Tira La Foto Tia Gallery

Salvador de Bahia, Brazil 2007

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® Marcello Carino

 

 

 

 



® Marcy Cohen

Salvador by Ernesto was a photographer’s dream. The opportunities for creating extraordinary images were presented to us by Ernesto and the amazing life force of Brazil. There were also plenty of challenges and disturbing elements thrown our way keeping us on our toes and the maestro busy gentling prodding and coaxing us to sharpen our vision. From our visits with the community living in the abandoned Chocolate Factory by the sea to the remote fishing village of Acupe to the training ground of the Oxosso Capoeria troupe and the time spent in the boxing gym overlooking the port of Salvador, we saw the real face of the city, a face many Brazilians never get to see. I learned many lessons during those ten days – the most important being the importance of patience and watching situations as they slowly unfold and reveal themselves This was my second workshop with Ernesto and I look forward to many more. Marcy Cohen

 



® Nancy Falconer

Hot and steamy, Brazil slides seductively under the skin. Salvador is vast, sprawling, colorful, and rich in music and beaches. And all the while the turquoise south sea ocean whispers Africa. There are so many places, so many moments, so many opportunities to be inextricably changed forever. My thanks as always to EB for his trust in the universe and supportive patience with my learning. My thanks to Willard and Marci for their comfort and company and to Marcello for his conspiratorial aid in viewing—unattended of course—the upscale urinal with the ice and lemons! If I learned one thing (and I learned many): it’s to come back sooner not later. Nancy Falconer

 

 



 

® Willard Pate

After eleven workshops with Ernesto, I now know what to expect: the unexpected. Where ever I go with Ernesto —Cuba, Sicily, Mexico, Brazil—I’m always amazed by the places he manages to take his students and the situations he manages to find for us to photograph. In Salvador this time, it was, among other places, the “Chocolate Factory,” an abandoned industrial site filled with about thirty-five families who slept, ate, and played together (and sometimes fought each other) as they made do with the barest of material possessions—a few broken sticks of furniture, well-dented pots and pans, and lots of cheep beer on a Saturday afternoon. As I went about with my camera, I focused on both human dignity and human despair in the midst of the worst poverty I had ever encountered. I hope their images convey something of what I saw and felt. Willard Pate

 

 


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