Step into the world of Vittoria Lorenzetti, an Italian documentary photographer whose lens transcends borders, capturing the intricate nature of human experiences. We had the pleasure of sitting down with Vittoria after her inspiring talk at TedxVitosha, and what ensued was more than just an interview; it was a heartfelt and genuine conversation among friends.
Through her collaboration with different organizations, she shines a spotlight on gender violence, notably through her impactful project “Unsafe: Behind India’s Rape Crisis,” which amplifies the voices of women and children affected by sexual violence in India. Currently immersed in the depths of the Amazon rainforest, she captures the lives of indigenous peoples and their harmonious coexistence with nature.
Recipient of the prestigious Italian Sustainability Photo Award, Vittoria’s evocative work has graced the pages of prestigious publications like Vanity Fair, BBC Science Focus, and Harvard Business Manager, leaving an enduring impression with each click of her camera. Through her lens, she masterfully intertwines narratives that not only mirror the human condition but also serve as a poignant reminder of the world we inhabit.
Could you describe the starting point of your Amazon journey?
I started my journey into the Amazon rainforest in March three years ago. I was there on the 4th of March last year for the third time, in an area called the Triple Frontera, which is at the border between Colombia, Brazil, and Peru. It’s where parts of the Amazon River converge. This is where the largest community is, where there’s electricity, water, and some tourism, though not much. This is Puerto Nariño, and my house was roughly there.
Does the border extend through the middle of the river?
In reality, the border doesn’t exist. Because the Amazon changes during the rainy season, especially in this area. The largest community here is the Ticuna community. In this area, you’ll find the pink dolphins, exclusive to the Amazon River. This community has many traditions and rituals involving the water and the pink dolphins. It’s fascinating. While my base was in Puerto Nariño to recharge my batteries and camera, I traveled extensively. I visited approximately 15 different indigenous communities.
I chose to focus my work on the indigenous people’s relationship with the natural elements of Mother Earth, particularly their profound connection with water. They believe water is alive, possessing a powerful spirit, and they rely heavily on it, not just for food – they consume caimans as part of their diet, but also spiritually.
Particularly, water is the element that sustains their lives because during the rainy season, the water level rises by over ten meters, completely transforming everyday life for the locals. Homes are built on stilts, raised two to three meters above the water. During the rainy season, people must access their homes by boat, whereas during other times, they can walk. This seasonal change drastically alters daily routines. It’s remarkable. Moreover, when it rains, unlike for Italian or European people, water is not seen as an obstacle in the Amazon rainforest. Instead, it’s embraced with gratitude as it’s seen as essential for survival. This deep spiritual connection with water awakened a new sense of gratitude in me for the four elements of Mother Earth.
How did you decide on this project? Why the Amazon? Why the Triple Frontera?
It felt like destiny. Initially, I planned to visit Japan because my brother had been there for three years. However, one day while I was scrolling on Facebook, I found out that a childhood friend was in the Amazon rainforest. So, as I was getting ready to go out (I was volunteering with disabled children at the time), I stepped outside, and there he was, passing by! So, we went for coffee. As we talked, I felt something, a calling to the Amazon rainforest. Later, I told my boyfriend about this feeling. He supported me, saying, “If you feel you need to go, then go.” So, I contacted my agency and proposed a project in the Amazon rainforest. After two months, I went there for two weeks, not taking photographs, but immersing myself in the community. My friend is the only European living there, so I engaged with locals, using boats to explore the rainforest. I observed their profound connection with Mother Earth, particularly with water. I asked an indigenous young man named Alex to help me understand more. He agreed, and we visited other communities, many of which hadn’t seen tourists before. These communities span Colombia, Brazil, and Peru, creating a unique mix of cultures, languages, and rituals.
Most of your projects are long-term, like the ones in the Amazon or in India. Why’s that?
I prefer long-term projects because I believe deeply understanding a community or a project requires living among them. This immersion is crucial to me. In India, for example, I spent five months there, living with the people. It’s not feasible for me to visit a place for a couple of weeks, take some photographs, and then leave. You can’t establish a profound connection with the situation in such a short time. So, it’s vital for me to live with them, to think like them, to understand their way of life.
After my initial four-month stay in the Amazon, I returned to Italy, reviewed my work, and felt the urge to delve even deeper into their traditions. It was a wise decision because by then, they were familiar with me, and I could delve even deeper. I returned and lived in various communities for a few days each, building strong relationships. This experience changed me profoundly. I began to realize how European people have lost touch with Mother Earth and everything it encompasses. It was a hard yet amazing experience. I even participated in various rituals, not merely as an observer but as a participant. When I talk to my mother, she often asks me why people there are so different. I believe it’s because they understand that the four elements of Mother Earth are in our body, and they embrace this connection deeply.
