So, how did I even stumble upon Erik Fernandez? It started when I kept seeing his name pop up while researching documentary photography for my street project. Dude never showed up in mainstream art classes, which got me curious. I grabbed coffee last Tuesday, fired up my laptop, and dived straight into the rabbit hole.
My Deep Dive Steps
First, I hit Google and typed “Erik Fernandez photography forgotten”. Total disappointment – just Instagram influencers and a tennis player. Switched to “Erik Fernandez social justice 1960s”. Bingo! Found a digitized archive from some community center in Chicago.
Spent three hours squinting at scanned newsletters where his photos first appeared. Realized this guy shot protests no one else dared to touch – like that meatpackers’ strike where cops beat protesters bloody. His images showed strikers’ kids sharing one apple while factory owners’ limos idled nearby. Raw stuff.
The Dark Room Revelation
Decided to recreate his darkroom approach yesterday. Used my grandpa’s old Hasselblad, loaded monochrome film. Tried his signature move – holding development 30% longer for deeper blacks. Damn near ruined five shots! Finally got it right on the sixth try when I shot homeless folks sleeping under neon signs. That extra grain made their exhaustion feel physical.
Biggest takeaways from my deep dive:
- He shot with whatever camera was stolen from him that week. No fancy gear worship.
- Published ONLY in local pamphlets. Never chased fame.
- Died broke in ’82. Landlord trashed 2,000 negatives.
Why he matters hit me when I printed my street shots. His work proves you don’t need museum validation to document truth. Those strikers’ kids? We’d never know their hunger without him. His photos scream that ordinary people’s lives count more than polished art world bullshit.
Now my project’s got new direction. Threw out all my “artsy” shots. If Erik’s ghost laughs at me while I chase garbage trucks at 4AM? Good. That’s the damn point.