Espiello 2025 #5: Walking the Wounds, Filming the Unwritten

There are films that speak through language, and there are films that speak through rhythm and presence. El arte de los analfabetos, directed by Kevin Castellano and Edu Hirschfeld, belongs to the latter. A deeply personal and visually resonant documentary, it retraces the life of Kevin’s grandfather Antonio—born in the street, raised in motion, and silenced by memory.

But this is not simply a story told in retrospect. It is a film made in motion, a road documentary where walking becomes both method and metaphor. The camera follows Kevin along a pilgrimage of inheritance, tracing the long path Antonio once walked with his father from Valencia to the Pyrenees. Through this reenactment—part memory, part mourning—cinema becomes an instrument not of explanation, but of accompaniment.

From the Archive of the Body

The trailer offers us glimpses of a stripped-down, intimate journey: footsteps echoing through forests, long stretches of rural road, the quiet hush of old places remembered but changed. There are no sweeping scores or stylized reenactments—just the patient unfolding of memory through place. The voiceover does not impose meaning; it opens questions. What happens when trauma is too heavy to narrate? Can memory survive outside the written word?

This is a film about the ethnography of the unsaid. Antonio, who once tried to write his life but gave up because remembering was too painful, becomes the absent presence guiding the film. Kevin’s journey is not only filial—it is archival. Each landscape passed, each meal shared, each pause in breath becomes a site of memory, a trigger, a gesture of care toward a past that resists language.

A Cinema of Absence and Intimacy

Visually, the documentary follows a quiet, grounded aesthetic. Shot by Castellano himself, the cinematography reflects an ethic of closeness and restraint. It is not flashy—it is honest. Faces are filmed with tenderness. Landscapes are given time to breathe. In one shot, we see a page fluttering in the wind, a metaphor for memory’s fragility. In another, Kevin sits with his grandfather, not speaking but being there—an image more powerful than dialogue.

This is cinema that listens, that walks alongside its subject rather than in front of it. Its emotional power lies in what it refuses to dramatize. The absence of archival footage, the simplicity of the narration, the quietude of the score—all these choices create space for the viewer to feel rather than be told.

A Testament to the Unwritten

El arte de los analfabetos is not only about Antonio’s story; it is about the many lives that go undocumented because they do not fit into neat historical boxes. It honors the knowledge carried in bodies, in gestures, in routes taken again and again across generations. It reminds us that writing is not the only way to remember—that some stories must be walked, lived, and filmed.

Within the frame of Espiello 2025’s theme, Memory: Inhabiting Oblivion, this film is a luminous contribution. It inhabits the margins—not to illuminate them with bright lights, but to show us how people survive in the shade. Through its simplicity and care, it makes a powerful claim: those who cannot write still have stories to tell—and cinema can help carry them forward.

Espiello 2025 #4: Minga en Tenaún — Architecture of Memory, Cartographies of Belonging

In Minga en Tenaún, directors Francisco Gedda Ortiz and Máximo Gedda Quiroga invite us into a world where houses move and memory stays rooted. This 63-minute documentary, set on the Chilean island of Chiloé, is a cinematic journey through collective labor, intergenerational heritage, and the geography of home.

At the heart of the film is Nicolás Bahamonde, who dreams of restoring a historic wooden house—destined to become the future Museo Tenaún—and relocating it across land and sea to a plot owned by his daughter Andrea. What might sound like an act of logistical bravado is, in fact, a deeply ritualized cultural tradition: the minga, a practice of communal work that transforms impossibility into celebration.

A Moving House, A Still Memory

The film documents not just the physical movement of a house, but the emotional topography of belonging. We are not merely shown planks and ropes, boats and backhoes—we are immersed in a sensory geography where laughter, music, and storytelling flow alongside the tides. The house becomes a mnemonic device, carrying with it not only walls and beams but stories, songs, and jokes passed down through generations. As the house journeys through water and overland, it charts a map of cultural continuity, resisting the tide of oblivion.

Gedda and Gedda Ortiz’s direction is gentle yet assertive. Their lens lingers on gestures—calloused hands hoisting beams, muddy boots, shared meals—turning labor into poetry. The cinematography by Máximo Gedda grounds the viewer in the earthy materiality of Chilote life while opening contemplative space for something more ephemeral: the invisible threads of memory and community that bind this endeavor together.

