El Gringo. Gringo fotógrafo. I am the only gringo in my barrio. I carry a camera, wander the streets in some sort of half-crazy driven way and I am a tall blond Scandinavian alien. Basic sentences in Spanish escape my lips attempting to explain who I am and what I do as a photographer — more than once ending up making people think I work for a newspaper. “El gringo habla castellano” is a sentence I hear followed by big smiles all around as I struggle to understand the Argentinian flavour of Spanish. Needless to say I get noticed in my barrio. And get a name. El gringo fotógrafo. I am in Salta, Argentina, november 2011.

I’m here because…well, I’m here. Escaped Buenos Aires, arrived and took a liking to the dry, hot and dusty Salta with the fascinating barrios and amazing surrounds. Seemed like a good place to hole up and work for a while, so I rented a house in a quiet tourist-free barrio and Salta becomes home for 5 weeks. My barrio is 12 blocks or so from the touristy plaza and out here it is a different world. Mostly slow and subdued but it is barrio life, the energy is also here, life without filters. I like it.

I wander the streets possessed. Haunted, tormented and driven. Trying to come to grips with street and documentary photography, trying to clear, unlearn and defragment while learning to see afresh, see differently. My photographic work has stalled during2011, I want to pursue new directions, start over, re-invent — reinvent as I always do when I get tired of something or tired of myself. And as usual, I have no patience and want to be good at this right away. Patience, young jedi. I must learn things my way, even if it’s the opposite of how everyone else do it. Have to do things my stubborn way.

Salta in Summer before the rains is a grid of dusty, hot desert streets and I wander them every day. I search, I look but am I seeing? Seeing anything?, capturing anything?, making any pictures worth remembering? My combination of being obsessed and self-torturingly driven with no patience whatsoever means frustration sets in — but I must keep walking, shooting. Some days, I have light but do I have a moment? Other days I have moments but no light. Actually I cause moments. By simply appearing I change what is happening so that then becomes the moment. Often I end up photographing people reacting to me. Some days this is great fun. Other days I cannot quite cope and have to retreat. El gringo fotógrafo.

The rhythm of the street and the quality of the light dictates the day. Light here is almost straight from above and desert harsh for most of the day, leaving only a short window of light with any direction. Occasionally, beautiful storms arrive and leave again quickly. “It’s either too warm or too cold here in Salta” my neighbor says. He also says a lot of other things that is lost in translation.

Not really knowing what I want nor knowing how to get it but trying to un-learn and then learn becomes my thing. I could do with some guidance with storytelling though but that is to come later in the Peru workshop. That’s how I operate. Always teach myself things. Not always the best way, but it’s my way.

I wander the streets waiting for something I can make a picture out of. At times, the streets in my barrio are completely deserted feeling like a post-apocalyptic world featuring only me and street dogs. A perfect image of my nomad life. They know me, the dogs, and leave me alone. Just have to keep walking, keep looking, trying to see, shooting. Always make some pictures, even if they’re bad pictures and get me down, at least I am making pictures. Salta is in a remarkable location in northwest Argentina and I also visit a lot of surrounding towns. But the real work is done back on the streets, in my barrio.

As I get home at night I view the work of the day. Most days I have nothing. Damn photography thing kicked my ass. Again. Then once in a blue moon I make something I like. And I also ‘cheat’ and make a few portraits to keep my spirits up. The portraits are actually hard to come by though, most people refusing pictures. The next day the streets call me again.

Good images are far and few between. Great images are rare and take a lot of work and dedication, takes a lot of pictures that do not work to get those very few that do. Daniel Milnor has tried to drill this into my head. Looking back at Argentina, there’s maybe 8-10 images or so I really like. That’s good for a months work, I feel now. Of course, I felt frustrated at the time but that is probably the way I always have to feel to really work, and push myself. Too content, too satisfied, and it is probably apparent that I have stayed inside some comfort zone I should have stepped out of long ago. So the road continues.

This road goes on. Goes all around the world. So much still to see and learn. Actually the more I see, the less I know, the more I must learn. Forever searching, chasing the light, learning, looking, trying to see.


The last 3 images are from the town of San Antonio de Los Cobres, an interesting mining town north of Salta and worthy of it’s own blog post some day. View more images from Argentina in my Argentina image archive


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12 thoughts on “Memories of Salta

  1. alison 3 years ago

    what wonderful photographs , you`ve really captured the essence of the place. What a wonderful life you seem to live too. I`m just trying to learn about photography. I`m absorbing other beautiful peoples images hoping one day I will get there!

    1. Flemming Bo Jensen 3 years ago

      Thanks very much for your comment Alison, glad you like my work. My life is well, wonderful some days, horrible the next, living as a nomad, there’s not much in between. I’m addicted to it though as it gets me around the world again and again :)

    2. alison 3 years ago

      I have just read what you have written . I was smitten by the pictures but a bit too lazy (and impatient)to read what you had written ! (sorry ! )Your writing is very engaging ,gave me a real sense of “you” and of your journey……….. frustrations and rewards. You mention your need to un-learn is this in relation to your photographic knowledge?

      1. Flemming Bo Jensen 3 years ago

        No apologies needed, you are quite welcome to just enjoy the images :) But I’m glad you read the text as well! Un-learn is not so much the knowledge, more my usual way of working, shooting, seeing, composing, everything that happens during a shoot where it can be easy to fall into an old comfort zone and shoot what I would normally shoot. And I wanted to break out of that and challenge myself, still do.

        1. Aiison 3 years ago

          I understand exactly what your saying…………

          For me I think of it as a small dark box ,its comfy and familiar but I cant grow in there!…..

          1. Flemming Bo Jensen 3 years ago

            True. Most good things are created and happen when one jumps outside of the box!

  2. Gert Larsen 3 years ago

    Excellent written. Excellent images. The people at National Geographic must be sleeping, since you at not on the payroll.

    1. Flemming Bo Jensen 3 years ago

      Mucho gracias amigo! If you see some NG people, can you wake them up please? :)

  3. Gert Larsen 3 years ago

    … since you ARE not on the payroll.. of course

  4. Paul 3 years ago

    A really great post Flemming and you’ve made my mind wander, making me try to think what it felt like to walk those streets.

    My problem right now is getting even one step close to creating work such as this. I’m not a nomad but there is stories to tell everywhere and I’m taking baby steps and will get there in my own little way.

    Keep up the great work as I love reading blog posts such as these.

    1. Flemming Bo Jensen 3 years ago

      Thanks Paul. When I started this photographic mission a few years back I am not sure I thought I would ever do what I do now. Small steps but keep moving, keep learning and you will get far.

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