INTERVIEW WITH MAXIME BALLESTEROS

He roams through the night like a hunter with his analog camera: Maxime Ballesteros. He is not a voyeur of wild parties where sexual desire reaches its peak, but a silent observer of a world where boundaries dissolve and a subjective reality emerges.

Our program consultant for photography, Nadine Barth, spoke with Ballesteros about his work for the French fashion magazine L'Officiel. Excerpts of the interview were published there. Here you can now read the complete interview.

Nadine Barth: You are mostly seen with a camera in your hand. Do you feel that you have to document what is happening?

Maxime Ballesteros: I carry a camera with me constantly. And I take photos almost every day. Which is probably quite trivial in today's Instagram world. But it's less the need to document everything than the need to be ready when I see something. I started taking photos as a teenager after I realized that my brain had started to erase most of my memories, over which I had no control whatsoever. Over time, it developed into something else, and that excites me more than maintaining memory; but the relief – every time I press the shutter button – is still there.

NB: How close do you get to people?

MB: While it certainly applies to life in general, in photography you are constantly reminded never to judge anyone solely by their appearance. Everyone presents themselves in a certain way, but it's also your job to find out how thick that facade is, if it's not already translucent. I need some kind of connection, even if it's just a tiny spark, anything – otherwise I feel like I'm running into a wall. With my working method, this can just as well apply to objects or still lifes. Some of them, I believe, I have very much humanized. Whether it's a person or an object, I like to be very close to what I photograph. Literally, physically. I use first-class lenses, usually wide-angle. Even if it seems hardly sensible nowadays, I have always adhered to clear rules in my work. Never use a zoom; if you need to get closer, use your body. Never reframe or crop an image. If it doesn't work as you originally shot it, then you need to aim better and plan ahead. And never take two shots of the same thing.

NB: What does reality mean to you?

MB: That's a very difficult question, as it might be exactly the reason why I photograph. I believe I am still searching for its meaning and interpretations.
I take snapshots and staged shots in the same way. For example, when I photograph on the street, I frame a small part of the world, perhaps I use a flash that changes the shot and thus represents an interpretation of reality. However, if I stage a rather unvarnished shot, then it also comes alive, becomes part of my reality. Similarly, the nocturnal world, the world of our dreams and nightmares, lives and shares our brain with the world we experience with open eyes.

NB: You started with black and white photos and used the school darkroom. What was important at that time?

MB: Back then, right at the beginning, it was most important for me to spend time alone in the darkroom. I photographed almost everything, just to have pictures to develop. The smell of the chemicals, the undisturbed atmosphere, the whole process fascinated me. It was a place where I always felt good. I did that for eight years and experimented quite a bit with the technique and with photography. In my last black-and-white years, when I finally got a flash, it became really fun. It was very liberating, I became so much freer and so many new horizons opened up to me. I felt like I could photograph anything, freeze it. I no longer had to carry a tripod everywhere I went. I also no longer had to constantly change the light sensitivity and aperture of my camera.
One day, about nine years ago, after I moved to Berlin, however, I bought a cheap camera online that came with a color film. I had never thought about photographing in color before, or maybe I was just afraid of it. But I used this film, which brought about a whole series of changes. There was so much I had to learn anew, in fact it was like learning to speak and write a new, much more complex, subtle, emotional and rich language. I never returned to black and white.

NB: You still work analog. Why?