Minga as Method, Not Just Subject

What makes Minga en Tenaún remarkable is its narrative structure: the film is itself a minga. Just as dozens of neighbors come together to move a house, so too does the documentary gather stories, knowledge, and shared labor to build a cinematic structure greater than the sum of its parts. This is ethnographic filmmaking not as extraction but as participation—an embodiment of convivial geography, where the act of making is as important as what is made.

The filmmakers, both deeply experienced in Chilean ethnographic media, are sensitive to representational ethics. They step aside when the community speaks, allowing the rhythm of the work and the voices of the locals to carry the narrative. The result is a film that is co-created with its subjects, not simply about them.

Inhabiting the Past, Shaping the Future

In a world increasingly marked by dislocation—whether through climate change, forced migration, or cultural loss—Minga en Tenaún stands as a quiet act of resistance. It insists that heritage is not static, that memory is not only to be archived but to be moved, reinhabited, and remade. It reminds us that preservation is not the opposite of change but its companion.

The house reaches its destination. But the true movement is in the viewer: by the end, we too have been carried across sea and soil, returned to the essential question at the heart of ethnographic cinema: What do we carry with us when we move, and what carries us?

Espiello 2025 could not have found a more resonant entry for its theme, Memory: Inhabiting Oblivion. Minga en Tenaún is not just a documentary—it is a lived cartography of memory, rooted in place yet open to the world.

Espiello 2025 #3: Review of Atín Aya. Retrato del Silencio — Stillness as Testimony

In Atín Aya. Retrato del Silencio, directors Hugo Cabezas and Alejandro Toro trace the delicate contours of a photographer whose work found voice in quietude. This 77-minute documentary is not merely a biographical portrait—it is an ethnography of observation, a study in how silence, stillness, and looking can become acts of profound cultural witnessing.

Atín Aya, often referred to as the “portraitist of silence,” emerges here not as a distant figure from photographic history, but as a guide through a landscape of memory, whose camera touched the soul of Andalucía with rare depth. Through still images and archival reflections, Cabezas and Toro create a contemplative geography—one in which the camera is less an instrument of capture than one of communion.

Photography as Ethnography, Silence as Language

The film follows a journey through the life and gaze of Atín Aya, from the 1990s—when his most iconic work began circulating—to the discovery of previously unseen photographs. But this is not nostalgia. The filmmakers take us into the present, showing how the places and people Aya once documented have evolved, resisted, or disappeared. In doing so, the film becomes a quiet but potent commentary on urban change, social loss, and the politics of remembrance.

Cabezas and Toro, themselves seasoned documentarians, mirror Aya’s own visual language. Their cinematography is restrained, favoring long takes, muted tones, and ambient soundscapes. This aesthetic discipline becomes a form of reverence: silence is not emptiness, but presence—dense, layered, and alive with emotion.

Looking Back, Looking With

In a world of incessant digital noise and fast imagery, Atín Aya. Retrato del Silencio is a reminder that looking can still be radical. It calls upon viewers to slow down, to inhabit the moment, and to consider the ethical act of seeing. Through a mix of interviews, visual essays, and poetic montage, the film becomes a dialogue with the photographer and his subjects, many of whom are revisited decades later.

The most moving sequences are not those of exposition but of resonance—when an elderly subject re-encounters their portrait, or when a landscape once photographed reveals how time has rewritten its textures. These moments are geographies of return, where the image becomes both map and memory.

A Portrait That Reflects More Than One Life

This film is not only about Atín Aya. It is about what it means to witness, to document with humility, and to preserve lives through the quiet insistence of the lens. It asks who gets remembered, and who remains in the margins. And in doing so, it places Aya’s work in the broader context of visual ethnography, where each frame is a trace of human presence, vulnerability, and resistance.

At Espiello 2025, with its theme Memoria: Habitando el Olvido, few films so elegantly echo the festival’s ethos. Atín Aya. Retrato del Silencio is not just a tribute to a photographer—it is an invitation to reconsider the politics of looking, and to recognize silence not as absence, but as a powerful, enduring archive.

 

Notas para un abecedario sobre Atín Aya

A — Andalucía

Tierra natal, escenario vital. En sus pueblos, en sus rostros, Atín Aya encontró el alma profunda que su cámara supo escuchar.

