The Color of Time
Pablo Aguinaco, photographer
I cant remember when I became interested in color as the driving theme of my photographs, or when it became my most important motif for sef expression, for perceiving, thinking, feeling. But, so far, I make photographs almost exclusievely in color.
Maybe it's because I started out as a painter, and that I painted and drew as a child, like all children, I suppose. In my case, though, color slowly became a very important part of life. It led me to painting, and as a result, to photography.
At 20 I discovered the great masters, both painters and photographers. And, while being involved in both media, I realized that photography allowed me to react more quickly, to take instant, immediate notes. I felt I could achieve much more with the camera than with a pencil or a brush; and I've come to believe that the camera has become today's paintbrush.
Sometimes I think that it's natural for me to photograph in color, given that I live in an extremely colorful country; and I always end up looking for color, discovering it, and synthetisizing what I see into chromatic values.
All I know is that we are surrounded by color, all the time. It is omnipresent and unavoidable. It affects me constantly, at times stopping me in my tracks, aware that I am actually seeing colors, that I can combine them, blend, change, and alter them, and that I can play with them as though they were living beings, capable of dialog and interaction. Colors reveal things about people and places.
My endless amazement at living in a world of color has, with time, made me increasingly aware of its power, and how it has defined my life. It is a constant source of inspiration.
I am not interested in photographing historical events, or disclosing crime, injustice, perversity or calamity, or that my photographs serve as a medium for grandiloquent protest, for political or ideological purposes, or to pronounce ethical or moral judgements. I think these values are inevitably implicit in all the images that people make.
I'm more attracted to the simple things. I prefer the solitary journey of the photographer-detector-of-chromatic-sensations, to the inquisitorial frenzy of society's judges. Perhaps it's because I think and feel like a painter. I don't know; I have no other way of explaining my work.