Ramón Jarque, tocaor

I have always found that photographing musicians is less about the performance and more about the moments in between — the quiet exchanges between player and instrument. In this portrait of Ramón Jarque, I wanted to strip away the spectacle and capture him in a state of private dialogue with his guitar.

The composition is simple, almost understated. I framed Ramón in profile, letting the lines of his arm and guitar neck lead the viewer’s eye diagonally across the image. The background, with its blurred wine bottles and textured wall, is just present enough to provide context without intruding on the intimacy of the moment. Depth of field is shallow, as it should be here — the focus rests squarely on his expression, which says far more than any posed gesture could.

Technically, the Fuji X-series’ rendering of skin tones and textures works in my favour. Exposure was kept on the softer side, avoiding harsh highlights that might flatten the detail in his face or the wood grain of the guitar. There’s a trace of noise in the darker areas — an unavoidable consequence of shooting indoors at higher ISO — but it adds a kind of unpolished honesty to the image that suits the subject.

Some might argue that a tighter crop could bring the viewer even closer to Ramón, but I deliberately kept breathing space around him. The slight gap allows for the suggestion of the music he is about to play, of air that still carries the anticipation of sound.

This is not a photograph of a man “performing” for the camera. It is, I hope, a portrait of presence — of a tocaor in his own quiet world, with the guitar not as a prop, but as an extension of himself.