Photo by Ivan Kashinsky
Carmalina Merino is put into her grave, in Penipe, Ecuador, on August 20, 2006. Carmalina, 82, died from breathing volcanic fumes when Tungurahua erupted sending lava through the village of Palictagua, killing 6 people and critically burning her grandson Frank Baus. Wednesday night on August 16, Tungurahua began to erupt sending lava down the sides of the mountain, throwing volcanic rocks the size of baseballs and covering the local communities with ash. The volcano erupted in July of this year and in 1999 as well. The last series of serious eruptions was between 1915 and 1925. It is said that Tungurahua will blow again in the near future, but nobody know when. People in the surrounding communities lost everything and almost 800 families are living in shelters.
Every so often a young photographer comes along that epitomizes the future of the field of social documentary photography. Ivan Kashinsky is such a photographer and a person that I've come to greatly admire for his determination, patience, and vision.
After completing his Master's Degree at San Jose State University, Ivan has been pursuing his passion for documenting indigenous cultures in Latin America. For the past two years, Ivan has lived in Quito, Ecuador with his wife Karla Gachet, another wonderful and talented photographer.
Recently, Ivan won Honorable Mention in the Pictures of the Year International competition for a story on the eruption of a volcano in adopted homeland. I interviewed Ivan through e-mail today about what he has learned about photography and life through his experiences in Latin America.
DD: How has working in Latin America changed your approach to photography?
Ivan Kashinsky: Working in Ecuador has changed my life. It forced me to face a set of challenges that were overwhelming in the beginning. First, the language.
How do you work in an environment in which you can not communicate with the people freely?
At first, I had to communicate with body language, smiles, and eye contact. This helped me to develop patients.
Patience is everything.
Sometimes I would spend hours with my subjects before beginning to take pictures. After a few hours, the people realize you are not just some tourist passing through and you are dedicated to getting to know the people and understanding how they live.
As the months passed, my Spanish developed to the point in which I could sit down and talk to people for long periods of time. This patience helped me to push my photography to the next level.
Instead of going in, photographing, and leaving, I would spend time. The more time I would spend, and the more I would push myself, the deeper the images would become.
The people would slowly let me into their lives, opening up new opportunities, new situations, that I was totally ignorant of when I first arrived.
Photo by Ivan Kashinsky
A man points towards the path of lava on the side of "Mama" Tungurahau, an active volcano, on August 18, 2006. Late Wednesday night on August 16th Tungurahua began to erupt sending lava down the sides of the mountain, throwing volcanic rocks the size of baseballs and covering the local communities with ash. The town of Palictagua was hit hard by the disaster when lava came through the village killing six people and seriously burning a fourteen-year-old boy. The volcano erupted in July of this year and in 1999 as well. The last series of serious eruptions was between 1915 and 1925. It is said that Tungurahua will blow again in the near future, but nobody know when. People in the surrounding communities lost everything and almost 800 families are living in shelters.
DD: How do you get your worked published?
IK: Yes. You can push your photography as hard as you can, but what if nobody ever sees it..... then what?
I have found that in the past year I have probably spent 5 percent of my time taking photographs, 20 percent planning and researching (finding the stories), and 75 percent networking.
Agencies have been the key to publishing my work in other countries.
Unfortunately it wasn't enough. I had to knock on doors and make phone calls to break into the magazine scene in Ecuador.
Finally, I reached the point were I could sell images to the magazines in Ecuador and then push the story out through an agency to sell it a second time outside of Ecuador.
Photo by Ivan Kashinsky
A horse covered in volcanic ash stands in the decimated village of Bilbao, Ecuador, a town near the active volcano of Tungurahua on August 17, 2006. Lava rocks the size of baseballs came raining down on communities located near Tungurahua. Late Wednesday night on August 16th Tungurahua began to erupt sending lava down the sides of the mountain and covering the local communities with ash. The town of Palictagua was hit hard by the disaster when lava came through the village killing six people and seriously burning a fourteen-year-old boy. The volcano erupted in July of this year and in 1999 as well. The last series of serious eruptions was between 1915 and 1925. It is said that Tungurahua will blow again in the near future, but nobody know when. People in the surrounding communities lost everything and almost 800 families are living in shelters.
DD: Getting back to the first question, has living in Ecuador changed your life and your photography?
IK: Working and living here has enriched my life in many ways. More important than changing my photography, I have been exposed and developed like a piece of film. Through my senses I have soaked up so many different tastes, colors, and smells.
Inside my mind I have tossed around ideas of cultural identity, history, and oppression, that were very foreign to me before I spent time here.
The great difference between the individualistic nature of the United States and the collective, communal ideology of Latin American families has been both frustrating, challenging and enlightening at the same time.
To contact Ivan send correspondence to ivankphoto at gmail dot com