How much do we truly know about our world? How much do we know about the different cultures and histories of people all around the globe? Photographer Santiago Billy’s might help with that matter. His goal is to document the effects of mass migration, global warming, and the rich cultural histories of various communities in Latin America with a strong emphasis on sharing the traditions of his home of Guatemala. Through July 28, he does so at NYC’s Bronx Documentary Center as part of the Latin American Foto Festival, where he’s exhibiting the series El Palo Volador-Reaching Heaven.
Santiago started his early career as a photographer of large-scale landscapes, and eventually evolved into documenting the effects of climate change, natural disasters, different cultures and traditions from Central and South America, and migration all over the globe. He also started the magazine Comvite with his close friend Juan Luis Toledo to better export these ideas for new viewers and people eager to learn more about these topics. And today, we speak with him about all of these and more.
Hi Santiago, it’s a pleasure to speak with you. How are you doing today?
Likewise Evan. I’m doing well, getting some coffee.
You started your career photographing landscapes, and then transitioned over to documenting various topics that were important to you involving climate change, migration, natural disasters, and cultural traditions around the world. Can you elaborate on what that transition was like, and how your process evolved to best capture these subjects?
I started like most Guatemalan photographers, we have some beautiful landscapes here. I felt something was off back then in 2006-2010. I kept seeing works by photojournalists on the internet and realised that the most compelling and lasting photos, at least in my mind, were those made of reality. So I started trying to figure out how to get into photojournalism—at the time I was studying journalism in university. I finally got an internship in a newspaper and was introduced to the photo team, where I was able to meet some of the most amazing photojournalists in Guatemala: Moises Castillo, Luis Soto, Jesus Alfonso.
That’s an impressive start.
Some years passed and by chance I saw Luis Soto, who was working for a magazine called ContraPoder, during the ‘Quema del diablo’ in my hometown. I asked if he needed an assistant, told him I would bring him all the coffee he ever needed. After a few months, in 2014, he sent me a message asking if I had a portfolio since there was a new project for an online newspaper; I sent it and they asked me to come to an interview. Surprisingly, I got the job in Diario Digital; that’s where I learned the craft of photojournalism.
So what was that experience like?
I guess photojournalism is only learnt by doing news work; it made me mindful of sending the images as fast as possible. This transition was mind-blowing for me on a technical aspect—I used to sit with images for a few days before that. Then came facing reality in Guatemala: one of my first assignments was covering a helicopter crash. During that time I started learning my own Guatemalan reality. I kept a bit of the landscape ideas in mind when photographing people, I enjoy framing with a background to tell the story. The evolving of capturing different stories came as how I could tell them in a more natural way so emotion could be felt. I guess I focus on a moment of tension.
Being close to reality, outside of a sheltered life, gave me an opportunity to grow as a person and make myself useful for others around me. Going from seeing everything from a distance when doing landscape to meeting people and hearing and understanding their stories was a huge shift. It also became a way to be able to tell people’s stories and to remember to focus on their stories first and foremost.
Being close to reality, outside of a sheltered life, gave me an opportunity to grow as a person and make myself useful for others around me. Going from seeing everything from a distance when doing landscape to meeting people and hearing and understanding their stories was a huge shift. It also became a way to be able to tell people’s stories and to remember to focus on their stories first and foremost.
You also started a website/magazine with your close friend Juan Luis Toledo, called Comvite. You wanted to give a more human angle and perspective on the cultural traditions of the “developing” or “tropical” world as you put it. Can you elaborate on how you and Juan started Comvite, and the decision-making process on what cultural events, traditions, and history both of you might want to publish there?
The decision making comes from the idea that as tropicals we have not had a magazine that takes into account how our reality is moulded by our seasons. In the tropics, there is only wet or dry seasons, or both at the same time. I guess developing is more of a rich world concept. The idea comes from the aim to tell stories from our perspective. As an example, here it’s super exotic to think about the existence of snow or efficient public transport, but blowing up fireworks any chance we get is the norm. So the idea is to be able to tell cultural stories from the perspective of those who take part in them. Sometimes getting that angle is difficult since there can be language barriers. We started the project as a way to not ask for ‘permission’ anymore to tell the stories we wanted to tell.
I’d love to learn more about your creative process. Can you give us some insight into how you choose the subjects you’ll focus on, or when do you consider a series is finished?
The subjects I choose when it comes to traditions are mostly trying to find out about something I have not seen properly photographed in Guatemala, listening to people tell me about what they do in their towns and then just going there.
