We speak to the photographer about falling in love with water, spiritual experiences, and reimagining paradise amongst pollution.

Barcelona-based Denisse Ariana Pérez may have grown up on a Caribbean island, but it wasn’t until she left that she began to appreciate the restorative, healing powers of water. After some spiritual experiences in South America, the photographer traveled around the world, hoping to “capture different tonalities and forms of water”, armed with a newfound respect for our planet’s lifeforce.

Her 2021 book Agua presents water around the world as an omnipresent matriarch, a constant source of protection and joy. There’s a theatrical stillness to her work – people are often shot in posed positions, always at peace, surrounded by tranquility. Agua was shot in Uganda, Senegal and Denmark – she’d intended to travel to Asia but the pandemic interrupted those plans – and despite the work being completed in wildly different scenery, the focus and message always remains consistent.

The water has now become a key tenet of her work. Her project Black Girls Surf documents the movement to train young women in the African diaspora how to surf, while she has published numerous series of boys and men in water too. On her website, she writes: “I keep coming back to water scenes. I keep coming back to rivers and lakes. I keep coming back to oceans.”

In our latest In Focus feature we spoke with Denisse about how she embarked on her aquatic journey, what she’s learned about the water, and why hierarchies need to be flattened in order to tackle the climate crisis.

Q & A

Whereabouts in the Caribbean did you grow up, and how big a part of your life was the water and the oceans?

I grew up in the Dominican Republic. Unlike what people might imagine of a Caribbean island, I grew up in a city far away from the sea as the island is quite big. I never developed a deep relationship with water while living there. Water was not really revered or respected in the local culture, it was just an object of leisure and consumption, there was no spiritual bond with the water, it was just a place for social gatherings and noise. My relationship with water developed many years later as I moved to different corners of the world and became more spiritual.

Your book Agua captures people around the world interacting with water – what drew you to the subject at this point in time?

After having some spiritual experiences in Ecuador and Peru, I began to see water as my maternal figure in nature. I felt comforted by her, listened to, free, and at peace in its presence. I also respected its force and listened to its wisdom, just like one would with a mother. Water felt cleansing, healing, and meditative, it helped me separate myself from my ego and connect to something greater. I created Agua because I wanted people to experience something similar with water. I wanted them to let go of their own facades.

You traveled all over the world to photograph water, heading to places such as Senegal and Scandinavia. How did you pick out these places as locations that you wanted to shoot in?

I wanted to capture different tonalities and forms of water. Water is universal and I wanted to capture that universality and diversity. I wanted to show different tones and climates. Africa is very diverse, so I wanted to make sure I captured the vast Lake Victoria region in the East (an area that is very dear to my heart) and the Atlantic Ocean in the West. My initial idea was to continue in Asia and then continue in Europe but the pandemic happened right in the middle and I found myself stranded in Denmark where I was living at the time. To my luck, however, Denmark is surrounded by plenty of aquatic landscapes so I decided to take advantage of that and embark on a pilgrimage within the land in search of different scenarios within the territory.

During the making of Agua, were there particular things that you found you learned about our world, its environment, and its climate?

Despite the fact that the images in the book feel somewhat idyllic, several of them took place in environments invaded by man-made pollution and droughts. I had to reimagine a little oasis in these places. I had to look at how to create some magic within a disrupted environment in the hope to evoke a feeling of respect toward water and its preservation. Unfortunately, I also learned that people will prioritize their survival before the survival of the environment if they had to choose between the two.

Does the climate crisis impact the work that you do? If so, how?

Yes, it does. I think that a lot of my work uses beauty in order to tap into deeper social matters, be it of marginalized communities or the environment. Furthermore, a percentage of the sales from my book Agua went to support water preservation initiatives in Africa.

The world of environmental photography has been dominated by white people. What effect do you think that this has on the way humans see the world, and how can it change?

I think the vast majority of environmental photography does not really humanize or consider the people who engage with natural resources. It just focuses on cause and consequence, there is no nuance, and there is no deeper understanding or consideration of the intricacies of these people's lives and the decisions they have to make. I think we need to develop more empathy toward the way people live and function in order to bring forward any message, especially an environmental one. There is also this undertone in environmental photography (and in environmental missions at large) that only white people care about the environment and are the only thought leaders in the matter which is not only not true, it is elitist and exclusionary. Multilateral creativity is needed in order to tackle the climate crisis, and this requires a flat hierarchy across ideators and communities.

What's your most treasured memory of water?

There are two memories that come to mind. One, when I almost drowned in a river in Bern, Switzerland. I fought to my last breath until I managed to climb my way out of the powerful stream. This memory is important because it made me respect water and it made me connect with my survival instinct in an almost animalistic way. My second memory is quite the opposite, it is of me floating in Paros, Greece. It was the most serene I have ever felt in water, it felt as if I was allowing myself to rest not only for myself but for every woman that came before me. I felt so free, so at peace, so connected to everything around me.

Which other photographers do you regard as your biggest influences and inspirations?

I love the work of Andre Wagner, Vivian Sassen, Luis Alberto Rodriguez, Vivian Meier.

Now you've had a book out, exhibited your work, what's next for you?

Recently, I’ve been exploring filmmaking more, and I just launched my latest short film A Poetic Lesson on Black Anatomy. Film gives me the opportunity to bring together all my skills. My background is in creative copywriting, it is something I have been doing for a long time for brands and for personal projects, and film directing allows me to conceptualize, write and give a visual language to my ideas. It feels like a very holistic approach to creativity for me so I hope to do more of it in the future.