela. I know, because I love them. So I can't help but noticing that it is based on the same fundamental rules: 1. truth always reveals itself 2. nobody is absolutely without a heart 3. desires come true but are never what you expected them to be 4. obsessions drain your energy so that you will almost certainly need a plastic surgery before the telenovela ends (if it's a long one) 5. beauty opens all the doors 6. in the end, balance is restored 7. it's not real, it's just actors, costumes, a play and a director. Having shared this revelation with you, I'll go back watching Ramona, a great mexican telenovela from the late 90's starring Eduardo Palomo (R.I.P. our beloved Eduardo…). Even the most impartial and dedicated to observation photographic investigator has her soft spots… (Another telenovela characteristic: even though you are just a watcher, you feel affection for the characters. Ramona makes me cry.)
The cherry trees were in full bloom and beautiful sakura -cherry blossoms- was all that the eye could see. The sakura omnipresence was so real that it became surreal. My assignment had brought me to Kyoto and my subject was Maria, a fellow investigator who lived there incognito for the last 10 years. In any other place I would have recognised her by her zen energy and poise, but in Kyoto I had to look for the Woman Who Drinks Cappuccino. She was the only one - I am immencely grateful to my loyal helpers Juanita and Lupe, who never fail to provide me with smart clues in order to find my subjects quickly and painfully. By then, I was at the end of a long cycle of investigations and I was really tired… I was thinking that maybe my work was over and my greatest desire was to leave. I met her while the beautiful sound of the traditional Sakura was filling my ears and it was the only music I wished to hear. A strange thought passed through my mind: all I could see and hear was sakura… if only I could speak it too… I opened my mouth and spoke incessantly for 7 hours. Was I saying my last goodbye to my subjects through the painful dance of my vocal chords? (A mexican brujo fellow photographic investigator had once said to me that a warrior investigator always performs a magnificent dance at the end.) I don't really know, I wasn't thinking, just speaking. I knew she was there to investigate me and i was confident she would not be able to… Not with her camera anyway. An experienced photographic investigator knows how to keep her secrets. The only way she could outsmart me was if she carried a tape recorder… Did she? If she did, I would come back only to find out if indeed there was sakura in my speech...
A just love Noel Coward's song... Sometimes it's hard to say if an investigation is adjusting itself to the music or the music to the investigation. Just another of those things that a photographic investigator must find out by herself. That's why she travels alone.
All along this particular photographic investigation, the words from ELO's "Secret messages" were playing again and again in my head: "Those secret messages that spill Into the air from far away, So far away, A flowing river of illusion, Running with confusion, Never gone - it goes on and on.The secret messages are calling to me endlessly, They call to me across the air, The messages across the atmosphere They whisper in your ear, they're calling everywhere".
A crazy wind was blowing from the South East and everybody knew this meant trouble. In addition to the bad omens of this morning, the wind brought with it too much african dust and the atmosphere was otherworldly… It was also the beginning of spring and the person I was supposed to investigate was suffering from spring allergies. As a photographic investigator, I hate it when my subjects suffer, but I must admit that intense situations make my investigation more effective. A sneeze says more that you can imagine about a person, believe me…
"I never saw her in the daytime. We seemed to live by night. What was left of the day went away like a pack of cigarettes you smoked. I didn't know where she lived. I never followed her. All I ever had to go on was a place and time to see her again. I don't know what we were waiting for. Maybe we thought the world would end. Maybe we thought it was a dream and we'd wake up with a hangover in Niagara Falls. I wired Whit but I didn't tell him. 'I'm in Acapulco,' I said. 'I wish you were here.' And every night I went to meet her. How did I know she'd ever show up? I didn't. What stopped her from taking a boat to Chile or Guatemala? Nothing. How big a chump can you get to be? I was finding out. And then she'd come along like school was out, and everything else was just a stone which sailed at the sea". Scenes from one of the best film noir ever made, Jaques Tourneur's 1947 "Out of the Past" were flashing inside my head while I was investigating this "embarrassingly beautiful woman" -to quote one of "Il Mister"'s (my most famous subject) favourite expressions... This time I could not risk the slightest hint about the place or the reasons concerning this photographic investigation, it was too dangerous. But the narration of Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum) about his femme fatale Kathie (Jane Greer) seemed most appropriate...
...I must say I always have loved the "liberation point". The moment when the illusion collapses. Not only because it gives equally good investigative portraits, but because it's most promising: who knows? If one illusion collapses today, maybe another one, more important will collapse tomorrow. Something to meditate on…
I felt a little like one… Of course my mission was completely different -and I wasn't Deckard, although she looked a lot like Rachael… I had to follow her from Paris to the little island of Giudeca, in Venice. She was beautiful and she looked slightly sad and very innocent, but I didn't feel guilty. After all, my mission was not only to investigate her but to protect her as well. This time I had to use the help of two of my associates -the Fox and the Mister. They were old subjects of mine that became good friends and valuable colleagues. Both male and very attractive, they were the perfect decoy… Beautiful women rarely say no to handsome male photographers who offer to make their portraits. I called, they responded, and so we proceeded. It was a complete success. Although in my shots it seems like she is sometimes looking at my lens, the truth is that she didn't even glance at me. I don't think she saw me at all. Of course the fact that I was equipped only with my faithful Ricoh GR, helped a lot. Big lenses have a strong impact on beautiful subjects. I felt invisible, totally absent and powerful. Something you couldn't say about Deckard…
