Marisol Mendez and Federico Kaplan document the impact of the climate crisis on the Colombian Wayuu people

Historically, documentary photography has had an unsavoury divide between: the photographer and the subject, the privileged and the marginalised, and published snapshots and the realities of everyday life. Treated almost like a sport, photographers (typically from the West) would take their cameras all over, advancing their careers with little to no care for their representations of individuals, communities or entire cultures. But today, we are witnessing a reclamation of these narratives, in a complete overhaul of the photographic process and divide. One of the latest and greatest examples is Marisol Mendez and Federico Kaplan’s Miruku, jointly commissioned by WaterAid and British Journal of Photography.

Marisol and Federico first met at a course for photobook development at PHMuseum in Italy, and fostered a bond due to their similar life experiences. “We started sharing our work with each other for feedback and started to get the idea of a joint project,” Marisol tells us. They soon started work on their first collaboration Cadaveres Exquisitos, seeking to reframe their continent – South America – photographically, before hearing about an open call at The British Journal of Photography on the climate change crisis. “The issue touched us both in a deeply personal way, since both of our countries of origin have these very same problems and polluted water sources, so we decided to apply.”

Throughout their documentations, the photographers have a special approach to revealing personal narratives, most striking in a series of diptychs, sometimes pairing black-and-white and colour photographs. “We were surprised to be selected, because the style isn’t traditional, it’s rarely seen in the genre.” In Miruku, they continue on this unorthodox method, sharing the impacts of the climate crisis (and subsequent water shortage) on the Wayuu, the indigenous population from La Guajira. This time, there is a deliberate pairing of community portraits and close-up shots of the land, accentuating the connection between Wayuu people and the coastal desert; South Americans and land; and people and natural resources.

And, although they coincided ideologically, Marisol says that their practices “couldn't have been more different”. First starting their collaboration through video calls, they began constructing their figurative and abstract approach, to achieve a certain balance. “The good thing was that, before going to Colombia, we were able to spend a couple months together in Argentina [...] We found that we both enhanced each other’s skills, when we put our heads together, we found our styles interacted in this exciting way,” Marisol adds. Federico typically shoots black-and-white still-life images, which explains his gravitating more towards still or non-sentient scenes. A pensive portrait of a woman against a corroding background; a drying stream of water surrounded by drying leaves and land; and a dog sleeping in the sand almost too peacefully. But, Marisol rather focuses on commanding scenes in her work – all in colour – bringing interaction and cultural expression to the fore. But, throughout the series, their styles begin to intertwine, making it difficult to tell who took what.

Marisol and Federico admit that the process of documentation can be rather tricky. “It [explaining the concept for the project] isn’t always an easy conversation, a lot of people know what you are here for and they don’t like it, some even want nothing to do with it. That’s why it’s always about respect for us, to let the other know that we see them as a person and care to represent them truthfully,” Marisol shares. This is why the duo – although they value emotion and intuition when working – engage in a period of research, with books, articles, documentaries and video pieces, that marry their approach as cinephiles. “It reduces some of the uncertainty and helps us to better understand their context. I typically speak to experts who ground and challenge my ideas too.”

Now, months after winning the Sony World Photography Awards for their work, Federico is back in Buenos Aires, nurturing his filmmaker roots, shooting short films and music videos, and Marisol is working on her ongoing personal project Padre, interrogating the ways that masculinity is constructed and performed. But it’s hard to stop being captivated by the beauty of this series, found largely in its purposefully contrasting aesthetic. Each photograph lends a unique perspective into the villages and way of life, encouraging us as viewers to expand upon our knowledge of climate crisis’ impact on the Wayuu people, and indigenous communities all over. Which makes Miruku an open book that we shouldn’t close.