Sofie Vasquez
Sofie Vasquez (b. 1998) is an Ecuadorian documentary photographer born and raised in The Bronx, New York. Her artwork explores the mediums of photography and filmmaking to create long-term projects focusing on narratives about identity, community, and culture.
Dawoud Bey has said, “I make the work that I do in order to visualize the things that are important to me, and to make them matter to someone else.” If that’s one of the goals a photographer and artist should aspire to then Sofie Vasquez has succeeded tremendously with her compelling documentation of the indie wrestling scene. The wrestlers in this subculture are hugely passionate about wrestling, and Sofie matches their passion and commitment with documentation that captures not only the energy, blood, sweat, and tears of the wrestling matches, but also the excitement and interaction of the wrestlers with the fans, and, in some of my favorite photos in this body of work, the quiet, casual, and just plain fun behind-the-scenes moments that really help to humanize these stars, heroes, and villains of the wrestling ring. These are folks with big personalities, and Sofie’s images put those personalities and people on film with great love and respect.
I asked Sofie to tell us about her journey in photography, and how she got involved in documenting the wrestling scene:
Ironically enough, I wanted to be a filmmaker as a kid. My father was a film student in college when I was a toddler so I remember growing up surrounded by his books about cinema and always going to Whitestone Cinemas in the Bronx. So in my senior year of high school, I took video production and studied film history when suddenly, I found myself enjoying taking pictures instead of filming on the Canon camera we had for class. It was so addicting that I checked out the camera without permission every Friday to take it to concerts I was attending on the weekend - alongside video, I also had goals in becoming a music journalist so I would find my way into The Studio at Webster Hall or the Knitting Factory, and ask the booked photographers there if they had a moment to show me how to operate the camera.
And from there, that’s where the explosion of photography happened - it began with me exploring specific subcultures and discovering the photographers of their respective scenes. CJ Harvey, a film photographer from Pennsylvania who toured with my favorite indie bands, was my first favorite photographer before I knew who “the greats” were. Their work was my first introduction to documentary photography - to have a body of work following people who fascinated and inspired you. And at seventeen to nineteen, I had my sights set on being a music photographer because I loved music and the culture, so I started taking photography classes in community college and this is kind of where everything began to fall into place. I took Intro to Documentary, Narrative, and Photojournalism in my second year of community college (Thank you Prof. Towery) and I simultaneously began taking black and white film photography classes at ICP at The Point - I always credit and thank the community for teaching my photography. The community of music photographers who gave a dumb seventeen year old’s ramblings a chance of day, the teachers and teaching assistants pushed me when I got comfortable, and even the community of photographers who are my friends and colleagues today. Actively, we root for each other and lend aid, assistance, or just creative ramblings for us photographers.
I’ve been a wrestling fan since I was a kid. Ohioan wrestler Dean Ambrose was my hero. I once broke my arm trying to do an elbow drop, and at sixteen, there was a genuine interest in becoming a wrestler if I had found the right school. Wrestling is a chaotic and insane subculture that holds a sincerity to me, the same way it has for not only the wrestlers but for anyone who was once a wrestling fan. Since 2018, I have been a photographer in independent professional wrestling. At 19, I found it in a gym in the South Bronx, a mere 15 minutes from my home. From 2020 till 2021, I traveled with wrestlers across state lines to document their hustle, sacrifice, and commitment to this industry. It all began with my grandparents driving me to Atlantic City to go witness a wrestling death match by the beach. Then I went back on a coastal city bus, and soon those seats were replaced for cramped back seats in tiny packed cars going hundreds of miles out into the Midwest.
