Denisse Ariana Pérez: Turning the Tide
PROJECT: AGUA, 2020.
WORDS & PHOTOGRAPHY: DENISSE ARIANA PÉREZ
When I first envisioned my personal project Agua, I planned to travel to different corners of Africa and Southeast Asia to shoot. I wanted to capture the contrast in people, environments, hues, light and culture and the contrast between distinct bodies of water. I hoped for this project to feel universal, just like water itself. But in the middle of shooting, the pandemic hit. I found myself stuck in Denmark, where I was residing at the time. I was alone in a place that I barely knew, uncertain of what would happen with my future and my projects. I was in a country with rigid border closures. But I discovered that I was also in a country with beautiful water landscapes. Despite those tightly sealed borders, there was almost complete freedom of movement within the territory.
I looked within, searching for the true essence of this project. It wasn’t about the many destinations I could travel to in pursuit of exotic aquatic flora. Rather, it was about my emotional and spiritual relationship with water, how it had enabled me to connect with both myself in a profound way and also with something bigger and ancestral. Water had taught me to be more fluid in life. It invited me to wash away the things that so needed to be washed away. I didn’t have to travel to different continents to show diversity—in many ways, that approach would have been easier. Instead, I would seek diversity in my immediate surroundings.
During that summer of 2020, I embarked on a journey through different parts of Denmark. I actively looked for people who I thought would add something special to my project, people whose energy spoke to me. Some were dancers, new friends. Some had a natural, almost innate connection to water, and others were terrified of it. In these Nordic landscapes, the water is colder, which required me to be much more present. I was pushed beyond the role of photographer and also became a guide and facilitator. I needed to give comfort to my subjects, the majority of whom are not models and had never been photographed in this manner, encouraging them to let go of their mental facades and instincts. My reassurances emboldened them to pose in certain ways and to connect with the water, though their bodies were often shaking due to the temperatures. I helped them to lean into it, to flow in a different way, even if that meant stepping outside of their comfort zones. I guided them to breathe with me.
Agua didn’t develop how I expected it to, but ultimately, I realized my vision. When I look at Agua and the book that resulted from it, I do see the contrast that I was longing to capture. In the project, I also see myself. Sometimes we need to adapt, to change course. As long as we are true to our intentions, we can tell meaningful stories that ring true to both ourselves and to others. The results tend to be more rewarding than anything we could have anticipated.
As long as we are true to our intentions, we can tell meaningful stories that ring true to both ourselves and to others.
