Graciela Iturbide 2025 Princess of Asturias Award for the Arts

Your Majesties,
Your Royal Highnesses,
Distinguished members of the Princess of Asturias Foundation,
Esteemed Jury Members,
Dear Laureates,
Ladies and Gentlemen,
Friends,

I have spent more than half a century of my life looking at the world through a tiny window that barely measures a few square centimetres. Doesn’t it seem paradoxical to grant me the prestigious Princess of Asturias Award for the Arts for such a limited achievement? I appreciate the recognition and feel truly honoured, but my merits do not go beyond those few centimetres of illusion. Because there can be no doubt: photography is not the truth, but rather the interpretation of a reality that the artist grasps based on their knowledge, emotions, dreams and intuition. As the lucid Brassaï put it, “Life cannot be captured by realism or by naturalism, only by dreams, symbols, or imagination.”

Everything I have photographed throughout my life has pervaded my spirit and driven me to repeat the process over and over again. Photography creates a sense of understanding in me of what I see, experience and feel. What’s more, it is a good way to learn about the world and its cultures. If people see my photos and say, “That’s Mexico”, I reply, “No, that’s Graciela Iturbide”. However, I do not feel I own my images, nor am I afraid of their being used or even manipulated. Some of my images already form part of the collective imagination of the Mexican people. For me, it is neither an achievement nor a risk. It is simply a reflection of Mexico, of what I see in my country.

The best-known part of my work portrays Mexico’s indigenous world. I have dedicated my best years to it, and thanks to it I have visited a large part of my country, especially the remote and disadvantaged regions where indigenous people continue to survive and resist. However, like the vast majority of Mexicans, I am the result of the fusion of two cultures, two worldviews that are almost always at odds. The history of Mexico is that of the syncretism dwelling within me, and I could not sacrifice even one of its facets without maiming myself. In the wake of the Spanish Civil War, artists and intellectuals arrived in Mexico, enriching our cultural life and inspiring us with their talent and knowledge. For example, Buñuel. I cannot fail to recall them at a time like this.

I do not like people saying that my photography is magical. I am more interested in its containing a dose of poetry, though I do not know whether I always achieve this. Photography plays with ambiguity; it reveals a fragment of reality that I try to conceal once more in order not to squander the mystery it captures. Even though the viewer may sometimes doubt it, I must make it clear that I have never constructed any image. All of them have been the result of chance or the result of an encounter. I am indebted to my teacher Manuel Álvarez Bravo for the most decisive piece of advice for becoming a good photographer: “There is no need to rush,” he used to say, “there is time, there is time.” Photography is the art that deals primarily with time; the art that challenges it, fixes it and, sometimes, also kills it.

Finally, I would like to make it clear that beyond the syncretism that embodies me, above all I consider myself a citizen of the world. Fortunately, the art of photography knows no borders, has no passport and requires no visas, even though some powerful men may try to limit free movement between countries and restrict the freedom of thought and creation.

Thank you very much.