Exposing a heritage in color & light.

Newsmagazine readers everywhere remember the photographs of Guatemala's Maria Cristina Orive--even if they don't remember her name. Her black and white images of figures like Isabel Peron and Salvador Allende telegraphed the tensions of Latin America's turbulent 1970s and continue to communicate the dynamics of the moment to contemporary viewers. Somber black and white seems well suited to Orive's news photographs from Latin American public life a generation ago. She also used black and white film to capture the personalities of cats, to trace the human form, and to record the architecture of Antigua, her home city, in images that are noteworthy for their beauty rather than their news value.

It is her color photographs of Guatemalan religious festivals, however, mat have earned her a lasting place in the history of Latin American photography. Long after the crises of public life have faded from memory, the vivid presence of Orive's Guatemalan villagers emphasizes a cultural richness that has sustained her nation throughout its history.

Orive is one of a handful of Latin American photographers to gain international recognition for work in color. Some of the region's photographers even maintain that black and white photography is the only appropriate medium to represent Latin American realities. Orive respectfully disagrees.

"During the mid-seventies Latin Americans began to get to know each other. We lived through the influence and the illusions of revolutions. We denounced imperialism, poverty. The photographs had to reflect the situation, and black and white was more suitable. But the true photographic reality of the continent wasn't limited to that. People are working in color too, depending on their individual inspirations and backgrounds. And black and white in the hands of Sandra Eleta, Cravo Neto, Sara Facio, and so many other artists of the continent isn't poor or miserable," she adds. "It's luxurious, poetic, vital."

Working in color also offered her some practical advantages. Although many photographers in Guatemala still find it difficult to locate the materials necessary to work in black and white, color film and professional developing services are readily available. Color also coincided with Orive's vision of her homeland.

"I had always wanted to define what it means to be Guatemalan," she says. "Miguel Angel Asturias's Legends of Guatemala is so visual that it always drove me to treat my country through photography.... Just as Antigua's architecture and stones inspired me to shoot in black and white, the rest of Guatemala is color. Without a doubt because of the indigenous people's clothing, but also because of its vegetation, its lakes, its light. Just like Asturias said, everything is color. That's what gave birth to my preference for color. I'm comfortable with it. I think I dream in color."

When work led her to Paris in the 1950s, Orive developed a friendship with Nobel laureate Asturias, then Guatemala's ambassador to France. She remembers Asturias as a great listener. When she explained the concept of what would become Acts of Faith in Guatemala to him, Asturias was excited by the possibilities.

"I argued that faith moved the Guatemalan people, that it motivates their culture and their society. Everything Guatemalans do is an act of faith, from the Maya down to our times. The colony was established in the name of faith, and we grew up with the art we saw in the churches."

Asturias agreed, and he encouraged Orive to "do it, but with lots of color! Lots of color!"

Late in 1972, Orive began working on the book. She was joined by Argentina's Sara Facio, already noted for her piercing psychological portraits, in what would be the first of Facio's many visits to Guatemala. "She, who so loves black and white, agreed that Guatemala was color," Orive remembers. Their trip coincided with many of the country's religious celebrations. The fall weather offered another advantage that Orive exploited to great effect in her photographs. "The light is also marvelous in those months. It's intense and transparent."

They returned again in 1973 during Holy Week to photograph the famed processions in Antigua. Gradually the book took form as each photographer investigated particular communities or festivals that captured her interest. While she was photographing in Guatemala, Orive approached her subjects with deliberation. "I never liked to `enter shooting,' mostly because it isn't right, it isn't a report of reality. I like to take a seat on the steps and watch the people pass by, to see what's going on, and to let them sense my presence. That way you establish a tacit understanding and acceptance."

Sometimes she even asks her subjects to pose. "When I was in the cemetery of Coban for the Day of the Dead, I thought it would be rude not to ask. I was surprised that they were enchanted with my proposal and rapidly arranged the family group, including the dead in their tomb, for the photograph."