B — Blanco y negro

Su paleta esencial. En la austeridad de los tonos encontró la verdad desnuda de lo cotidiano.

C — Cámara

Herramienta, confidente, mediadora. La Rolleiflex fue su aliada silenciosa en cada encuentro con la realidad.

D — Dignidad

Rostros surcados por el tiempo, manos curtidas por el trabajo. Nunca retrató la miseria, siempre la entereza.

E — Espera

Tiempo suspendido, mirada atenta. El fotógrafo como cazador paciente del instante justo.

F — Fotografía

No como artificio, sino como testimonio. La suya es una mirada comprometida, humana, directa.

G — Gente

Paisanos. Anónimos, humildes, esenciales. Atín los hizo protagonistas.

H — Humanismo

En cada encuadre late una ética de respeto. La fotografía como acto de reconocimiento.

I — Interior

Espacios íntimos, luces tamizadas. Lo interior como extensión del alma del retratado.

J — Juventud

Retratada con la misma verdad que la vejez. Porque en todos los rostros habita una historia.

K — Kairós

Ese instante irrepetible que Atín sabía atrapar. Más allá del cronómetro, el tiempo del alma.

L — Luz

Natural, sutil, esencial. Sus retratos están tallados en luz y sombra.

M — Memoria

La suya es una obra que custodia lo que desaparece. El archivo de un mundo que se desvanece sin ruido.

N — Norte y Sur

Aunque nacido en Sevilla, su mirada fue hacia todos los márgenes. Su Sur es universal.

O — Oficio

Artesano de la imagen. Su técnica era meticulosa, sin artificio, con amor al detalle.

P — Paisanos

Más que un título, un concepto. Los suyos no son modelos, son hermanos.

Q — Quietud

Nada de vértigo. Cada imagen suya invita a detenerse, a mirar con calma.

R — Retrato

Su género por excelencia. Rostros que son espejos del alma colectiva.

S — Silencio

Las imágenes de Atín Aya no gritan. Hablan bajo, con una voz que resuena por dentro.

T — Testimonio

Su obra es documento y poesía. Un archivo visual que emociona y enseña.

U — Utopía

La utopía de la belleza en lo sencillo, en lo ignorado, en lo invisible.

V — Verdad

Sin adornos, sin impostura. Atín buscaba y encontraba la verdad en cada mirada.

W — (Walter) Benjamin

Como el filósofo alemán, sabía que en cada imagen se esconde una historia por descifrar.

X — Xenoi

Los otros, los que no siempre son vistos. En su obra, todos tienen lugar.

Y — Yo

Aunque nunca se mostrara, su presencia es constante. Su mirada es su firma.

Z — Zurcido

Su obra cose los hilos rotos de la memoria popular. Teje una identidad que nos envuelve a todos.

Espiello 2025 #2: Memory, Cinema, and the Festival

Inhabiting Oblivion, Preserving Memory

For twenty-two years, Espiello has transformed the Sobrarbe region of the Spanish Pyrenees into a site of cinematic reflection, where ethnographic documentary serves as both a mirror and a bridge. This year’s edition, themed Memoria: Habitando el Olvido (Memory: Inhabiting Oblivion), invites audiences to engage with films that explore the fragility of cultural memory, the ways in which histories are preserved, erased, or reinterpreted, and how communities negotiate their pasts in the present.

Memory, as both a concept and a lived experience, is deeply tied to geography. The landscapes of the Pyrenees hold the echoes of oral traditions, historical migrations, and political struggles. At Espiello, these landscapes intertwine with cinematic narratives, reminding us that memory is not just about the past—it is an ongoing, dynamic process that informs identity, place, and belonging.

This year’s Espiello takes on new urgency as societies worldwide grapple with collective memory and the forces of historical amnesia. Whether through political upheaval, climate change, or urban transformation, communities are continuously renegotiating their relationship to the past. This year’s films serve as testimonies to that process, ensuring that voices, places, and traditions that might otherwise fade into obscurity remain present in the cultural consciousness.

As Sobrarbe welcomes filmmakers, anthropologists, and audiences once again, the festival’s imagined geography takes shape, offering a space where cultures connect through film, discussion, and shared experience.