They perceive themselves as an integral part of nature rather than being superior to it?
Yes, they don’t destroy the Amazon rainforest because they believe if we destroy it, we destroy ourselves. This deep relationship filled with gratitude, respect, and reverence for the land completely changed my life, not just professionally but personally too.
Sometimes, when I take a photograph, I think about the right subject, the composition, and the lighting—all the technical aspects. But a truly good photograph comes from feeling it.
What sparked your interest in photography initially? I remember stumbling upon a story about a wall in your grandmother’s house covered in pictures.
Yes, indeed. In one of the rooms of my grandmother’s house, there’s a wall filled with photographs of me, my cousins, and the entire family. It’s completely covered, and there’s no space left. I can’t pinpoint exactly how my passion for photography started, but I grew up surrounded by my grandmother’s photos. When it came time to choose a university, I decided against it because I wanted to pursue photography. However, my father is a pharmacist, and many family members are lawyers, so pursuing visual arts wasn’t the conventional path.
There was pressure to pursue university education?
Exactly. So, I enrolled in political science in Milan. After earning my degree, I informed my father that I intended to pursue photography. I began working with a talented photographer specializing in luxury hospitality. We collaborated on books showcasing the finest luxury hospitality in various regions of Italy, such as Puglia, Langhe-Roero and Monferrato. While working with him, I developed my own interests and eventually embarked on my own career. I started by doing photo shoots in my city, but my true passion has always been capturing different cultures.
How did you approach capturing the essence of different cultures through your photography?
In my city, there’s a sizeable community of Indian people, specifically Sikh individuals, recognizable by their turbans. So I started going to their church, called the Gurudwara. It’s their traditional place of worship and it’s near my house. I began going there with them on Sundays because everyone is welcome, and they offer food and a place to sit on the floor. I started spending time with them, talking to the women. I asked them about their families, their marriages. All these women had children, and they shared about their husbands and the decisions they made regarding their families. And I started to understand that some of them were raped by their husbands. Their stories saddened me deeply and I felt compelled to go to India to document these issues, not only for them but also for myself. So, on my own, I decided to spend four months in India. I reached out to different organizations explaining that I’m an Italian photojournalist interested in documenting this topic. I asked for their assistance, and every NGO agreed to help me. Each organization provided me with four or five cases, and I started visiting villages to meet these women and document their stories. I interviewed them first and then spent one or two days building a relationship with them before starting the reportage. After returning to Italy, I felt the urge to do more. I went back to India again, this time focusing not only on older women but also younger. I took photograph of a five year old girl that was raped near her home. As I delved deeper, I realized the magnitude of this issue in India.
So you went back to India?
Yeah, four times, for free, to complete my reportage “Unsafe: Behind India’s Rape Crisis”. It was a very challenging experience that deeply affected me. When I returned to Italy, I had to seek therapy because I couldn’t cope as if all the stories I documented were weighing on me. It was incredibly tough to move forward. My father provided a lot of support during this struggle. Now, my reportage is being exhibited in various places in Italy. One of my dreams is to return and photograph the same girls again. I want to show and see if their lives have improved. Many photographers visit a place, take photos for a month, then forget about the people. I don’t want to do that. I want to return, and I’ve promised these women that I will. I know I have to go back in the future, but I don’t feel ready.
I want to continue this reportage because I believe it’s important not only to take from them but also to give back. I don’t just want to make money from my reportage. I want to thank them for sharing their stories. I want to give them all the photographs I’ve taken so they have memories. This reportage has been very significant for me, and I’ve realized that I want to be richer in experiences, not just financially.
However, when I tried to offer it to editorial magazines in Italy, I faced disappointment. They told me they don’t cover sexual harassment because they prefer positive stories. This is a problem in Europe. It’s challenging to sell a reportage on this topic because editorial magazines aren’t interested. It’s disheartening. That’s why I’ve taken my exhibition all over Italy. Every year on November 25th, the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women, I host numerous conferences where I showcase my photographs and discuss each story in detail, highlighting the harsh realities these women face.
How do people react to the images and stories?
Sometimes, women leave the room during my presentations because it’s difficult to hear these stories, especially for mothers. Some people suggest I should soften my approach, but these are the real stories. I can’t sugarcoat it. That’s why I present them in a raw, unfiltered manner. And I’ll continue to do so in a straightforward manner because it’s crucial for people, especially men, to hear these stories.
