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Photos by Jorge Sáenz, Interview by Fredi Casco
Translated by Rose Barker and Marke McConnell
Jorge Sáenz is an Argentine photographer who has had a lot of influence among the photojournalists of Latin America. He is a prolific professional, the editor of multiple books and magazines, and teaches numerous workshops. In Paraguay, where he settled many years ago, he coordinates an annual international photography collective titled El Ojo Salvaje (The Wild Eye). He is also the Paraguayan correspondent to the Associated Press. It was in Paraguay that Sáenz completed some of his most recognizable works, including these photos on the Paraguayan military published in our sister magazine, Sueño de la Razón (Dream of Reason). At his house in Asunción I had the opportunity to speak with Jorge about his latest project: a photo essay highlighting a little-known region of the Costanera Sur (Southern Shoreline) on an almost-forgotten ecological reserve by the Rio de la Plata that is one of the few (albeit damaged) natural spaces remaining in Buenos Aires.
Where did the idea come from to do this photo essay about the Reserve? What is your affiliation with the area?
The Reserva Ecologica Costanera Sur (Ecological Reserve of the Southern Shoreline) has its origins, ironically, in the urban planning of the military dictatorship. The city demolished entire blocks of Buenos Aires’ historic center to allow for the construction of highways and it was in the costanera that they deposited the debris. It was dumped on top of the silt and sediment dredged from the Rio de la Plata and, as if nature were bent on revenge, eventually gave birth to what is today an ecological Reserve of enormous value to the people of Buenos Aires. My own connection with that area stems from past events in my life.
I grew up close to the Lujan river, a tributary of the Paraná Delta. The river was always a special place for me during the 1960s. My father taught me to swim there, and we lived only half a mile from the coast. We also had relatives who lived a little farther north in the Paraná MinÃ, whom I would visit during my winter vacations. It was later, upon returning from a four-year exile in Spain at the end of the 1980s, that I first discovered what is now the Reserve, though it was still just a wasteland then. When I returned from living for nine years in Paraguay, in 1988, I began taking my children there on the weekends to walk and ride bicycles. A short time later, while working as editor of Revista 23 (Magazine 23) between 2001 and 2002, the idea for this project came to me — to go to the Reserve once a week to take photos, those now on display in Nuestra Mirada.
What are your childhood memories of Costanera Sur?
The Balneario Costanera Sur (Southern Shores Beach) was in business there during the early decades of the twentieth century, with regular clientele from Buenos Aires. Later, with the polluting of the river and the movement of economic interests to the north, this once valuable location fell into neglect. But it had a glorious past, as demonstrated by the existence of the Escuela de Escultura de Bellas Artes (School of Sculpture and Fine Arts), the Museo de Calcos y Escultura Comparada (Museum of Replicas and Comparative Sculpture), and the Museo de Telecomunicaciones (Museum of Telecommunications) [1].
What type of people usually spent time there?
When I first went there it was mostly an abandoned area, very marginal. It was a place where the port’s truck drivers would nap and eat lunch and also a meeting place for the gay community. But after it received recognition as a Reserve families from a wide range of backgrounds began to frequent it. For example, there are groups of people both from downtown Buenos Aires and from La Boca who go to take a dip in the river on really hot days — though swimming is actually banned because of the water pollution. On Sundays the place is full of middle class families who go to exercise, hike, and bike. But during the week not as many people visit.
Obviously during the years of the Junta Militar (military junta), places like this took on other meanings. Did that in any way affect your perception of this public land?
Without question that subject came to mind while developing this project. I think some of the images clearly reflect the analogy.
What significance does this area hold for the city?
All natural lands in a city of this size will prove to be of fundamental importance. Today the place is still under intense pressure from those in the real estate industry who, after having filled the land along the river with huge skyscrapers, are still not satisfied. They aim to build on the Reserve itself.
When you went to take the photos for this photo essay, did you do so thinking of this place as “green”?
When I began this project — which ultimately lasted a full year — I thought of it as a break from my job. I spent my days working as the photo editor for the magazine I mentioned earlier, and that was a huge change from my previous job as a photographer. I began to look for ways to channel my personal photographic work. I bought a really inexpensive medium format Fuji camera (6 x 4.5 cm) that came with an exceptional lens. This encouraged me a lot. I like to use a different format for every project. This one was shot using slide film.
Based on what I see in your photographs, this place functions not only as an ecological reserve but also as a sort of memory bank. That is, Costanera Sur plays the role of a discarded element in the city’s narrative. It reminds me of Walter Benjamin saying that the work of the historian is to be both “archaeologist and one who captures history.” And yet the Reserve is a place full of life; it’s not a cemetery.
The River Plate was the grave of thousands of the best activists and anti-dictatorial militants. I can’t see it any other way. I, too, was militant and was arrested; but I had the good luck to survive and escape into exile while I was still young. The paradox of the story is that nature invades everything, giving new meaning to its existence.
You begin the project by showing an almost pastoral place, with little human activity. As the project progresses that image begins to change.
I didn’t get along well with people and because of that I decided to exclude them from this essay. Later they showed up a little, but not much. My dream is that when humans become extinct as a species on the planet Nature will have a new opportunity despite all the destruction we left behind, and life will break through again.
Rather what I mean is that toward the end of this essay you are showing the other face of the Reserve, what we might call the crudest…
The core concept that guided publication at the beginning of the project was, purposefully, an idealization of the force of nature free of human presence. With the emergence of mankind came environmental degradation and consequently our own deterioration, as well.
Several years ago you left Buenos Aires to return to Paraguay. Looking back, what are your thoughts?
I miss the city and its possibilities. I miss my parents, siblings, and friends who are there and whom I rarely see. But I really enjoy my second home. Paraguay has offered me much, both personally and professionally. I have become such a part of this country that when I travel to Buenos Aires now I feel a bit like a foreigner.
[1] The sculptures displayed there: The Fuente de las Nereidas (Fountain of the Mermaids), also known as the fountain of Lola Mora; the pergola from the old spa; and the monument to Luis Viale, hero of the wreck of the American steamship off the coast of Buenos Aires, among many others.
Tags: Buenos Aires city, environment, interview, Millenium Goals