“I follow you on YouTube.”
A Cuban found me two weeks ago. An Italian, years back. Americans and Germans have been following since the beginning. And then there are the Irish and Mexicans. The words they use are “authentic,” “funny,” and “truthful.” They say, “You have real experience.” They say I don’t ask for much. One said I’m the only channel his wife watches because I don’t always talk about photography. And everyone loves the van. Always the van. (Mine has been sitting for five weeks; let’s hope it starts.)
Year one of Raw Society’s festival on the island of Menorca.
Anyone who tries to pull off something like this is crazy. I’m sure they had their doubts connecting the dots, but from what I’ve seen so far, they nailed it. Anytime anyone must deal with a gaggle of photographers, you know you are in for some trauma. That’s just the way we are. Most of us are torn, at least to a slight degree. The infection we have raises our temperature to just below boil. Fine for making pictures. Not so fine when engaging as civilians.
The hotel is beautiful. A converted farm. Birdsong, rain showers, and more space than all my Japanese and Hong Kong hotels combined. The staff is charming and plays along with my spotty New Mexican Spanish. The first day of the event saw the opening reception in an incredible building. There was programming right up until the rain put a stop to the candlelight event planned for the town center. This is a small town in the center of the island. Locals everywhere. Exhibitions open to all, and are built into houses, museums, and even an underground bunker-like structure that might have been used for hidden shipments back in the day.
A famous photographer approached me last night and said, “This is like a super chill mini Perpignan.” For those of you who know, he’s spot on. For the geeks, a festival, not a tradeshow. Big difference. This is about photography, not technology. This is about the actual images produced by working photographers and those hoping to be working photographers. There are quite a few one-camera, one-lens types walking around. People doing their best to document the peaks and valleys of our flawed little world. There are screenings, panels, talks, and twenty-four exhibitions: the famous, infamous, and the rising. I’m along for the ride, here to review portfolios, participate in the bookmaking class, and take as much as possible.
The flight from Hong Kong was long. HK-Doha-Barcelona-Menorca. Twenty-three hours of nonstop movement. Incredible, but not what the human body was built to endure. I’m just waking after what feels like our first real night of sleep in a week. Christelle and Jorge could only hope for this at this point. And this brings me to my final point. An event like this isn’t for the faint of heart. This takes endurance. The fundraising, the planning, the permissions, the installations, and the acquisition of the talent. This is a full-time job and then some. Hats off to them for pulling it off. We live in a world of online critics, egos, and complainers. So far, I’ve got nothing negative to add, and even if I did, what’s the point? Yesterday was stellar. People were buzzing. Photography was the conversation, and that my friends, is a good thing.