The life of an indie wrestler equates to that of a rock'n'roll star on tour, minus the unlimited budget provided by a record label. If you started training early, like most at 16, this is all you know and because this is all you’ve known, you’re willing to sacrifice everything for it. I’ve seen men without insurance collide their scarred bodies against light tubes, barbed wire, and doors on fire. I’ve been on 12 hour plus car rides for a one night only gig that could be a make it or break it opportunity. I’ve seen broke men, women, and non-binary athletes been stiffed on pay after they broke their bodies out in the ring. Yet, despite the shortcomings that would follow around anyone who is in pursuit of their dreams, I’ve been moved to tears by a crowd’s roar when a wrestler walks through that curtain. State to state, I've traveled with them with the intent to not only document their adventures to capture the friendships, the Americana, the glamor, and the hard work. All of the layers of professional wrestling that are wrapped into the lives of people I’ve deemed not only as my friends but as my biggest inspiration. I’ve tentatively dubbed this body of work Almost Famous: An Indie Wrestling Diary, and it completes a deep but intimate, understanding portrayal of indie wrestling and those involved in its world.
2022 is a full circle moment - I’m making a film about wrestling. The photographer finally learns how to film and edit like how I had anticipated all those moons ago but I’m superstitious and believe in perfect timing. I had to fall in love with photography first to truly enjoy, understand, question, study, and accept filmmaking, they’re not that far apart. They’re practically siblings. And because I like to overwork, I’m working on a book. Also about wrestling. Consider it the perfect bow to a long-term project - I’m not leaving wrestling but I want this hard work chronicled in a tangible body of art I can share with everyone. There are other projects - I’m thinking roller derby, boxing, demolition derby, and horror conventions - I want to sink my teeth into, in 2022.
My genuine advice to a photographer is - fall in love with the process. Trust your gut, trust your story, trust yourself and your vision and your choices, and whatever path you take in photography - whether it be journalism, editorial, experimental, documentary, fine art, or just a little mix of the in-between - always find yourself wanting to do it all over again. Breaks are ok, remember that burnout is very real and you taking a pause to step away or even step out of your comfort zone is going to be the best decision for yourself and even your art. Believe in what you’re doing, but also leave some room to learn. Photography is still pretty young alongside the other mediums of art - make a cyanotype, be vulnerable in front of the lens and take self-portraits, try a point-and-shoot or a 4x5 camera, take a continuing ed or after school class if you can afford it.
I once overworked myself so much I didn’t touch my camera until I had gigs. And sure, I did the work, and I had fun. But it was temporary and felt stale - I had to say “fuck it”, buy a roll of film and take my film camera on my errand run and just shoot what I saw and what I liked. Not for a long-term story or project, it doesn’t always have to be project-oriented or for an assignment, don’t forget to shoot for yourself.
Follow Sofie Vasquez on Instagram: @bullsinthebrnx, and check out her other bodies of work on her website here.
Pre-order a copy of her 2021 wrestling zine Estoy En Mi Peak here.
Photo at top of post: Self Portrait, in quarantine, 2020. © Sofie Vasquez
↓ ↓ ↓ All Photos in this post © Sofie Vasquez ↓ ↓ ↓
Brooklyn native Big Game Leroy makes his debut in San Antonio, Texas, 2021. © Sofie Vasquez
Brooke Valentine at her Mania Week debut in Tampa, Florida, 2021. © Sofie Vasquez
Holidead defeats Kaia McKenna at the Voltage Lounge in a 24 hour wrestling show, 2021. © Sofie Vasquez
Canadian wrestler Jody Threat at the Amvet Hall in Yarmouth, Maine for Limitless Wrestling, 2021. © Sofie Vasquez
MV Young in Texas, at Heavy Metal Wrestling, 2021. © Sofie Vasquez
Weber Hatfield and Big Dan have an 80s montage moment in a barn in Pennsylvania, 2021. © Sofie Vasquez
PB Smooth and Dominic at Enjoy Wrestling, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. 2022 © Sofie Vasquez
Sofie Vasquez (1998) is an Ecuadorian documentary photographer born and raised in the Bronx, New York. Her artwork explores the communities within subcultures through a personal perspective and has been featured in The New York Times, exhibited at the Bronx Museum of the Arts, the Bronx Documentary Center, the Ecuadorian-American Cultural Center, The Clemente Soto Vélez Cultural and Educational Center, the Shirley Fiterman Art Center, the DGT Alumni Association Gallery House, Photoville and En Foco Inc.