MB: Because of the amount of trust it requires. Whether it's a commission or a personal situation, neither I nor the subject can see what's happening. So we have to trust each other. And I like that the subject isn't confronted with a shot of themselves. I think it allows them to forget themselves a little more, to open up. So we can truly share something. We recognize movements, eyes, poses, what works and what doesn't. It becomes very sensitive. Almost like a dance sometimes. Sometimes I take photos for a client for four or five days and no one gets to see a single picture. I like that. So I don't spend too much time on the same thing, but keep looking for ideas without thinking too much about what I've just done. When the films are developed, when I finally discover the pictures, I can look at the whole story with new eyes. This has forced me to master my tools really well, so that they have become an almost natural extension of my eye. But I also feel that this allows me much more freedom and pushes me to always move on to the next picture, and never to get stuck on one idea. I think I like restrictions. Working analog also forces me to be quite efficient, in the sense that I don't take too many individual shots of the same thing. Usually no more than two. It can perhaps be compared to shooting an arrow, trying to hit the targeted goal already in your mind, as opposed to a machine gun, with which you shoot wildly and can be sure that you will hit something.
But I'm sure there are also digital photographers who have the willpower not to look at their display, and who use their camera just like an analog one, but I don't think I could do that. I would certainly look at the display.

NB: You moved to Berlin in 2007. What does the city mean to you?

MB: Spiritually, my work has nothing to do with Berlin, even if many of the shots take place there. I cannot view this geographically. The cities and countries where I work are very important in their diversity. What I found in Berlin, I like very much, and I find it less and less. Not because of the city, but because my eyes have become accustomed to the landscape over time. Travel is essential in my process. I have to feed these eyes with different colors and cultures and types of humor. I wouldn't go anywhere if it wasn't about taking photos. It is also the only way for me to see something. When you wander around with a camera in your hand, every movement leads you to the next picture, you go back, stop, wait. It's a very special way of experiencing the world. All your energy and attention are concentrated on one eye and one arm.

NB: You mainly work for fashion brands and fashion magazines. Do you feel comfortable in this world?

MB: No more or less than in any other scene. The fashion industry is full of fantastic, sensitive, warm-hearted, humble and cosmopolitan people, but also the complete opposite. I believe that every kind of scene represents a miniature world, with its own codes, hierarchies, beliefs, its stories, which you first have to get a little familiar with. Although I couldn't always live in it, it can be an extremely interesting place, especially for a photographer. Where you can be an observer at the same time, but also an actor when you photograph. It allows a very direct kind of dialogue.

NB: How would you describe your style?

MB: As far as photography is concerned, I've never really believed in styles, but rather in a way of approaching and viewing subjects that you want to capture. Perhaps giving a body of work a special, sometimes unique flavor?
I use very simple tools, just three cameras, each serving its own purpose and used in slightly different ways. A fast one, a purely stable one, and one with a really wide angle to get up close.
I design and conceptualize the shots in my mind, with the camera hidden behind my back or hanging in my hand. I wait for the right moment or turn the subject until I find an angle that might work.

NB: Do you have any role models in photography?

MB: William Klein, for his approach to the medium and the way he contributed to its development. Helmut Newton, for his humor and his cheeky imagination. Mary Ellen Mark for her incredible dedication.
Also Antoine d’Agata, Martin Parr, Bruce Davidson, Daidō Moriyama, Anders Petersen, Guy Bourdin, Jeff Wall, Les Krims, but also Sophie Calle or Duane Michals, etc. These are all photographers I looked up to when I started photography. And through their books, they taught me so much. I spent hours in the library, and they were such an inspiration.
I consciously don't pay too much attention to the younger generation of photographers, not out of a lack of interest, but to keep myself away from any kind of visual influence or restrictions that would limit my own work or cloud my vision. I prefer to look in novels, films, paintings, on the street.

NB: The book is a cooperation with Sang Bleu London. Can you tell us how this collaboration came about?

MB: Maxime Büchi from Sang Bleu was probably the first person to encourage me to make this book after he showed my work in his London premises a few years ago. But he not only encouraged me, he also pledged his support. We've known each other for quite a while now, almost ten years, and I've always admired and trusted what he does. I'm very happy that he's involved in the project. He's someone I can talk to openly, share any idea with. Everything he tackles, he does with a lot of passion.

NB: Is the medium of photography intended for eternity?

MB: Eternity seems quite long, but I hope that photography, like books, drawings or music, is also something that future generations can look at to discover a part of the world they come from.

© Nadine Barth