The sense of life that emanates from the people in Orive's photographs animates the other elements of her work. Some of her most memorable images depict the religious sculptures created by Guatemala's colonial masters. Her photograph of the carving of Jesus of the Merced that plays the central role in Antigua's Good Friday ceremonies is one notable example. "I selected the site because of the wall that served as background and for the light that would illuminate the Christ. And I waited. It would be an exaggeration to say that we saw each other when he appeared, but that is how I felt."

The resulting image, one of only two she took on that occasion, clearly conveys Orive's reaction to the statue's intensely human gaze. Devotional images of Maximon, one of the most popular figures in Guatemalan religion, also play a major role in the book. People make offerings to the sinister Maximon, also known as San Simon or Judas, to ensure this potentially dangerous saint does not turn against them. As a prayer distributed at one of the chapels in his honor explains, the spirit of Maximon would never allow a sorcerer more powerful than himself to appear. Worshipers are instructed to offer a cigar, a tortilla, liquor, and candles to invoke Maximon's protection. Different colored candles are designated for different kinds of protection: red for love, purple for vices, and black for vengeance.

"I'm not a fan of Maximon, but it is an important rite in the country, a rite where Christian and daily customs are mixed, where the improvisation is constant," Orive says. "There are three Maximons in three different places. I selected those from San Andres Itzapa and Santiago Atitlan because they are very different. The one from Itzapa was dressed like a European when I photographed him, with a suit of clothes lent by a famous general, ex-president of the country, who venerated the image. Other times he's lent a uniform. This Maximon is venerated more by ladinos [mixtures of Indian and white who no longer wear indigenous clothing] than by Indians. In contrast, the figure from Santiago Atitlan is eminently indigenous.

Journeys to other religious festivals in Guatemala followed until Orive and Facio decided they had gathered enough material for their photo essay. In 1974 they presented Asturias, then vacationing in the Canary Islands, with the preliminary designs for their project. Asturias was captivated by the photographs and agreed to write the book's text. Unfortunately, he died only four months later. Dispirited and uncertain how to proceed, Orive and Facio stopped work on the project. "Two years later we realized that we had to finish the book, that his words still lived through his works," Orive recalls. So, with the help of poet Manuel Jose Arce, the trio selected texts from Asturias's writings to accompany their photographs.

The first edition was finally published in 1980. Acts of Faith in Guatemala was received with enthusiasm. In France, Le Figaro declared that it contained "the most beautiful images ever published of Guatemala." The book's popularity continues today. It is selling well enough that Orive and Facio are planning a third edition.

Orive's successful photography career began as a natural outgrowth of her work in the media. When she began her studies at Smith College in the 1950s, the school wasn't offering a major in communications. She got her start recording classical music programs for its radio station. After her graduation in 1954, she went on to Boston University to study radio production and, on her return to Guatemala, she continued working in radio. Orive wasn't interested in being an announcer. Instead, she purchased time on one of Guatemala's major stations, sold advertising space, and presented cultural events ranging from opera to symphonic music. She also began directing the weekly cultural affairs page for El Imparcial, conducting interviews, inviting guest criticism, and traveling beyond Guatemala to immerse herself in the cultural currents of New York. She traveled to Paris in 1957, staying on to work on the Spanish-language transmissions of the French radio and television company ORTR (Radio Television Francesa). Her work in Paris allowed her to continue developing her skills as an editor, producer, and reporter.

She got her start as a photographer by taking images to illustrate what she calls her "personal reporting." She entered the world of photojournalism when one of her coworkers at ORTR, novelist Mario Vargas Llosa, accepted a magazine correspondent's position with an Argentine publication. He took the post on the condition that Orive serve as his photographer. By 1968 Orive was working full time as a photojournalist, specializing in show business. She had already developed an impressive list of credits, including work for the Spanish version of Life, when she decided to move to Buenos Aires in 1971 as a representative of Sipa Presse. There she began covering events ranging from the cultural to the political, with a particular emphasis on the nations of the southern cone that were experiencing political upheaval. She also worked in Venezuela, Peru, Brazil, Colombia, Panama, and, of course, Guatemala. Wherever she went, Orive sought out her professional colleagues, establishing friendships with the leading figures in photojoumalism and a generation of budding artists.