 

The Imagined Geography of Espiello: A Festival as a Cultural Crossroads

Like previous editions, Espiello 2025 is more than a festival—it is a temporary village, a community built through storytelling. Over the course of ten days, Boltaña becomes a gathering point where the boundaries between local and global, past and present, dissolve. The festival functions as a living ethnographic space, where filmmakers from across the world bring their own landscapes and histories, mapping their experiences onto Sobrarbe’s mountainous terrain.

This ephemeral yet enduring sense of place is what makes Espiello unique. Unlike urban film festivals with sprawling venues and industry-driven programming, Espiello maintains an intimate, community-oriented atmosphere. The festival’s sections—Espiello Pirineos, Espiello d’Arredol, Anvistas, Falorias, and Cachimalla—reinforce a commitment to regional storytelling while connecting with global ethnographic cinema. In each screening and discussion, the festival becomes a meeting ground where different ways of knowing and remembering take center stage.

This year’s theme, Memory: Inhabiting Oblivion, deepens Espiello’s role as a site of historical reflection. What does it mean to inhabit oblivion? How do communities make sense of what has been forgotten or erased? These are not just questions for historians or anthropologists—they are questions for all of us, as individuals and as members of collective identities that are shaped by what we choose to remember.

 

Film Selections: Mapping Memory through Cinema

The official competition lineup features 16 carefully selected documentaries from nearly 500 submissions, each offering a perspective on memory’s role in shaping identity. These films span continents, cultures, and histories, but they are united in their exploration of how memory is woven into the fabric of everyday life.

Here are the selected films for Espiello 2025:

  • Atín Aya. Retrato del silencio – Spain

  • Sau: la memòria submergida – Spain

  • Cuando el mundo cambia – Spain

  • Jardin Noir – France–Belgium

  • TransUniversal – Spain

  • María la portuguesa – Spain

  • Mascarades – France

  • El estigma del silencio – Spain

  • Telles que nous sommes – France

  • Minga en Tenaún – Chile

  • Ropa sucia – Spain

  • (Re)pensant l’educació sexual – Spain

  • La jeune fille, les chouettes et les hommes lion – Chad

  • Un hombre sin miedo – Spain

  • Suharra – Spain

  • El arte de los analfabetos – Spain

  • Naharina – Spain–Syria

Each of these films presents a distinct vision of memory, whether through the landscapes that shape it, the voices that carry it, or the struggles to preserve it in the face of erasure.

The Siñal d’Onor Espiello will be awarded to the Asociación por la Recuperación de la Memoria Histórica de Aragón (ARMHA), recognizing their work in rescuing Spain’s forgotten histories. Meanwhile, Eugenio Monesma, a lifelong documentarian of Pyrenean traditions, receives the Siñal Mayestros, honoring his dedication to cultural preservation through film.

 

Beyond the Screen: Espiello as a Community-Engaged Festival

Espiello is not confined to the darkened theater. It extends into public discussions, artistic exhibitions, and educational workshops that turn the entire region into an immersive learning experience. Among the standout activities this year:

Theatrical Performance – “Olvido” by Biribú Teatro, a play that humorously unpacks the bureaucratic archiving of history, questioning what is remembered and what is left behind.

Exhibitions on Historical Memory curated by ARMHA, including Mujeres Republicanas. Un Sueño Frustrado (Republican Women: A Frustrated Dream) and Una Utopía Necesaria. La Educación en la II República (A Necessary Utopia: Education in the Second Republic).

Cine bajo las Estrellas (Cinema Under the Stars), where selected documentaries will be screened in small villages throughout Sobrarbe, reinforcing the festival’s rural and communal ethos.

Collaborations with the University of Madrid and Universitat Oberta de Catalunya, bringing students and scholars into direct dialogue with filmmakers.

The festival’s commitment to linguistic diversity is evident in the Espiello Agora x l’Aragonés section, celebrating films produced in Aragonese, a language that has fought against historical erasure. The screening of “Baitico, l’ombre-libro de la Valle Bielsa”, documenting one of the last native speakers of the Belsetán dialect, highlights the fragile yet resilient nature of cultural memory.

 

Espiello 2025 as a Living Archive

At its core, Espiello is an archive in motion—a living, breathing documentation of memory, identity, and place. In its twenty-second edition, the festival reaffirms its role as a custodian of intangible heritage, a space where cultures reflect on themselves and on each other through the lens of documentary filmmaking.