And how do men respond to them?
I often notice men reacting with shock, saying, “Oh my God.” This is the reaction I hope people have because they need to understand what’s happening in the world. For the past two years, I’ve been trying to do the same reportage in Italy. However, there’s a challenge. In India, women aren’t so aware of social media. In Italy, they are. When I reached out to different NGOs in Italy, they expressed concerns about photographing their women, fearing exposure online. It’s a delicate issue. In India, it was easier to communicate and publish photographs because they are not familiar with social networks. I’ve only been able to photograph two women in Italy. They agreed to publication, but I wish I could do more. It’s very difficult.
How do you ensure that the women in India who entrust you with their stories and faces feel comfortable with their exposure, particularly considering that they might not have a presence on social media?
It’s sad to say, but they don’t fully comprehend the concept of publishing on such platforms. I always explain to them that their stories will be featured in magazines and conferences, and many people will see them. However, they struggle to grasp what that really means.
And these women feel secure in your handling of their narratives for public discussion, considering the potential impact on their personal lives and communities?
Yes. The world knows because of their stories. When I visit a community or a house, the first thing I do is explain why I’m doing this reportage. I share about my negative experiences in Italy, but I recognize there’s a significant problem here, and I want global awareness about what’s happening. They told me no one was willing to listen to their voices, so I provided them with one. This is essential to me, and I aim to address it globally because this issue exists everywhere, including here in Bulgaria probably.
We face a notable difficulty with this matter, as well as with gender-based violence. Bridging the gap in understanding among men is, as you pointed out, a key challenge.
It’s challenging because, while women often relate to the photos based on their own experiences, men tend to perceive them differently. They often have told me, “Your photos are very powerful.” And I respond, “Why don’t you cry then? You should realize this could happen anywhere.” But it’s very challenging to make most men understand that this is a significant issue because they seem to want to shield themselves from these realities. They prefer not to confront it. I want to find a way to make this topic more impactful for men as well.
What strategies or approaches do you think would resonate most with them?
I was considering interviewing the perpetrators, but I’m not ready for it yet. However, I believe it could be very enlightening. I want to understand why they assaulted these women. I want them to tell me what happened. I wish that men could hear their responses. I think it could be a valuable approach to enhance understanding of this issue. Perhaps I’ll be ready for it in the future. I truly want to do this because no one else does. Usually, people only interview the victims, which is important, but it’s also crucial to comprehend why men commit these acts.
Is there a specific image from these series that resonated deeply with you?
It’s an image of a woman who was burnt with acid. When taking this photo, I was alone in the house with her and her child, and with no translator available. So, I started to communicate with gestures and I asked if I could take a photograph of her without clothes. She looked at me and replied, “If I undress, you have to as well”. And I did – we were both completely naked. The most difficult part was before I began taking pictures; this woman took my hand and asked me to touch her body. I touched every scar she had. I remember my hand was shaking. And I cried a lot. She cried with me. It was a very intense, but special moment. This is why I do what I do.
So your interest in documenting social issues doesn’t stem from your background in political science, but from a far more personal place?
Photography it’s like a cure for me. When I choose a topic, I know that in reality, I’m choosing this topic also to heal myself. I felt in the Amazon that I wanted to delve more deeply into the tradition to heal myself. So I do my job for the job, but also for personal healing. That’s why it’s so strong. And I’m very happy for this.
What directions do you anticipate exploring with your photography in the near future?
I would like to continue with the indigenous knowledge because I think that we desperately need this. When I come home after my travels, I always speak to my mother, to my father because I want them to understand what I lived and why. I hope that my job and my photographs can move something in people. I’m glad when they tell me my photos are beautiful, but I’m truly gratified when people tell me my photography made them feel something. This is the reason why I do this work.
So you believe that art in some form can change?
And it can transform. It’s not just photography. For me it’s also a form of healing, a way to move something in people. European people are very closed. We don’t think we have a soul. We believe our soul is disconnected from our body, but we are all energy. I hope that my photographs and my work can stir this energy in people. When I see women leaving the room or crying during my conferences, I know I’ve tapped into their sensitivity. You have to cry. I find solace if you shed tears because I, too, become emotional when addressing large audiences. My mother always tells me, “You don’t have to cry, Vittoria. You are a photojournalist.” No, Mom. It’s good that I cry because it’s much more than photography.
We’ve reached a wonderful conclusion to our interview. Thank you so much. Before we wrap up, I have one final question: what do you prefer, watermelon or melon?
Watermelon.
Interview: Sofia Hussein for Dinya
Images: courtesy of Vittoria Lorenzetti
