Paolo Woods: The Artistic Director of Cortona on the Move Festival
Paolo Woods is a critically acclaimed documentary photographer, filmmaker, and curator whose artistic journey delves into complex global narratives through the lens of his camera. As the author of eight influential books, his work is not only widely exhibited but also deeply respected in the realms of art collection and publishing.
Woods dedicates himself to extensive, long-term projects that dissect pivotal yet challenging subjects essential for understanding our contemporary world. Among his notable works are "A Crude World," which explores the pervasive impact of the oil industry; "Chinafrica", a detailed chronicle of China’s burgeoning influence in Africa; and "Walk on My Eyes," which offers an intimate glimpse into Iranian society. His project "STATE" examines the effects of state collapse on society, while "The Heavens" presents a groundbreaking photographic investigation into the secretive operations of tax havens.
In 2021, Woods ventured into filmmaking with "HAPPY PILLS", co-created with Arnaud Robert. This film, released in 2022, critiques how pharmaceutical companies market the concept of happiness to the masses, expanding his exploration of significant themes affecting modern life. Additionally, he serves as the artistic director of the "Cortona On The Move" photography festival, further cementing his role as a prominent figure in the global arts scene.
HM: Could we start by exploring how you initially became involved in photography?
PW: My passion for photography ignited when I was just 13. It was quite serendipitous. My older brother, quite the handsome fellow, began modeling and a family friend who was a seasoned photographer had just returned from the booming fashion scene in London photographed him for his portfolio. He set up a darkroom in our home. I remember vividly the moment I saw a photograph slowly emerge in the developer. That instant clarity about my future, knowing I had been struck on the road to Damascus!
HM: Fascinating. How did your early experiences shape your professional path?
PW: After that initial moment of awe, I plunged into the world of photography with an insatiable curiosity. In high school I was a bad student but I was absorbed in books about photography, chemistry, and optics. When I turned 18, I moved to London, Florence felt a bit small. I lived in a squat, did various odd jobs, and tried to absorb every facet of photography I could—from working as a studio assistant to handling technical duties in one hour Kodak photo labs.
HM: You’ve mentioned working with unconventional images early in your career. Can you elaborate on that?
PW: One of my initial roles involved sorting through images deemed ‘errors’ by others. These were photographs where something had gone amiss—perhaps a finger accidentally over the lens or a flash misfired against a mirror. Contrary to seeing these as mere mistakes, I found them extraordinarily compelling. They challenged the norms of perfection and captured raw, unfiltered moments that often told a more intriguing story than the 'perfect' images.
HM: After London, you returned to Italy. What motivated that move and what did you pursue there?
PW: Returning to Italy was a turning point. I joined a local lab, which I later purchased. I transformed part of the space into a gallery, one of the first contemporary photography galleries in Florence. This venture was about creating a platform for high-quality photographic prints, catering to museums, artists, and fashion houses. Concurrently, I continued my education informally, diving into literature, cinema, and art history, absorbing knowledge that would enrich my perspective as a photographer.
HM: How did your focus shift towards documentary photography, especially in conflict zones like Kosovo?
PW: That shift was unexpected but profoundly influential. I met a fellow photographer , who invited me to accompany him to Kosovo. It was my first exposure to a war-torn area, and it dramatically broadened my understanding of what photography could represent—beyond art, it was a powerful tool for documentation and storytelling. The story was not anymore on who was behind the camera but on who was in front. This experience pivoted my career towards documentary photography, eventually leading me to pursue projects across Iran, Afghanistan, and Africa.
HM: It seems you’ve managed to blend your photography with other interests in your projects.
PW: Photography for me is much more than just taking pictures; it's a language through which I explore and communicate what interests me, what worries me, what I want to understand. My projects have ranged from examining the oil industry to studying how tax havens work. Each project aims to encapsulate a narrative, turning complex, often abstract concepts into accessible visual stories. These projects always culminate in books and exhibitions, spreading knowledge and sparking discussions.
HM: Tell us about your role as Creative Director at the Cortona photography festival.