As audiences settle into the ochre and black seats of the Palacio de Congresos, the festival’s signature brass mortar sounds, signaling the beginning of another screening, another journey into memory. And for those who participate—filmmakers, scholars, and locals alike—Espiello is not just a festival. It is a communal act of remembering, a place where forgotten stories find voice, and where the past becomes an ever-present guide to the future.

Bienvenidos a Espiello 2025. Let the festival begin.

Espiello 2025 #1: Film, Place, and Cultural Geography

A Festival That Transforms Place

Each spring, in the heart of the Pyrenees, a film festival reshapes the small town of Boltaña into a space of cultural exchange. The Espiello International Ethnographic Documentary Festival is more than a showcase of films; it constructs an imagined geography—a village where filmmakers, scholars, and audiences engage in a shared exploration of human experience.

Since its inception in 2003, Espiello has positioned itself as a bridge between anthropology, filmmaking, and community storytelling. Its name, meaning “mirror” in Aragonés, reflects its function: a space where diverse cultures see themselves and others, engaging in a dialogue about representation, identity, and change. More than just an event, Espiello is an imagined place, a temporary village where cultural narratives are lived, exchanged, and remembered.

The transformation of Boltaña into Espiello reflects a broader pattern seen in temporary cultural geographies, where festivals momentarily reshape the meaning of a location. Just as other major festivals like Sundance or Sheffield DocFest generate alternative mappings of their urban and rural settings, Espiello reconfigures Sobrarbe as a center for cultural dialogue. Unlike large metropolitan festivals, however, Espiello’s impact lingers within a smaller, more intimate environment, where the community actively engages with the narratives it helps to host.

The Imagined Geography of Espiello

Place is more than location; it emerges from relationships, narratives, and lived experiences. Espiello exists beyond the stone walls of Boltaña, shaped by the collective imagination of those who take part. The festival organizers have crafted an imaginary village, mapping out symbolic roles and spaces that give Espiello an identity beyond the physical.

In this village, award-winning filmmakers become “mayors,” jurors serve as “council members,” and festival attendees actively shape the festival’s evolving story. The streets of this metaphorical town are named after past winning documentaries, and every edition of the festival becomes another layer in its growing history. Espiello is both real and symbolic, demonstrating how a cultural event transforms space into a meaningful, participatory geography.

The festival’s spatial dynamics resemble other forms of ephemeral place-making, where temporary events leave lasting impressions on landscapes. While major festivals create short-lived economic hubs, Espiello fosters a cultural memoryscape, a space where storytelling builds upon itself year after year. This approach positions the festival within the broader discussion of how cultural events generate a sense of belonging even in places where participants have no permanent ties.

 

Ethnographic Film as a Medium of Place-Making

Ethnographic documentaries do more than record cultures; they construct interpretations of place, identity, and belonging. The films shown at Espiello offer windows into the lived experiences of people across diverse landscapes, revealing more than their daily lives but the broader cultural, economic, and historical forces that shape them.

Through self-representation, Espiello challenges traditional ethnographic paradigms that have historically relied on outsider perspectives. Instead, the festival prioritizes films where communities tell their own stories, shifting the balance of representation and reinforcing the idea that place is not something to be observed from a distance but experienced and articulated from within.

This approach is significant in a world where cultural narratives are often shaped by dominant media industries. Espiello amplifies voices that might otherwise be overlooked, highlighting rural, Indigenous, and marginalized communities whose stories challenge mainstream assumptions about identity and change. The festival’s commitment to reflexivity ensures that ethnographic film remains a dialogue rather than a static representation, allowing both filmmakers and audiences to critically engage with questions of cultural authenticity and agency.

The role of ethnographic film in mapping cultural landscapes is crucial. The camera functions as an instrument of place-making, capturing and framing realities that are sometimes invisible to those outside of them. Many films presented at Espiello contribute to a collective visual archive, documenting how places evolve, how communities struggle and survive, and how identity is negotiated within changing environments.

 

The Local Impact of Film Festivals: Sobrarbe as a Case Study

Espiello is deeply rooted in the local geography of Sobrarbe. Film festivals, particularly those with an ethnographic focus, have the power to redefine the cultural and economic landscapes of the places that host them. For Sobrarbe, Espiello is more than an annual event—it is a catalyst for cultural engagement, education, and economic sustainability.