Even before Orive left Paris, she was an admirer of Facio's work and contacted her as soon as she arrived in Buenos Aires. The two immediately struck up a lasting friendship, and Orive credits Facio's example and counsel with fortiflying her own vision. Facio also taught her how to develop and print her black and white photographs. Shortly after she arrived in Argentina, Orive established her own news agency based in the studio shared by Facio and Alicia de Amici. The agency, the first of its kind in Argentina, included photographers such as Guillermo Loiacono, Alfredo Sanchez, Juan Travnik, and Jorge Revsin.

Orive says her idea came as a response to the times. "The political realities of Argentina at the moment required a lot of reporting so I created a small photographic agency to cover all the aspects of Peron's arrival, for example, the great demonstrations, and many other events."

Facio, however, credits Orive with greater foresight. In her recently published Photography in Argentina, she noted that Orive's visionary work came before the Peronist government prohibited foreign news agencies from providing information from Argentina. It was Orive's organizational and journalistic skills that inspired the first Argentine news agencies, including Noticias Argentinas, Diarios y Noticias, and SIGLA.

By 1973 Orive and Facio had founded Latin America's first photography publishing house, La Azotea. Their motivation was simple, Orive says. "We agreed that there were very good photographers in the continent and if we didn't make their work known, nobody else would."

Buenos Aires, with its experienced printing companies and dedicated photographers, provided the ideal base for the fledgling organization. The professional contacts Orive had established during her travels as a journalist helped La Azotea expand its horizons and fulfill its goal of publishing the best photography from all of Latin America.

La Azotea began by publishing a series of black and white postcards with work by Argentine photographers. Having tapped an avidmarket, their line of postcards grew rapidly. Soon they had published images by almost every major figure working during the 1970s and 1980s. They also launched a series of short monographs highlighting the works of individual artists. Their most ambitious projects, reserved for large-scale photo essays and historical studies, were issued as part of their Lo Nuestro series, which they inaugurated with the publication of Acts of Faith in Guatemala. Orive's continuing work as a press photographer required annual trips to Paris, which she parlayed into opportunities to garner a substantial European audience for La Azotea's publications.

"Given the high quality of the work and its reproduction, it was an easy task," she says. Just as she declines to select a favorite photograph from her many images, she also declines to name a favorite book from La Azotea's production. "I think the entire catalog of La Azotea is its greatest historical and artistic contribution."

La Azotea's books cover every stage of photography's development in Latin America. Orive and Facio have produced books on pioneers like Martin Chambi of Peru and Alejandro S. Witcomb of Argentina; historical figures like Grete Stern and Annemarie Heinrich, and the most avant-garde figures on today's photography scene.

The newest addition to their catalog, Contemporary Photography in Argentina Two, presents a varied and exciting showcase of emerging talents ranging from the traditional documentary work of Adriana Lestido to intriguing conceptual images constructed by an artist who calls himself simply RS.

La Azotea's roster of awards, including honors for the best book published in Argentina in both 1992 and 1995 and invitations to participate at international venues like the Frankfurt Book Fair, certainly confirm the importance of its efforts.

Orive has retired her camera, at least temporarily, to devote her time to La Azotea. "Right now, I'm overworked promoting the work of others. There are so many good photographers," she observes. Still, when Orive attended a slide-illustrated lecture by Graciela Iturbide, she confessed to her Mexican colleague that the presentation had tempted her to pick up her camera again.

Even if she never takes another photograph, though, Orive has made an inestimable contribution to Guatemala's photographic heritage. With La Antigua Guatemala: J.J. Yas and J.D. Noriega 1889-1960, she used her role as publisher to present and preserve the black and white photographs of this pair of pioneering Guatemalan photographers, the forerunners of crive's own art in Central America. Her latest project involves cataloging a collection of images by a Mexican photographer of Italian descent, Tomas Zanotti, who worked in Quetzaltenango at the turn of the century. As important as these archival efforts are, anyone who has ever come across one of Orive's own images understands that she too has developed a body of work that captures a history worth saving.

K. Mitchell Snow contributes frequently to Americas on photographic subjects.