Sofie is an alumnus of the International Center of Photography's Community Fellows, and is a part of the first graduating class of the fellowship, 2018-2020. She was a student at The City College of New York until the COVID-19 pandemic forced her to pause her studies. She is currently a Bronx Documentary Center Films Fellow and a freelance traveling documentary photographer.
Website: sofievasquez.squarespace.com Instagram: @bullsinthebrnx
⇣⇣⇣ Next Profile: Raphaël Gaultier ⇣⇣⇣
Raphaël Gaultier
Raphaël Gaultier is a self-taught freelance portrait and documentary photographer from Seattle, WA currently based in Brooklyn, NY working across a variety of genres to capture the intimacies of daily life. His work is concerned with the concept of home, whether that’s found in spaces, people or objects that speak to who we are.
When I look at Raphaël Gaultier’s photographs I feel like I’m seeing the kinds of images that come into being when a photographer is trusted to be present for gestures of simple intimacy or moments of quiet vulnerability. They’re not found images, they’re revealed images - pictures that emerge over time in light the way landscapes emerge underneath a rising morning sun.
In our often anxious and uncertain times, I appreciate the thoughtful beauty and presence of his images more than ever. I asked Raphaël to tell me a little about his journey in photography:
For a long time growing up I always thought of myself as the least creative in my family. I want my work and my journey to be a testament to others that anyone can pursue something they’re passionate about if they put in the time with their craft. I had no photography education growing up - it wasn’t until midway through college that I picked up a camera to start taking pictures after I tore my ACL playing sports. It was that necessity to express myself when I wasn’t able to do the things I love that helped shape me into the photographer I am today.
Oftentimes, what I’m trying to express in my work is to look at everyday things and occurrences and appreciate them for what they really are. My world revolves around the people I spend my time with and the places I habitually venture, and I want my work to be a representation of the comfort that comes from our everyday routines. There’s an intimacy I often capture in my work that I think shows the kind of upbringing I had. I’m glad my work and who I am are so closely tied - it feels authentic to the stories I’m trying to tell.
I prefer to shoot on film because it slows down my entire process for each photo I take. The speed at which artists are expected to produce, share, interact with, brainstorm, and improve on their work is highly unsustainable and leads to less thoughtful work. My work and my process is focused on doing the opposite of that. By using a medium format camera and meticulously scanning in each photo I take, I’ve slowed down my process to care for each step in the process. I’ve found that being more intentional with the ways I work in medium format has helped me become a more thoughtful photographer when I pick up a digital camera as well.
The speed at which photographers (as well as other artists) are expected to produce and share work is something I think is completely backwards in the industry. I’d like to see more thoughtful, long term projects that are backed by brands and publications that have the finances to support independent artists. I think we’d see a big difference in the industry’s mentality to constantly pump out work, and the quality of meaningful work that would arise out of it. I hope there will be things that help address this problem of overwork in the photographic community in the years to come.
Follow Raphaël Gaultier on Instagram: @raphgaultier.
Photo at top of post: Self-portrait
↓ ↓ ↓ All Photos in this post © Raphaël Gaultier ↓ ↓ ↓
Kat and Noah, Seattle, WA. 2021 © Raphaël Gaultier
Helen, Seattle, WA. 2020 © Raphaël Gaultier
George and Miguel, Seattle, WA. 2021 © Raphaël Gaultier
Ophelia, Seattle, WA. 2020 © Raphaël Gaultier
Soft Light, Portland, OR. 2020 © Raphaël Gaultier
Funeral, Maui, HI. 2021 © Raphaël Gaultier
Raphaël Gaultier is a self-taught freelance portrait and documentary photographer from Seattle, WA currently based in Brooklyn, NY working across a variety of genres to capture the intimacies of daily life. His work is concerned with the concept of home, whether that’s found in spaces, people or objects that speak to who we are. His work has been featured in i-D magazine, Pitchfork, The Nation, The Seattle Times, as well as several other books and publications. Raphaël has worked as the co-founder and editor of Human Condition magazine, a publication centered around providing resources and uplifting young artists in Seattle, as well as Associate Creative Director of Seattle-based retailer LIKELIHOOD. He’s been freelancing as a photographer since 2020.
