Loitering through the streets of Barcelona I found the need to document the street life of the other side of lively Catalonia/Barcelona….! The streets are full of character and bustling with chaos. You bump into pickpockets,jugglers,theatre artists,dancers and drug pedlars and prostitutes. These are mere photographic presentations of my bird’s-eye view of their courage which slips into rhythmic trance somewhere dilly dallying between fear and security.This are few of my official entries to the lens culture street photography competition 2015.
Given a chance you put me on the murky streets I would freeze. The series epitomizes their passion for their work frozen in a frame for the very moment.Unplanned, these photographs are ostensibly unrelated, taken in a variety of locations of El Raval,La Ribera and La Rambala. They have been sequenced through my narrative but each picture by itself is a story.I lived on the edge of El Raval, and chose the location particularly from my lens point of view. I wouldn’t recommend this area otherwise in normal circumstances. Mornings started by going to Dia supermarket to fetch muffins and fruits for my breakfast. I came face-to face with the gritty streets of Barcelona freshly washed everyday (A highly impressive and wasteful hygiene practise integral to Spain). The buildings are grey washed with peeling paint.The only hint of colour added by the clothes drying outside and graffiti splashed closed shop shutters. I see a few Bangladeshi waiters smoking their cigarettes and with x-ray eyes scanning every passer-by, see a hindu shopkeeper doing his morning prayers, get a waft of freshly baked turkish bread and see a few Pakistani’s chit chatting outside the butcher house. Yes ! you heard it right this area is dedicated to the immigrants of north Africa and south Asians. To me El Raval is a photographers delight. The Catalonians are also proud of its renaissance and have coined the new word called as “Ravalejar‘ which means to ‘to visit and take in the atmosphere of El Raval’. I am hooked to this neologism.
Come night, the medieval lanes gets transformed into trance with numerous hostels attracting backpackers, neon-lit shoddy bars, glitzy glam girls and occasional drug dealings at dark corners.I have given the overpacked tours choked La Rambala a miss to skip into the chic and intimate El Born. This place has the same character as its neighbour El Raval but its in the process of modernist renaissance. We are talking haute fashion, expensive boutiques, cocktail lingers, tapas bars and elegant street performances. I stole some time to pay homage to Picasso the maestro’s museum. You can stand for hours watching his work of art. I would like to write a detailed write-up about his work and would dedicate this article to the underbelly of Barcelona. The heart and soul of this El born is the wide open Passeig del Born. I saw a couple dance with such intense passion and dedication.For a moment I was mesmerised to see them exude those emotions on a bustling street.If you wanted to know where do the locals hang out then this is the place to be.
I chose one of the inner lanes to settle down for my evening tapas and Mojito. The place was called as ‘Caliy restaurant‘ it seemed like a clearing amidst the buildings. The owner and the waiter accommodated us with their sweet smile and broken english. Just behind me were a couple from the neighbouring area chatting away to glory and munching on several platters of tapas.I am somehow calmed down by the overload of architectural marvel and bohemian abuzz. A singer sings exuding bohemian spirit and I see the neighbours come down to hear him sing and breaks into a quick jig. To me this is the real Barcelona fashionable,rustic and charming.In between multiple servings of tapas my little cherub (how can you forget her) ran to join the local toddlers playing football. Every second one wore a FCB t-shirt (Psst. their national sport). I was quite intrigued by the fashion shoot happening next door. I went ahead and asked about their photographic gear without caring if he was Spain’s top fashion photographer.
Before I returned to my quarters I said a quick prayer at the Eglesia de Santa Maria del Mar, one of the most beautiful churches I have seen so far. It truly celebrates the gothic architecture of Catalan.Built in the fourteenth century, both the exterior and interior have been wonderfully preserved especially the stained glass windows.I make a quick pit-stop at the Plaça Reial, this is a scatter scare cousin from its neighbourhood. It is the square for the wealthy families and hungry tourists. Opened around 1860, on land formerly occupied by a Capuchin monastery, brought the centre of Barcelona to the Rambla. The elegant architecture of the new square, with its unmistakably Napoleonic air, houses some of the most high-class restaurants.
Late night hurrying down the daunting streets. I behave like a hyper-realistic tourist with my camera tucked in my backpack.My backpack hung over my shoulders.Eyeing every approaching peddler and staying high alert on pickpockets.Then I see her at the gritty corner of Nou de la Rambla. Waiting to latch onto the passing tourists and drag them into the dimly lit alleyways and streets. Criminalization ? Doe-eyed beauties proudly waiting for the world which never gave them a break from the moment they opened their eyes.(faces are hidden on purpose)
