Partial eclipse of photos

In 2019 the New York Times commissioned me to photograph the total solar eclipse in San Juan, Argentina — with only three days’ notice. Organising the trip in so little time was madness. A mixture of fear and excitement paralysed me. I remember I happened to have a magazine open beside me with the weekly horoscopes, and under Virgo it said: “unexpected travel proposals will come; this is a good time to leap into the unknown.” The clarity and speed of this signal from the universe helped me decide. Right away I remembered that my friend Fefo Bouvier, the astrophotographer, was going, so I decided to join his plan.

We travelled 26 hours by bus to get from Montevideo to San Juan.

Once there, we met a Canadian couple who had already witnessed several total eclipses — this was going to be their eleventh. That’s how I learned there are people who travel the world hunting eclipses, always wearing clothes with lunar or solar prints.

Until then I had worked mostly as an advertising photographer and had no experience capturing journalistic stories. My friend Fefo had been planning one particular photo he’d been imagining for months and, since I had no time to do my own research, I decided to follow him.

We chose the enchanted valley of Mogna, an attractive place for its rock formations and incredible textures. According to Marcelo, our guide, the only way in was a one-hour walk over quite rough, difficult terrain. We asked him specifically whether there wasn’t an easier way to get there, and he stated, without hesitation, that this was the only possible route.

Because during an eclipse night falls in a matter of seconds and afterwards you can’t see anything, it’s very hard to change camera settings or adjust the framing. These photos require being in the right place at exactly the right moment.

That’s why we went to our chosen spot the day before. We stayed until nightfall to get familiar with the terrain, work out where to point the cameras and check how it would look in the dark. We took the chance to make some night photos with the Milky Way shining and, when it got too cold, we began the exhausting walk back. It took us another hour to reach our beds.

The next day, at the entrance to the trail, a group of scientists refused to let us through, arguing they were taking important measurements. I began to doubt the cosmic wisdom of the horoscope — had it deceived me? Had all that planning been for nothing? I didn’t want to give up. So I summoned every tool I knew; I even talked about football (a subject that doesn’t interest me in the slightest).

In the end, what opened the doors was telling them I was working for the New York Times.

From there we went back along the same trail and, shortly after arriving, we saw a group of dozens of tourists advancing — among them an elderly man walking with a cane. I had to breathe several times to keep from exploding at the evidence that there clearly was an easier path. Luckily, Marcelo was already walking towards the top of the mountain where he was going to model for the photos.

Thirty minutes before totality, the light began to change and an absolute silence fell. Close to the awaited moment the air cooled rapidly, and a beautiful silvery light appeared, similar to a sunset but with a bluer tone. I witnessed hues I had never seen before. The wind rose in whirls of sand. My skin prickled and I felt my heart beat faster; my body was trembling.

With so many strong emotions, photographing became harder and harder. The darkness lasted two marvellous minutes. I managed only three photos of Marcelo beside the sun.

I had just lived one of the most intense experiences of my life — and at the same time I hadn’t achieved my photographic goal.

On the way back I kept wondering whether any photo had come out in focus. When I was able to download the images, I confirmed there was good material. The unexpected part was that I couldn’t upload them before the deadline, because the wifi had gone down in the little town where we were staying.

The challenge, in the end, was integrating the happiness of having witnessed such a moving event with the disappointment of not having done my job as I had hoped. Although my photos weren’t published in 2019, I was delighted to discover that yesterday the New York Times published one of them on its Instagram.

The images I made don’t come close to conveying what I felt witnessing a total solar eclipse. But the experience helped me understand why eclipse hunters exist — and that I could easily become one.

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