Ole' !!!

While on a previously posted about trip to Spain, I had the opportunity while on the Costa Del Sol to attend a Bullfight. It was in the small, but beautiful Dali designed Corrida de Torros Rejonao plaza on the Mediterranean along the coast in the tiny town Estepona. A warm sunny day, I remember being both excited and pensive about attending this ancient sport. Excited to follow in the footsteps of a mentor, Ernst Haas in that I was having this photo opportunity, but anxious for the blood sport of it all.

In one of the earliest color photographs, Ernst was covering such a fight with this new film, Kodachrome, which carried an ISO/ASA that he related to me was about 8 to 12. He had previously only photographed in B&W as had all his contemporaries at the time. With such a slow film, he was concerned about shooting a moving subject and after giving it some thought, wondered whether if he moved the camera with subject, he could maintain some sharpness and instil motion at the same time. With this though, he literally invented the much used (think auto racing) and accepted technique of panning and produced this iconic photograph below. 

With this in my mind, I wanted to try and 'reproduce' the feeling that he had captured that day as I entered the stadium. Far from the grand Colosseum type to be found in Madrid, the arena was small and had an authentic little town feel. The band of 6 or so musicians belted out lively tunes as who I presumed was the local 'bullfight queen' was paraded into the ring. It was all a spectacle and was very fun. Eventually the main event arrived and as things unfolded, my reaction surprised me. Originally thinking I would be repulsed my a manipulated slaughter, I was really struck with the courage, bravado and sheer guts that the young, up and coming matadors displayed right in front of these massive ragging bulls. Together, it was almost as if the two of them worked in concert in this beautiful dance as again and again, the young man with the waving cape eluded the beast. At one point, in what I think was to show his lack of fear, in a quiet moment, the young man even knelt down in front of it, leaving me speechless and breaking the wild cheering shouting Ole' with each pass that I found myself caught up in most of the time, along with the Spanish crowd.

When it was all over, I followed everyone down and out via a tunnel under the seats and as I did so, they drug the dead animals right past me into a side room. Sensing a photo opportunity, I followed only to discover blood and guts everywhere as everything was being freshly butchered to give the meat to the local poor. Seeing this, I saw the 'sport' for what it was and for the provision it afforded some needy local folks. I was deeply moved at he entire day and was glad I went. My mind had been transformed by the experience.

I did not make any image like his that day, but later spotted this young boy on horseback who was part of the post parade that went out into the town,.. his face filled with pride and dreams of himself in the ring one day.

I think today of a time when I once I had his youthful enthusiasm in all of life and especially photography, but much of it has waned while wading through life's trials and worries. On further reflection now, oh, how I wish to once again capture the cheering optimistic outlook I had that day... today.