Unlike major urban festivals, Espiello brings high-caliber documentary filmmaking to a rural community, demonstrating that cultural events need not be confined to metropolitan centers. It offers an alternative model where film serves as a tool for rural development, bringing tourism, academic engagement, and local pride to an area that has historically been on the margins of Spain’s cinematic and cultural circuits.

Moreover, by integrating educational initiatives, community discussions, and exhibitions, Espiello extends its impact beyond the festival itself. Schools, local organizations, and residents become part of the dialogue, engaging with the themes and films presented. In doing so, the festival strengthens local identity while connecting Sobrarbe to broader conversations about ethnography, representation, and storytelling.

The festival’s impact extends to how Sobrarbe is perceived externally. Just as ethnographic documentaries help frame the cultural identity of distant places, Espiello shapes how the Pyrenean region is understood by audiences far beyond Spain. By curating films that explore not only Sobrarbe’s cultural landscape but also those of similar rural communities across the world, the festival contributes to a re-mapping of place in global cultural networks.

 

Espiello as an Evolving Cultural Geography

Espiello demonstrates that film festivals shape cultural landscapes, serving as spaces of exchange where identities are formed, histories are preserved, and new ways of belonging emerge. By constructing an imagined geography where filmmakers, audiences, and local communities intersect, Espiello expands the meaning of place itself.

It is more than a showcase of ethnographic documentaries; it is an active site where place is made through storytelling, shared experiences, and the ongoing dialogue between tradition and transformation. Espiello reminds us that cinema is not only about representation but about participation—about creating spaces where cultures are not merely observed but actively lived and understood.

For those who attend, Espiello is more than a festival in Sobrarbe. It is a village, a community, an experience—one that continues to grow, adapt, and reflect the world it seeks to illuminate. The imagined geography it creates does not vanish once the festival ends. It lingers in the minds of participants, in the continued dialogue between filmmakers and audiences, and in the evolving identity of the region itself.

The festival offers a model for how temporary cultural spaces leave lasting imprints, shaping the landscapes they inhabit and the communities that participate in them. Espiello, in its ephemeral yet enduring nature, is a testament to the power of film in shaping not only how we see the world—but how we belong to it.

Bridging Briet

Review of El Pirineo sin Briet 

by Ánchel Belmonte Ribas and Lise Laporte

In 2017, I walked for nearly forty days along the GR-11, the famed Transpirenaica footpath, tracing the Pyrenees on the Spanish side, end-to-end, from Irun to Cap de Creus. Alongside Sonia Ibáñez Pérez, I traversed the Basque Country, Navarre, Aragón, Andorra and Catalonia with the goal of reciprocating the longer five-month walk we completed along my own birthplace mountains–the Appalachians–back in 2013*. We were walking her mountains.  Walks were–and still are–our mode of inquiry, our way of knowing a place–albeit by making mere transect lines through both the complex human and natural landscapes and layers.  

The Transpirenaica walk left me wanting more of the Pyrenees—not just for the physical challenge but for the way it deepened my connection to its landscape and stories. Seven years later, now living in Sobrarbe in Alto Aragón, in the shadow of the Pyrenees and learning Aragonés, I’ve embarked on a new expedition—a deeper dive into the region’s human geographies and how they intersect with its wild beauty.

Reading El Pirineo sin Briet, by geologist Ánchel Belmonte Ribas and cultural expert Lise Laporte, feels like an extension of that journey—a next step in a way of seeing the Pyrenees not just as a place of physical challenge but as a shared cultural and natural treasure. This is a book that transcends time and disciplines. At its heart, it is a celebration of Lucien Briet, the early 20th-century photographer, writer, and explorer whose images and advocacy shaped how the Pyrenees are imagined, experienced, and, most crucially, conserved.

This book is an homage to Briet’s enduring vision, but it is also much more: it is a story of change, both in the landscape and in how we perceive it. It bridges art and science, memory and modernity, and asks us to consider what the Pyrenees mean in an age of unprecedented environmental transformation.

 

Lucien Briet: A Visionary and Advocate

For those, like me, who are relative newcomers to the Pyrenees, Lucien Briet (1860-1921) is both an anchor and a touchstone—a figure whose vision helps us understand the enduring allure of these mountains. Born in Paris, Briet was not merely a traveler but a pireneísta, a passionate student and lover of the Pyrenees. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, he ventured deep into the region, capturing its grandeur through thousands of photographs and detailed writings that revealed its cultural and ecological essence.