Website: raphaelgaultier.com Instagram: @raphgaultier.
⇣⇣⇣ Next Profile: Cat Byrnes ⇣⇣⇣
Destiny Mata
I love when photography holds the energy, emotions, and dynamism of the people or scene being described. I love photography that documents underground or underrepresented scenes - worlds that I might not know if I didn't have a photographer guiding me through them. I love photography that shows us places or people involved in creative resistance to the forces of conformity and homogenization. I love photography that celebrates new possibilities. Destiny Mata's work checks all these boxes and more.
I love a million different kinds of photography, but there are some kinds of photography that check more boxes for me than others. I love when photography holds the energy, emotions, and dynamism of the people or scene being described. I love photography that documents underground or underrepresented scenes - worlds that I might not know if I didn't have a photographer guiding me through them. I love photography made by insiders. I love photography that shows us places or people involved in creative resistance to the forces of conformity and homogenization. I love photography that celebrates new possibilities. Destiny Mata's work checks all these boxes and more, so needless to say, I love Destiny Mata's photography. I asked her to tell me about her journey in photography, and the years of work she packed into her big new book The Way We Were, which documents the alternative Punx of Color scene around all five boroughs of NYC:
“Coming from a family of photographers I’m deeply inspired by my grandfather Luis Mata who was a weekend wedding photographer and my aunt, fashion photographer Chayo Mata. May she rest in peace. Chayo’s passion and love for photography was contagious. Witnessing her vision, drive, and hustle influenced me and my work. I remember my freshmen year I took a photojournalism class at LaGuardia Community College where I learned about photographers like Mary Ellen Mark, Diane Arbus, Susan Meisalas, Arlene Gottfried, and the list goes on. Once I was introduced to documentary photography I was hooked. After taking the class I knew I wanted to focus on finding my voice. What better way than flipping the camera on myself and my life experiences.
“The camera has been a therapeutic and healing outlet for my creativity and values - used to voice societal resistance, preserve my cultural heritage, and rebut stereotypes. My work, which encompasses both photojournalism and documentary film, explores issues including the ongoing struggle for racial justice and economic hardship in low-income public housing where I grew up. The past eight years I’ve immersed myself in New York City’s underground Punx of Color music scene. Through this ongoing photo series, I’ve connected with a community of musicians, artists, and activists. When NYC went into lockdown due to the pandemic I had the time to dive in and look back at all the shows I attended. I always envisioned making a zine. The opportunity to make a photo book with publisher Debra Scherer, founder of The Culture Crush came to fruition creating a massive 380+ page book called The Way We Were. The process of editing six years of shows was difficult. I had never edited anything of this magnitude. It was truly a community effort with illustrations by Daisy Ruiz who made a comic strip about going to a show at La Jungla in the Bronx. It was important for me to interview and hear directly from the bands, to the organizers, collectives, and folks who attended the shows. You can learn more about The Way We Were here: https://www.theculturecrush.com/culture-crush-editions/the-way-we-were
“My mission is to make photos that share a powerful story and thought-provoking message with the world. I believe there is incredible power and strength when we collectively collaborate with one another to make change for a better future. “
Follow Destiny Mata!
Photo at top of post: Self Portrait © Destiny Mata
↓ ↓ ↓ All Photos in this post © Destiny Mata / @destiny.mata ↓ ↓ ↓
In the mosh pit during a Punx of Color show at Silent Barn. Bushwick, Brooklyn © Destiny Mata
Portrait of Quinn at a Punx of Color show. Silent Barn, Bushwick, Brooklyn © Destiny Mata
ABISM performs at Forsyth Plaza. Chinatown, New York © Destiny Mata
Portrait made at Bronx Art Expo benefit show organized by Bronx Collective Hydr0punk. Brooklyn, New York © Destiny Mata
Mosh pit bondfire during Dead City Punx show at East River Park Bandshell. Lower East Side, New York © Destiny Mata
Portrait of Weasel at a Punx of Color show. Silent Barn, Bushwick, Brooklyn © Destiny Mata