Written by: Janna Dotschkal
Photo by Martin Usborne
Faced with the plight of the Spanish Hound, photographer Martin Usborne fell into a deep uneasiness. According to Usborne, at the end of each hunting season, 100,000 hounds are eliminated, abandoned, or even killed in pursuit of speed and agility, either aged or too slow. To get attention, Usborne spent two years photographing them, in areas where they were abandoned and killed, such as roadsides, canyons, rivers and parking lots.
Although some dogs have saved their lives, shock and fear are their lingering nightmares. According to a rescue organization, there are two most common types of such dogs: the galgo (also known as the Spanish Lingti) and the Ibiza Hound (podenco), which are often starving, locked in small dark houses, and even running has become a luxury. I got in touch with Usborne and asked about the progress.
Most of the rescued dogs are in a fairly bad condition, severely malnourished and extremely debilitating.
JANNA DOTSCHKAL: What inspired you to work on this project?
MARTIN USBORNE: I spent a year traveling the world in search of the little animals that I might be able to rescue, and recently I was writing a book about the bittersweet and bittersweet on the way, and these dogs I met in Spain were part of it, they originally had royal blood, elegant appearance, strong bodies, symbols of nobility, but now they were abused and abandoned in groups, and the contrast was confusing, and I said to myself, I had to do a photography project for them.
Above: A rescued high-brother Spanish dog.
Below: In February, the end of the hunting season, many dogs drown in the river, as in Andalusia.
JANNA: Which dogs would you choose to shoot?
MARTIN: I pick dogs that are contradictory, dogs that are both royal but extremely fragile, elegant but scarred, proud and nervous, and dogs with a variation in population or skin color.
JANNA: How did you find them?
MARTIN: I work mainly in two rescue centers in Andalusia, one of which is large and the other small, but very efficient in rescuing dogs and arranging a new home for them. In the face of growing abusers, rescuers can only rely on donations from all walks of life and well-wishers who are willing to take in dogs.
At a rescue centre on the outskirts of Málaga, a tall Spanish dog is waiting to be adopted by a well-wisher.
JANNA: These dogs have good photo poses, how do you do it?
MARTIN: Most of the time, I don't want them to pose, and it's hard to do. They are tortured, fearful, suspicious, always restless, and I don't have much time left for each dog to shoot, much less ask too much to cause them to be overly nervous. But I also hope to be able to film them with some discomfort and anxiety so that I can convey the real narrative effect. A seemingly perfect calm posture isn't necessarily a good choice. Usually there are other participants, and I like the volunteers who know the dogs, and they have a way to make the dogs in front of the camera more stable, otherwise I would have to make the dogs appear on camera.
Above: A large canyon in southern Spain where a hound was found to have been abandoned;
Below: A rescued tall Spanish dog.
JANNA: What kind of footage do you want to capture?
MARTIN: My photography references the style of the Spanish painter Velázquez, who happened to be where Velázquez lived and worked, and in his time these dogs were still symbols of royalty and nobility. Although he doesn't often paint dogs, the tension and drama in his paintings is exactly what I expected.
At a rescue centre outside Malaga, a rescued tall brother spaniel is waiting for the next well-wisher.
JANNA: You sometimes process the picture very darkly, which should be considered unconventional animal photography. Why are you taking this approach?
MARTIN: There are two aspects that I care about very much, and I've been trying to accommodate them for a long time. First of all, I am very concerned about the rift between humans and animals, and I hope that my photography will attract more attention to this disagreement. Language, technology, and innate arrogance make us complacent and distance ourselves from animals, but in fact they bring immeasurable pain. Second, I hope to use this to explore the dark areas of my heart, or to save my weaknesses. I have loved animals since I was a child, especially dogs, and that feeling is difficult to explain, and over time I will be lost in the fragility of life and unable to extricate myself. Maybe my concern for animals and my own weaknesses are the same thing, both longing for understanding, sympathy and communication from others.
Above: A rescued high-brother Spanish dog;
Pictured below: An olive tree, and dogs that perform poorly are punished, one of which is to be hung from such a tree and allow their feet to reach the ground. Abusers also ridicule this method of chronic death as "playing the piano."
JANNA: How did it feel to photograph these critters?
MARTIN: Seriously, the whole filming process made my heart feel very weak, because every time I came back to the rescue station, I could see a lot of new dogs. They were terrified and wouldn't let them touch, and I had to take as little time as possible to photograph them, they were so fragile. Some dogs are completely insoluble, while others need our help. I wanted to take care of them as much as I could, but I couldn't force them all. In general, the naturally timid Lingti and small hounds need to be treated more properly.
The smaller Ibiza Hound is often used for hunting in mountainous terrain.
JANNA: What role do you want these photos to do?
MARTIN: I think you can at least see the beauty of the dog and the ugliness of the backstory. Replacing brutal and bloody images with seemingly aesthetic images may have a more efficient cognitive effect.
JANNA: What is the perception?
MARTIN: Actually, we are animals too. Humans have the ability to love and trust, but also have the urge to trample on love and trust. These dogs tell us in the most direct and simplest way to be kind to love and trust.
(Translator: Kiyozumi Shikami)