PW: My involvement with Cortana was quite unplanned. I’d been active in the festival for years, having shown there and often contributed a few ideas. One day, I was asked to envision the future direction of the festival, and my proposals were unexpectedly approved, landing me the role of Creative Director. In this role, I strive to make the festival a place where both people knowledgeable of the world of photography and the arts and the general public can find something that will touch them. Something necessary and sincere.
HM: Looking forward, what projects are you excited about?
PW: Recently, I've been part of a thrilling initiative to launch a new magazine that merges insightful text with powerful photography. This project is particularly close to my heart as it represents a blend of visual and narrative journalism. We aim to create a publication that respects the intelligence of its readers, offering them stories that are profound and beautifully presented, free from the clutter of advertisements. It is called Kometa.
HM: How did you transition from being a photographer to becoming an artistic director? It seems like a significant career shift.
PW: I did not transition. I am a photographer working on my own long term projects. But I have added a couple of strings to my bow. It certainly wasn't planned. My career has always been shaped by unexpected opportunities. Antonio Carloni, who was the previous director of COTM mentioned to me that they were looking for a new artistic director. I was perplexed because I’m a photographer, not an artistic director. Despite my hesitations, my suggestions during festivals seemed to have fallen on attentive ears. I had exhibited my work there, knew and admired the work of the previous director, Arianna Rinaldo, and over the years, I’d occasionally pitch ideas about artists and exhibitions that caught my eye.
HM: So, it was your active involvement and suggestions that led to this unexpected offer?
PW: Exactly. One day, they just asked me to jot down some ideas for Cortona’s future direction. I sent them a proposal, not realizing that it would be taken as an official application for the role. At that time, I was wrapping up a project called "Happy Pills," a five-year endeavor about relationships and chemistry. It was a grueling yet fulfilling experience.
HM: How have you adapted to this new role as an artistic director?
PW: I approached it with the same intensity I bring to my photography. Although I lack formal training in arts administration, my passion and curiosity have guided me. I’ve always been an avid consumer of photography. I aim to blend those perspectives to create a festival that appeals to everyone from the highly critical photographer to someone like my mother, who I often think about when I'm writing descriptions or pitches. Would she understand and appreciate it?
HM: That's an interesting approach. How has your vision been received so far?
PW: This year marks my third as an artistic director, and the feedback has been positive I think. The blend of perspectives seems to resonate with a wide audience, which was one of my goals.
HM: I understand you’re also involved with a new magazine project. Can you tell us more about that?
PW: Certainly. Recently, Serge Michel, whom I've worked with on various book projects, and Lena Mauger approached me to help launch a new magazine. It’s envisioned as a convergence of photography and narrative, aligning perfectly with my passion for integrating text and visuals. We’re currently working on our third issue. It's a 208-page edition, completely ad-free and independent, featuring some of the best writers and photographers out there. It’s a testament to our commitment to quality and independence at a time when the broader press is struggling.
HM: It sounds like both your roles allow you to innovate and influence the fields of photography and media profoundly.
PW: Each role feeds into the other, allowing me to explore the intersections of visual storytelling and textual narrative. It’s a challenging but incredibly rewarding nexus.
HM: Let’s start by discussing how photographers can engage with your festival. What opportunities exist for them?
PW: There are a couple of pathways for photographers to engage with the festival. One prominent way is through our annual award, the CORTONA PRIZE. It offers not only a monetary reward but also an invaluable opportunity for exposure. Winners get to showcase their work at the festival, which is a significant platform here in Italy. The competition is open to everyone globally—there's no entry fee or restrictions based on age, gender, or geography.
Our focus isn’t just on aesthetically pleasing images; we look for photographers who bring a strong narrative or thematic depth to their work. For example, this year we featured a project by last year's Bulgarian winner, which we also helped produce. This collaboration extended beyond just showcasing the work; it involved crafting an exhibition and integrating their project into a broader discourse, reflecting on themes relevant to contemporary society.
HM: And for those not participating in the prize?
