A photograph does not need to announce its meaning at the moment it is made. For Alejandra Quintana, the attraction can come first: a gesture, a familiar place that still feels mysterious, or a detail that quietly holds her attention. Understanding why it mattered may take much longer.
Photography became important to her as a form of creative expression, but also because it changed the attention she gave to daily life. She began noticing the way light fell on a place, small movements and interactions between people. Making a picture allowed her to experience a moment and observe it from a slight distance at the same time.
The quiet pull of familiar places
Alejandra often returns to scenes that feel recognisable without being fully understood. Personal rituals, ordinary gestures and spaces carrying a sense of memory interest her more than an obviously dramatic event. Sometimes she notices a particular light or feels the importance of a place without being able to explain it.
Carrying a camera makes her more curious about what lies beyond her usual route. It gives her a reason to wander, explore somewhere unfamiliar or approach a person she might otherwise pass. She values that movement out of her comfort zone, especially because she cannot know in advance what an encounter will bring.
What a project leaves behind
One project remains especially significant: Sé que la de arriba no me olvida, about Santa Muerte in Mexico. When Alejandra looks back on making it, the photographs are only part of what she remembers. The people she met and the experiences that developed around the work have stayed with her just as strongly.
She describes it as one of her most meaningful experiences, including discoveries about herself that she might not have made otherwise. A photographic project can have an outcome beyond the selected images. In her account, the act of making the work changed the person who would later look back at it.
Letting the result remain unknown
Analogue photography gives Alejandra a pace she values. She likes the fact that the image cannot be checked immediately. That uncertainty helps her release some of the pressure to get every detail right, a pressure she can feel more strongly when working digitally.
She is drawn to imperfections, but the important shift is in her own relationship with the process. When she lets go of perfection, she feels more connected to photography. This is a description of what supports her practice, rather than a rule about how everyone should work or which medium makes a photograph meaningful.
The same picture, a different viewer
Alejandra often follows an instinct before she knows where it comes from. She may feel connected to a person or a situation without making a conscious link to a memory. Later, looking through her images, she begins to recognise what drew her there.
That delay also changes the meaning of individual photographs. An image that seemed unremarkable when she made it can become important months or years later. The file or print has not necessarily changed. Her life, attention and understanding have.
“The photograph is exactly the same, but you’re not.”
It is a useful reason to return to an archive without expecting to make the same selection each time. In Alejandra’s experience, looking again is not simply checking an earlier judgement. It can be an encounter with something she was not yet able to see.
Following an image without forcing a story
Over time, Alejandra has become less concerned with whether a photograph is technically perfect or visually impressive enough. She now pays more attention to how it makes her feel, and is more comfortable trusting an instinct that does not arrive with a clear explanation.
After a period focused on documentary work, she is exploring a more intuitive relationship with the camera. She does not necessarily want every image to belong to a defined project or carry a complete story. For now, she wants to follow what catches her attention and discover where it leads.
That openness extends to the people who see her photographs. She does not need viewers to reconstruct exactly what she experienced. Each person brings different memories and associations, and she welcomes the possibility that the same image will produce different feelings.
If a photograph makes someone pause, feel something or look a little closer, that is enough. The image can remain open, allowing both the photographer and the viewer to return to it as different people.
Questions about Alejandra’s photography
What draws Alejandra Quintana to analogue photography?
She values the delay before seeing an image and the uncertainty it leaves. In her own practice, this helps her slow down and feel less pressure to make every photograph technically perfect.
How does memory shape her photographs?
Alejandra is drawn to familiar places, gestures and personal rituals. She often understands that attraction only when looking back, and finds that a photograph’s meaning can change as her own experiences change.
Does every photograph need to belong to a project?
For Alejandra, it does not. After a period focused on documentary work, she is exploring a more intuitive approach, following what catches her attention without requiring a complete story for every image.
Photography: Alejandra Quintana. Find more of her work on Instagram: @snapquish.
Based on a written interview for Developing Stories, Berlin Photo Studio’s series about the people and experiences behind photographs. Interview and editing: Emiliano Vittoriosi / Berlin Photo Studio.