Briet’s photography opened the Pyrenees to audiences far beyond its summits and valleys, bringing alive a wilderness that might otherwise have remained invisible to ever-growing urban audiences. His artistry framed the mountains as places of significance—spaces deserving not only admiration but protection. Yet Briet’s impact went far beyond the photographic.  His 1913 book, Bellezas del Alto Aragón, chronicled explorations through Ordesa valley, along the Ara river, and into the Mascún canyon and Escoaín gorges, alongside iconic sites like the Peña Montañesa, the Marboré massif, and the Sierra de Guara.

Most notable, Briet was one of the earliest advocates for conservation, recognizing the risks posed by industrial expansion and unchecked tourism. His tireless efforts helped pave the way for the creation of Ordesa y Monte Perdido National Park in 1918—one of Spain’s first protected areas and a living monument to his legacy.

In El Pirineo sin Briet, Belmonte and Laporte center Briet’s work as both a cultural bridge and a moral imperative. They revisit the exact places Briet once photographed, offering not just comparisons but invitations to reflect on what has changed and what remains. By curating Briet’s vision alongside their own contemporary explorations, the authors remind us that landscapes—like heritage—are never static but require our active participation to preserve.

 

The Changing Landscape of the Pyrenees 

At the heart of El Pirineo sin Briet lies an exploration of the sweeping transformations that have shaped the Pyrenees over the past century. Drawing on Ánchel Belmonte’s geological precision and Lise Laporte’s cultural insights, the authors provide a multidimensional portrait of a landscape in flux. Each carefully curated chapter uncovers new layers of adaptation, resilience, and interconnected change.

The Pyrenees: A Stage of Change

The Pyrenees are presented as a dynamic stage where natural forces and human activities intertwine, shaping valleys, peaks, and rivers into evolving narratives. By tracing this interplay, the authors emphasize the mountains’ role as both a witness to and participant in centuries of change.

A Brief Recent Climatic History of the Pyrenees

Climate shifts over the last century have left their mark on the Pyrenees, from subtle changes in temperature to more pronounced shifts in precipitation patterns. These variations ripple through ecosystems, reshaping glaciers, altering vegetation, and redefining rivers. 

The Landscape That [Almost] Doesn’t Change

Some elements of the Pyrenees appear impervious to time—ancient rock formations and ecosystems that have withstood millennia. The juxtaposition of these constants with areas undergoing rapid transformation invites reflection: how long can these enduring features remain untouched in a world of accelerating change?

Summits and Slopes: Spaces of Transition

High-altitude zones of the Pyrenees, where life exists on the edge, emerge as fragile yet revealing spaces. Changes in vegetation creeping higher and signs of erosion accelerating point to the impacts of climate shifts even in these extreme environments.  Photographs of San Nicolás de Bujaruelo capture this convergence of natural and cultural landscapes. The medieval bridge over the Río Ara stands as a timeless testament to human connection with the mountains, inviting a deeper contemplation of the relationship between preservation and transformation.  The Transpirenaica crosses the bridge.  

Rivers: The Great Connectors

Rivers thread through the Pyrenean landscape, linking ecosystems, histories, and communities. Yet, human interventions—damming, sediment transport disruptions, and water management—have altered their flow and meaning. These waterways, once symbols of continuity, now also reflect the layered consequences of human impact.

Glaciers: The Great Change

The retreat of glaciers is portrayed through a powerful pairing of Briet’s stark historical photographs with vivid contemporary images. The resulting contrasts reveal not just loss but the interconnected nature of this transformation, impacting rivers, ecosystems, and cultural identity. Rather than reducing glaciers to symbols of despair, the authors use them to provoke reflection on resilience and responsibility. Their comparative methodology offers visual evidence of environmental change, transcending the oversimplified narratives often found in media discussions **.

 

A Visual and Multidisciplinary Dialogue

The pairing of Lucien Briet’s historical photographs with modern images taken from the same vantage points is one of the book’s triumphs. Belmonte’s precision as a photographer and geologist creates a “temporal map,” offering tangible evidence of change while evoking both awe and concern.   

