Pablo Almansa is a Madrid photographer born in Murcia, a town situated in the southeast of Spain. At fifteen, he realized that he wanted to dedicate his life to the art of photography. He started in photography in private schools in Madrid, such as the Efti, becoming an assistant for three years. But it was his own research and personal grasp of the art that refined his talent, as he likes to highlight. At twenty, he took his first nude photograph. He strives to keep his photography, simple and sleek, honing his personal style in his visual expression, the play of light, and what he calls himself "the magnetism of photography”.
What is the part of the body you prefer as a photographer?
I have no preference. The whole body is fascinating. It's all in the art of knowing how to look, with patience, and to get the model to understand that in order to achieve what I really want from him or her, I need time to observe and contemplate. There is much to see in a body, and before picking up a camera, I look with great precision what I’m going to shoot, I watch and if I notice a gesture or a particular form in him or her, I memorize it so I can capture it after.
What is your view of the nude in photography?
The nude in photography is probably the most prolific and yet so often done with bad taste.
Why do you prefer black and white?
My nude shots have a precise goal: to be exhibited in art collections. Experience has shown me that if these photos are made for the edited market, colour can take the lead. But if the photos are intended for a specialist collection, black and white ages with more dignity. I have done artistic nude in colour, but it’s more challenging.
Your ideal Saturday?
Anything, as long as it makes me laugh and I am with my friends, my girlfriend or my family. I'm not very demanding.
Cinema or pub?
Cinema, without doubt.
Your favourite pastime?
Anything as long as it’s by the sea.
Do you consider yourself a voyeur?
Yes, and I think there’s nothing bad in that. Lots of voyeurs would like to know how to look in the way a photographer does. Today the difference between a photographer and one who isn’t is clear. Anyone can pick up a decent camera for a thousand Euros and declare themselves a photographer, but imposters are easily spotted. The difference lies in the fact -- and I stress this -- of knowing how to look. Fortunately cameras are less and less expensive, I could say they’re as cheap as a pencil, and for me it’s in this sense that I say that a painter doesn’t become an artist by wielding a pencil or a brush, just as a photographer doesn’t become such by owning a camera. The battle is over: we all own cameras. Now, show me their photos and I’ll say if they interest me or not.
- Meet Pablo Almansa in Normal Magazine issue 3 -