A few months ago, I started a film club at the bookstore El Desastre called Leer La Imagen. It’s been a really fun way to watch films again surrounded by people and to talk about the movies we see.

What did you learn (or unlearn) while working on them?
Not everything is about narrative. Even though cinema (and photography) are powerful tools for telling stories, I think their true strength lies in their ability to ask questions. As in a haiku, the content of a photograph is minimal. We don’t know the context, the smell, or the circumstances that led to the creation of the image. As viewers, it’s up to us to fill in that information. In that way, one image becomes a thousand when a thousand people see it.

What words, ideas or emotions were going through your head?
Trying to evoke a feeling rather than tell a story. Treating photography like a mirror in which what is reflected isn’t necessarily where I am, but who I am and what I feel.

Were there any conversations, movies, music, or books that made their way into that work?
There’s a poem by Nezahualcóyotl that repeats the line: “Not forever on earth, only a little while here.” This has been on my mind in recent years. Everything is ephemeral—we have to live each day.

What's been the most difficult thing you've faced recently in your creative process?
I feel like the classic person with ADHD who wants to do everything at the same time. My desk is a reflection of those thoughts jumping from one place to another without stopping. Yes, I’m writing my thesis on Kiarostami, but at the same time I’m planning the next cycle for the film club, and at the same time I’m on eBay buying another analog camera, and at the same time I’m watching a Champions League match. Finding the discipline and time to truly do things consciously is something I struggle with a lot.

What is your favorite restaurant and what do you recommend we order?
Right now I’m obsessed with the tacos from Los Consentidos del Barrio. I love that there’s also a whole lore about two brothers fighting over who would keep the taquería, since it split off from Los Picudos just a few blocks away.

I recommend ordering a volcán with your favorite meat and the special salsa. They don’t offer it right away, but it’s a well-known secret among regulars. I’ve been going there to eat for more than twenty-five years.

If your life were a movie this month, what would it be called and who would write the soundtrack?
The film would be called Thirty-Three: The Age Jesus Died. It’s been a rough start to the year; January is always strange because it’s my birthday. The year begins and I’m immediately feeling existential. This one in particular has been very stressful, so I feel like the soundtrack would have to be by Daniel Lopatin, because of the frantic rhythm he’s created in things like Uncut Gems and, more recently, Marty Supreme. I wish my life were calmer so it could be music by Ichiko Aoba, but for now that’s not possible.

Recommend one or more artists you follow who inspire you, and tell us what you like most about their work or their way of working.
I have an affinity for Asian directors. I’m constantly revisiting the work of Yasujiro Ozu . Even though he died 63 years ago, his films always feel current. A more contemporary filmmaker who I feel really shaped the way I see cinema is Edward Yang. Yi Yi is one of the most beautiful films that exists because of its honest portrayal of a family in a changing city like Taipei at the end of the 1990s. If you can watch it, you won’t regret it.

Revelado y escaneado por Ático Film Lab.

César Torres Cuevas

I’m passionate about cinema, words, and images. I currently work as a producer for an airline, and sometimes I teach editing and photography. Soon I’ll premiere my first short film, Negative Space.

www.instagram.com/cefesafar/

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