Lise Laporte complements this with a cultural lens that highlights the significance of heritage and memory. Together, their collaboration transforms the book into more than an academic or artistic exercise—it becomes a meditation on time and place. The inclusion of detailed GPS coordinates invites readers to embark on their own expeditions, underscoring the book’s interactive spirit. This interactivity transforms the book into more than a static artifact—it becomes a guide for readers to engage actively with the Pyrenees, to follow Briet’s footsteps and create their own visual and emotional dialogues.

 

A Shared Geography

For me, El Pirineo sin Briet helps reframe the walk along the Transpirenaica–transporting me back but also beyond simple snapshots taken in 2017. The book visualizes the fact that geological change can happen in 7 years or 100, challenging this human geographer’s misinformed notion that all geomorphology is slow and ultimately fixed on a hard-to-count scale of eternal geological time.  Before this book, I didn’t yet know Lucien Briet, nor did I consider how much the Pyrenees had changed in the heavily industrialized 20th century. Reading this book deepened my understanding of the Pyrenees as a living, breathing landscape—alive with memory, shaped by history, and vulnerable to our choices.

The book’s final chapter, El Pirineo del Futuro (The Pyrenees of Tomorrow), leaves me asking:  In what ways do the historical transformations documented in this book guide future conservation efforts?  How are communities in the Pyrenees already adapting to ongoing changes, and how can their voices shape the region’s future?  What can the Pyrenees teach us about resilience, both ecological and cultural, in the face of global challenges?  Are there ways to reinvigorate sustainable practices that have been abandoned over time, such as traditional agriculture and herding, to harmonize human activity with environmental preservation?  How can the tools of art and storytelling, exemplified by this book, help us to cultivate a deeper, more empathetic relationship with changing landscapes?

The book provides no easy answers because that is not its purpose. The authors give us a map and coordinates and remind us that the exploration—and responsibility—is ours to undertake.

 

A Legacy of Imagination, Action, and Reflection

At its core, El Pirineo sin Briet is both a celebration and a challenge. It celebrates the enduring legacy of Lucien Briet, whose vision of the Pyrenees as spaces of awe, wonder, and significance laid the foundation for their conservation. His photographs and writings transformed the Pyrenees from remote wilderness into cherished cultural and natural heritage. Yet the book goes beyond mere celebration, challenging readers to confront the changing landscapes of the Pyrenees and consider their role in shaping the region’s future.

Belmonte and Laporte use Briet’s work as a foundation to explore the dynamic interplay of memory, change, and responsibility that defines these mountains today. Their ability to blend art and science, emotion and intellect, is one of the book’s greatest achievements. By juxtaposing Briet’s historical photographs with modern imagery, they transform abstract discussions of environmental change into something viscerally tangible: glaciers retreating, vegetation shifting, and rivers reshaped by time and human activity. Belmonte’s geological expertise anchors the narrative with scientific rigor, while Laporte’s cultural reflections infuse the story with historical and emotional depth.

Ultimately, El Pirineo sin Briet is more than a book; it is a time capsule, a scientific treatise, and a call to action. It reminds us of the fragility and beauty of the natural world while challenging us to reflect on our roles in shaping its future. Through Lucien Briet’s lens, Belmonte and Laporte rekindle our connection to the Pyrenees and inspire us to protect its enduring legacy.

As Fernando Pessoa’s epigraph reminds us, “What we see is not made of what we see, but of what we are.” El Pirineo sin Briet invites us to reflect on how landscapes—like the Pyrenees—not only reveal their essence but also shape who we are. In an age of climate uncertainty, there is no greater act of hope than imagining—and preserving—the futures we want for generations to come.

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*For more on the Appalachian Trail, listen to EPISODE TWENTY NINE: A Great American Pilgrimage (March 25, 2017) of Geographical Imaginations: Radio Expeditions into the Geographies of Everything and Nothing when we explore the 3500 kilometer walk from Maine to Georgia in the Eastern woods of the United States traversing the ridge-line of the oldest mountains in the world, the Appalachians. 

** For more on media representation in the age of climate change, listen to EPISODE FIFTY EIGHT: Poster Bear (November 23, 2019) of Geographical Imaginations: Radio Expeditions into the Geographies of Everything and Nothing.  This episode is the second part of a two-episode exploration of two polar bears—the one that travels along the ice and the other one that circulates in the media.