Sofía López Mañàn is a storyteller first, a photographer second. ‘I think photography is just an excuse,’ she laughs. ‘I’m curious. It’s the stories I fall in love with. Collecting them is what really drives me. When I travel somewhere with a camera, it’s an easy excuse to stay for an extra five hours.’ Originally a performance artist, Sofía never planned on becoming a photographer – now she finds herself travelling the world with her camera.
That appetite for stories is matched by an equal thirst for adventure, a dangerously beautiful pairing. ‘I love being in the middle of the mountains with no internet, no connection, no light, nothing,’ she says, reflecting on the transformation she witnesses in her fellow explorers. ‘It’s just amazing to see a group of people, all from different backgrounds, shed their usual identities.’
Sofía’s work has long been tied to environmental storytelling. Her journey into conservation photography began when she was hired to document the closure of Buenos Aires Zoo. ‘I thought it was going to be like Noah’s Ark. That wasn’t the case. Relocating the animals to sanctuaries was a massive undertaking. I started working with biologists, ethologists and veterinarians, getting deeply involved in conservation projects.’
That experience led her to the Andean Condor Conservation Program, a cause she has been involved with for eight years. Her latest series of images continues this work. ‘Crossing the Andes has been a lifelong dream. Out there, you’re in touch with something far bigger than yourself. Those places for me are places to measure our size in the world. You feel so small.’
For someone who thrives on meticulous research, this journey was an entirely different creative challenge. Normally, a lot of research goes into my images beforehand. I become obsessed with learning everything. I build my stories around a wealth of information, it’s conceptual photography. But here, I couldn’t plan anything, not the timing, not the light. I had to let go.’
Sofía, a self-confessed control freak, had to sit back and let fate take the reins.
Quite literally. Rojo, her travel partner, was a beautiful palomino horse. For six days, she rode him for nine hours daily, navigating near-impossible terrain. ‘You have to put all your trust in the horse. Even if you’ve ridden your whole life, this requires a different kind of mental grit. But when you build that bond, it’s incredible. When you’re walking you have to look down to where you’re stepping but to be able to walk with your eyes and not your limbs, just for a while, is amazing.’
One of her favourite shots came from this relationship. ‘There’s one image that looks effortless,’ she recalls. ‘The guide turned to me and said, “We’re about to go up one of the steepest hills in the mountains. Don’t tell anyone, people get scared.” Then he asked if I wanted to take a picture.’
Of course, she said yes.
‘To get the shot, I had to lie almost completely vertical on Rojo while he clawed his way up the loose stones. First, I photographed everyone else. Then I had to make the climb alone.’
That moment, like the entire journey, was a lesson in surrender. In trust. In letting go of control to let the story unfold.
By Farah Thorndycraft, a London-based writer with a focus on luxury lifestyle
