‘Creative freedom is the only thing that matters’
Lanzarote-born artist Carmela García, winner of the 2025 National Photography Prize, discusses her creative universe: large-format images steeped in feminine symbolism that invite the viewer to step inside.
At what point did you begin to feel that photography should not simply capture what you see?
In the late nineties, I began working in my studio with my nieces’ old Barbie dolls. I would bend, twist and rearrange them to create scenes, then photograph them, using a medium-format camera that I went on to use for much of my work. Those images spoke about the oppression, abuse and isolation society imposes on women. The photographs travelled with me to Madrid, were exhibited in large format, and that was where my professional journey began.
What place does the body occupy in your work: is it a narrative element, a symbol, or something harder to define?
The female body is full of symbolism. It’s at the core of my work — a tool laden with meaning that has allowed me to create images that seem to belong to another world. At the same time, those images are also me. Then there is the physical body, where we experience life itself. Beyond that, there is what I think of as the world-body: the streets, nature, other beings, the spaces through which we move. My photographs emerge from that interaction.
‘My relationship with silent space and light comes entirely from this island’
How much does Lanzarote continue to shape the way you construct images today?
Enormously. My relationship with silent space and light comes entirely from this island. From a very young age, my father taught me that the light was different every day, constantly changing as it played across the mountains. That is what it means to truly see, and from there you begin to build.
Do you look for total control when you’re working, or do you actually need some things not to go your way?
There’s no such thing as total control. Beyond the necessary preparations, you have to leave room for spontaneity and improvisation. Chance often brings wonderful, unexpected gifts.
How do you balance institutional recognition with creative freedom?
Creative freedom is the only thing that matters. When it comes to recognition, you simply say thank you.
Is there anything in your own visual language that you feel you should question or even break away from?
No, not at all. I like my world; I feel at home in it, and it is endlessly varied. It allows me to work with the subjects that interest me and to let them evolve, just as I myself evolve. Images are infinite, just like our imagination.
