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| Pero acaso la libertad es real? Pregúntale a mi hermano… su cometa no vuela desde que los días grises se apoderaron de su alma. |
As both incentive and reward for dedicated photography students at universities in Colombia, fototazo will occasionally feature their portfolios. Other posts in the series feature work from Mónica Lorenza Taborda and Juliana Henao Alcaraz.
Biography
Santiago Rúa Henao, 21, is a student of Visual Design at Fundación Universitaria Bellas Artes in Medellín, Colombia.
Statement
Design is my responsibility, but photography is my passion. My knowledge of design has given me the foundation for making photography into my own science, a science as free as art, but as complex as geometry. It is the science of finding form, of organizing spaces, of experimenting with knowledge and placing it within the image, seducing minds, telling stories, fighting a battle with time and space, reducing the existence of life into a moment frozen into a negative. Some call it photography, for me, it is the complex yet simple task of making time talk about its nature through itself; it is nothing more than that.
Infancias Extrañas (Strange Childhoods) explores how the inner workings of children are explanations of the psychological states of adults. When we remember our childhood memories and contrast them with our adult thoughts, the result is a sea of feelings that we as photographers can express through the concepts and the composition of our images. We can also use photography to examine how the states of purity that children preserve express melancholy, love, company, hatred, sadness and other feelings that we understood perhaps more openly and transparently when we were children.
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| En las mañanas, cuando los amarillos pintan de silencio los días…. |
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| Mi hermano me acompaña, con sus extraños juguetes. |
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| Escondidas tras el ruido de los días felices. |
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| Luego, cuando los rayos del sol, dibujan el camino hacia la psicodelia más pura que el estado humano puede experimentar. |
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| Luego, cuando los rayos del sol, dibujan el camino hacia la psicodelia más pura que el estado humano puede experimentar. |
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| Cierro los ojos, y viajo. |
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| Mientras mi hermano baila una pieza con soledad. |
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| Pero ahí estaba él una vez más, salvándome de mi encierro mental, no es locura, es la realidad… |