For a series to be finished, it’s a bit difficult to know, but once I feel like the story is set in its own time and place, I feel that then it’s finished on my side. Most traditions will keep going, but at the same time, you get to feel once they’ve changed enough from where you started and I guess that’s the time to end a photo series.
For a series to be finished, it’s a bit difficult to know, but once I feel like the story is set in its own time and place, I feel that then it’s finished on my side. Most traditions will keep going, but at the same time, you get to feel once they’ve changed enough from where you started and I guess that’s the time to end a photo series.
Focusing more on your recent work, El Palo Volador is a unique subject. When was the first time you witnessed it, and how has your experience working in photography changed your perspective about the festival itself?
The first time I saw it was in Joyabaj in August 2015; I had heard about it before but never seen actual photos of the tradition. With a friend we decided to head to Joyabaj to document it, and there we meet two brothers, Alex Rodríguez and Hugo Hernández; Alex then invited me to go see the one in Cubulco the following year. I took up the invitation and in June 2016 travelled there to see the tree cutting and kept going through the whole process. After that, I went back in 2018 to start the photo series using a view camera. Working in photography gave me total access to the El Palo Volador and the dancers. So I was able to focus on one of the dances that happens during the town fair. If it weren’t for photography, I would’ve probably never seen it.
Did you have any personal stories or traditions in your household when you were growing up that really stuck with you, or festivals/traditions in your hometown that you still remember to this day?
My hometown of Antigua Guatemala is huge on Lent and Semana Santa (Easter). Growing up it was my grandmother that was very interested in keeping customs in the family, so we celebrated Día de todos los Santos (Day of the Dead) on November 1st—as she would say, ‘para recordar a mis muertitos’ (to remember my dear deceased ones). During Lent and Easter as a child I used to carry the ‘procesiones’ (large floats with catholic motifs).
Speaking of traditions, spirituality, and community. What are some routines or stories from your personal life that might have drawn you to the El Palo Volador festival?
I guess what drove me to find out more about El Palo Volador was the lack of information about it. I’m generally curios and like to see things. From my personal life, I guess it came down to my childhood when I used to travel with my father to a farm or to the jungle. The idea of finding and discovery is something I was brought up with.
Also, to be able to get close to a Maya tradition drew me into El Palo Volador. In 2012 I had the privilege to work as a photographer for the Maya Aj’quij that travelled to Caracol, in Belize, to document the Baktun. There, thanks to Don Reginaldo Chayax Wex, I was able to feel a bit what the Maya world view is about. After that, I took a great interest in their stories and how we could do things together to document these rituals and dances.
Also, to be able to get close to a Maya tradition drew me into El Palo Volador. In 2012 I had the privilege to work as a photographer for the Maya Aj’quij that travelled to Caracol, in Belize, to document the Baktun. There, thanks to Don Reginaldo Chayax Wex, I was able to feel a bit what the Maya world view is about. After that, I took a great interest in their stories and how we could do things together to document these rituals and dances.
You are working with the Latin American Foto Festival in NYC, where you’re exhibiting El Palo Volador series. What has that been like, and can you elaborate on your experiences working with them?
I’ve been working with Cynthia Rivera, the work has been wonderful. I’m just incredibly grateful that this series will be shown.
How important is it for you to tell the story of El Palo Volador? As well as, how important is it for you to spread the cultural traditions from around Latin America to a larger audience, and to people who may be unfamiliar with them?
It’s very important, since when the photos will be exhibited the dance is also happening back in Cubulco. I think it comes with a bit of serendipity that the dance takes place on the same dates as the festival. We will all be glad to celebrate El Patrono Santiago. For a larger audience, I think it’s always helpful that we remind ourselves that some things are done without the need for monetary compensation, but with the intent to celebrate and to remember. The sense of wonder and adventure you get seeing the dancers climb to the sky and descend is a wonderful feeling. The series opens up to larger discussions about religion, masculinity, and Maya culture. It also helps to see something amazing a society does to feel empathy and the need to share what you also do in your own society or village with others.
What has the response been to El Palo Volador-Reaching Heaven so far? Any reaction to that series (or other series within your oeuvre) that stuck out to you so far?
It’s been quite positive, I guess making people curios about it is the best thing that can happen, and also to learn from those who make it is crucial.
As a final note, are there any future projects that you are working on that you can hint at or any idea what your next project might be?
The next project is a bit more into climate change and a more artistic exploitation of Guatemala through and idea of purgatory.