PW: The festival is curated around a specific themes, which changes annually, that determines which works we select to display. We want the festival to say something. We're open to new and unseen work, not just established names or recent projects. For instance, we've highlighted works from decades past that find new relevance today. It’s about the message and the method, not the name behind the camera.
HM: How should a photographer best utilize their time at a festival?
PW: When attending a festival, I personally seek to be challenged and surprised rather than just reaffirming my existing tastes. Festivals should offer fresh perspectives and make you reconsider what you know about photography. At Cortona we strive to create experiences that are as thought-provoking and immersive as they are visually striking. We utilize unique spaces—from historical sites to unconventional environments—to frame each exhibition uniquely, making the physical experience of viewing each work as impactful as the images themselves.
HM: In an era increasingly dominated by digital platforms, how do you see Cortona adapting?
PW: Cortona was conceived in the digital age, so it's naturally positioned to address the evolving landscape of how we consume imagery. Our goal is to interrupt the passive consumption patterns enforced by digital media, encouraging a more engaged way of seeing. At Cortona, the physical context and the curation invite attendees to really look, not just see. Our setting often disrupts digital distractions, fostering a deeper connection between the viewer and the work. On a screen images are always the same size. Just even by playing with sizes, from wallpaper images covering large spaces to small intimate prints, the physicality of an exhibition is important. Also, with my team, we design each exhibition in accordance with the space. We could say that almost all we do in Cortona is site specific. In this way, Cortona acts as a counterbalance to the ephemeral nature of digital consumption, anchoring photographic art in both time and space.
HM: Is there something specific you would like to share with our readers, perhaps insights that you find compelling?
PW: My journey intertwines through three main areas: my personal work, the Cortona experience, and dialogues with photographers. I believe there’s no hidden message in my endeavors; my personal convictions and my deep-seated passions manifest through these activities. For me, it's about producing and discovering works that are both necessary and sincere. These qualities are fundamental. When a work achieves these, it has accomplished the critical aspects of meaningful art. It's about being genuine in your approach, creating something that resonates authentically with you, rather than merely appealing to a specific audience or moment in history. The 'necessity' in work refers to the compelling urge to communicate, whether through documentary, personal, or artistic expressions.
HM: Could you elaborate on how these principles translate into your own work, especially any current projects or interesting explorations?
PW: Currently, I’m developing a new project, still in its nascent stages, so there's not much I can reveal yet. However, a previous project, 'Happy Pills', holds a special place in my heart. It explores our complex relationships with the illusion of happiness and how we believe, or we have been taught, we can obtain it through chemistry, through pills . This project was a collaboration with Arnaud Robert where we carefully balanced textual and visual storytelling to craft a multifaceted narrative. From intimate portraits to journalistic reportage, including digital elements like social media screenshots, it represents for me a new approach to contemporary issues. It is also my first full length documentary film. Another ongoing endeavor is my work on 'Tax Havens', which continues to tour globally. Despite its completion years ago, its relevance endures, prompting continued interest and publication requests.
HM: It sounds like both 'Happy Pills' and 'Tax Havens' delve into intricate, perhaps underrepresented topics. How do you tackle these challenging themes visually?
PW: That’s precisely it. After shifting away from pure documentary and conflict photography, I was drawn to stories that weren't inherently photogenic—stories that don't naturally lend themselves to visual representation. There’s a richness in exploring such narratives, in finding innovative ways to visually articulate them. This shift was partly intuitive, a recognition of the many vital stories that remain untold because they challenge conventional visual translation. I see it as a crucial part of my role to bring these stories to light, pushing the boundaries of how we use photography to narrate and reflect our world.
HM: It’s clear that you embrace the challenge of depicting complex themes. How do you foresee the evolution of photography in addressing these less visible, yet significant stories?
PW: Photography must evolve to keep pace with our changing world. If it fails to adapt, it risks obsolescence. We need to challenge ourselves, to extend beyond the aesthetically pleasing, and engage with the real issues that shape our lives. By doing so, photography not only remains relevant but also enriches our understanding of the world. It’s about harnessing creativity to make the invisible visible, thus ensuring that photography continues to be a powerful tool for storytelling and social change.