Stuck in the corner, you’re free from the gaze of others. In that cold and dark corner. The romantic side of tragedy bores me, because with the real thing, real tragedy, there’s nothing romantic about it. The work undertaken by Guillermo out on the pavement, recording the faces of the street, does not portray the losers as heroes, but brings the viewer closer to what is breathtakingly real. /
And none of this would have happened, or at least not in this way, if you had not moved away from commercial photography in order to pursue the dictates of your photographical conscience.
"Maybe you’re right. Hiding out in the dark room of my brain was that other world, which became part of mine as I moved to understand it."
You always did what you wanted to do and then you stepped over the line.
"I think I did it without thinking. Photography is a book which tells life’s underlying story on blank pages. I’m just filling in the gaps."
Sometimes I’ve heard you belittle your work in the past, which irked me. I also think that the photographer of that time has been stripped bare and has given rise to another one. It was just a question of time...
"I don’t clearly remember what I was like, nor can I remember some of the decisions I took back then. Life was an unbridled torrent, wildly searching for something to finally channel it…"
This is the mature fruit of his past at fashion magazines, sessions with artists and languid models, along with a swarm of stylists who questioned everything. A world which can seem very interesting to those outside it, and maybe it is for many, but for Guillermo... it’s not for him anymore.
Caminando por Madrid
Hombre descansando en un banco
Hombre de Fourquet
El hombre del este
El hombre de la columna
Hombre en el suelo