Since the killing of Marielle Franco, an outspoken city councillor of colour in Rio de Janeiro last year, the country’s minority groups have battled with rising threats from conservative and religious groups. Now with far-right President Jair Bolsonaro in power — an apparently proud racist, sexist and homophobe — it seems likely that the situation can only get worse. His political victory at the end of last year triggered a wave of unrest across the country, largely led by left-wing groups and political activists; with the LGBTQI+ community in particular making itself visible. Brazilian photographer Felipe Avila has spent the past year participating in the movement while documenting its diverse protagonists, providing poignant insights into the country’s state of political turmoil. The pictures depict the rise of a community that will not be erased; with a striking political resonance of the controversial and hotly debated “artwork” ‘Barca Nostra’ by Swiss Icelandic artist Christoph Buchel at this years Biennale di Venezia. The hull of the ship that sank off the coast of Italy in 2015 which caused the deaths of more than 700 people on their way from Libya has been accused of overstepping the boundaries of taste. 

 

We discussed the art of depicting protest and persecution and the point at which a photograph becomes something more than an artistic expression. 

 

Your new book ‘Corpo Presente’ documents the street protests and celebrations led by Sao Paolo’s queer community in response to the political shift in the run up to and since the election of Bolsonaro. When did you know that this would become a series - and what prompted your commitment to documenting this wave of resistance? 

In fact, the depression in Brazil started with the coup in 2016 that took Dilma Rousseff from her position, the first woman elected as president in Brazil. And with the extreme right coming into power this year, through Bolsonaro’s ‘misgovernment,’ the poor, women and queers are being crushed at an unimagined speed. At the same time, a great revolution of sex, gender and race is happening in Brazil. In particular, I wanted to highlight the art and politicisation of transgender people in Brazil, which is, in my view, the most beautiful thing that has emerged in recent times and that strengthens our struggle against the man-made binary gender categorisation. The first photographs of this series were made at Carnival in 2017 – I photographed the people in the demonstrations against the increase of the bus fare in 2018. When I began to edit and put these photos together, I saw the contrast between those images of the naked people in the street during the carnival and the black blocks with their whole bodies covered in manifestations, and I thought that there was a great subject in the body as our main tool of struggle and resistance. So, I decided that this could become a series of bodies manifesting on the street in different ways. The manifestations and celebrations present in the book are intended to represent women, queer people, immigrants, the poor, all those who are oppressed by this macho racist state and by capitalism. 

 

This series differs from your previous work, which is centred on intimacy and the natural world. How do you view these topics together, and how do you see the relationship between the political and the natural? 

The images and procedures are constructed in different ways. But I think that the political issues that we are facing in Brazil and in the world go through this question of the body and our relationship with nature. We are understanding that the fictions of capitalism and the structures of power are built upon denaturalisation and control over our bodies. So, I think we need to take back our bodies and highlight our relationship with nature – inserting ourselves into a system that is bigger than us – instead of putting ourselves above it and trying to recreate a vision of what is “natural”. 

 

Queer artists in Brazil are facing a great deal of adversity and censorship – Last year, the group exhibition “Queer Museum” was cancelled due to pressure from conservative groups and a performance deemed inappropriate led to the prosecution of choreographer Wagner Schwartz, alongside their fellow curators. Do you ever fear for your safety and that of your peers, as well as your subjects? 

This is very sad. But I believe that it is a passing period for a more liberal future that will come, the more we are censured and attacked, the more new artists and protests emerge. The conservative right is revolted by its ideals being questioned. We will not go back to the closet, there is no ex-queer, ex-feminist… The future will come and will overturn these conservative ideals of the last century. During the publicity campaign of the crowdfunding of the book, I received internet attacks from the Bolsominars (Bolsonaro voters). But we do not have much time to fear. I see great courage in the artists and the people I see and photograph on the street, and that inspires me to be braver every day. Of course, we are taking risks, but the fight is urgent. Unfortunately, Brazil is a very unequal country, and I am still part of a more privileged group because I am both white and a man. Other artists and demonstrators are much more at risk than I am so actually being in these demonstrations can be a way of staying together and becoming stronger. 

 

How did you decide what to photograph? 

I began by following the agenda of demonstrations and parties by the black, feminist and queer communities that were happening in São Paulo. I chose the demonstrations that I thought would yield more images, and during the last two years, I left the house almost every day with the camera around my neck. The images from the book were made with an Olympus Trip 35, which is a basic point-and-shoot camera but that gave me agility to take pictures on the street. I photographed everything on film – I really like the process of shooting with an analogue camera without seeing the image at the moment it is being made. That way, I was able to delve deeper into what was happening around me and not into the image I was doing. 

 

Did the tradition of photojournalism inform the way you worked here – and was there anyone that particularly influenced you? 

I have always read newspapers throughout my life and I love watching documentary films. But at the same time, I wanted to make pictures that are not usually presented by the media. I was very influenced by Henri Cartier-Bresson’s texts on the process and his way of seeing and photographing. Political writing was also very important to this project and I was constantly looking to the work of Paulo Freire, Eduardo Viveiros de Castro, Eliane Brum and Michel Foucault. 

 

What kind of relationship have you developed with the subjects in the series? 

There were many people who I photographed in those years, and with whom I have diverse relationships. Some people I am in regular contact with and will always see at parties and on the street. I just have a virtual contact with others, and I follow their work. The vast majority continue to struggle on the streets and use their body as a weapon to combat despotism. Some I have never seen, and I have no contact – I would love to be able to meet them someday. 

 

What do you hope to achieve with this book? How are the funds and profits being used? 

This book is a way of documenting this struggle in very difficult times and somehow keeping these ideas and these bodies alive. In this way, we also hope to inspire and attract new bodies to this struggle. We do not make a profit, all the money raised through crowdfunding and the future sale of the books will be used to print more books and pay for the material used in the production. 

 

Your website features a quote from a song by Brazilian singer Belchior. What does it mean to you? 

Belchior is a great reference for me. This quote will not be in the book, but I wanted to put it on the site because he is a great popular philosopher and anarchist in my point of view, who has always advocated disobedience to power and control systems. The lyrics of “Like the Devil Likes”, written in 1976 (during the military dictatorship) are very current in the world political situation. 

 

You can find out more about the series and purchase the book here.