Home Photography Photography Showcase – Juan Antonio Guisado Bersabé
Photography Showcase – Juan Antonio Guisado Bersabé

Photography Showcase – Juan Antonio Guisado Bersabé

294
0

PHOTOGRAPHY CREDITS:
Photography by Juan Antonio Guisado Bersabé
Designer: Angelina Corsets
Makeup Artist: Sand Make Up
Models: Myriam Lorenzo y Monica S
Assistants: Loren Rovira Rius, Yolanda Borràs Wai-bi
Lamps: Le Cirque de le Mouche
https://www.facebook.com/juanguisadofoto/
https://500px.com/juanguisado
http://juanguisado.com

I do not really remember well how the pictures of “Time” were formed in my mind, the inspiration came to me from a set of different inputs: photos, readings, and some crazy TV series. The one thing I was certain about was that there had to be two characters dressed in a timeless, almost sectarian way and that they would have some objects that mark the time, both clearly and allegorically, hence the strings that link each other. A chess board representing life, the hourglass and elements like the astrolabe as well as the smartphones, tablets, and lamps with Edison bulbs marking time. Scenery had to be a visually shocking place as if past, present, and future were in an unused place. For this reason, we have chosen a non-operating factory.

I told the team my whole idea. I usually work with Angelina and Sandra and they were really enthusiastic about the idea, so after months preparing the location, costumes, poses and the selection of models we got those pictures.

While I was editing the pictures I thought that a brief text next to the images could bind the circle. I showed the result to the writer Rafael Lindem and he accepted the challenge. He wrote a story inspired by the photographies. As the images are a piece of time we are not going to use the whole story.

“After several unsuccessful attempts, I realized that I should encounter with that mimetic being – Yes, mimetic, because I refused to assume any kinship with the executing arm of my misfortune – before reaching Julia and getting her back.

It had been a long time, would she still be alive? Would she still hold the spoiler’s hand? These issues and other dark questions came to my mind as I found a solution. Would she be happy with her? Would she have forgotten me? No! Julia wasn’t a simple object that could be stolen, she had a soul, she loved me, and she would take the slightest opportunity to escape. If she had not already done it, it would undoubtedly be due to the fierce vigilance of that parasite disguised as me. But all that was going to change. I was lucky to find the anomaly. This is how I call it; three strings clinging to the skin of my back, of an almost ethereal fiber, rippling through my bedroom, downstairs, towards the door that faced the street. I could see them while I loosened my corset beside a mirror. I assumed they have always been there, and that only when the afternoon light struck the glass its reflection became tangible. I took those tentacles in my hand and I pulled hard.

I found resistance on the other side, so I decided to follow the path marked by the anomaly. To continue seeing it, I needed some help from a small mirror. With it in one hand and the mysterious strings in the other hand, I walked out of my home, towards the avenue, until I reached – my heart leaped – the wooden entrance of Königreich Spiegel. I walked along the paths that I had visited so many times, although I now was moved by a growing excitement: the ghostly ropes guided me! My excitement was not unwarranted, as I checked when I found, behind some hedgerows, the ball was snatched from me as a child, followed by the flowers of Baudelaire, worn and withered.

So the thief kept her treasures there, I thought. I wondered if that trail could be premonitory, and if, as I tried to believe, I would find the answer to all my inquiries after those strange filaments. Hadn’t she used them to find me? I was really convinced about it. And precisely: my fingers soon started to stumble over theirs, which gripped the invisible fiber in a regrettable state of tension. We were wearing the same clothes, but her eyes, opposite to mine, that showed a vivid expression of triumph, they were full of despair. It was the first time her reflection had taken the initiative, it was the first time she lost. ”

(294)