Thásya Barbosa: "We Don't Need a F*ckin' System to Command Us"
Who: Thásya Barbosa
What: Photographer
Where: Sao Paulo, Brazil
How: As a big admirer of Thásya's work, I got in touch to find out more about her inspirations and political views in midst of a very controversial presidential election in Brazil.
What is your story?
Right. I’m Thásya, and I’m here to tell you today about how photography made its way into my life. I make a living as a graphic designer; I’ve always worked with design. But I took a job a while ago and had to handle a camera for the first time. That was magic. Soon after, I battled a severe depression and photography became my saving grace. Everything I was feeling I tried to capture on camera, somehow.
How long ago was this?
About two and half years ago. It hasn’t been that long. But photography is a powerful tool — it’s my way of finding my voice through pictures. I’ve always been very closed-mouthed, very shy about giving my opinion. I was always afraid to talk. I think this has to do with my story, my self-recognition as a black female in today’s society. I’ve been a victim of racism, of prejudice because of my body. My body has always been an issue to me. Highs and lows — I’ve never accepted my body. To this day, it’s something I need to constantly work on.
Were you bullied as a child?
Yeah, all the time. I was the overweight, black chick from private school. At home, my mother was very hard on herself to put food on the table and give us proper education. And all throughout my childhood I carried that label — I was different from everyone else. It was the little things: being the last one picked to dance at school events. I tried to find work as a sales clerk at the mall and I never could! I grew up in a small town in the country and the girls were always so dressed up. I felt like an alien next to them, because society insisted that I needed to have straight, blonde hair, white skin, a thin body and high heels.
Even back then, I was aware that I challenged stereotypes. I’m not less of a woman because I don’t fit their standard. But it’s a very painful deconstruction. I’m still working on myself.
How did your upbringing influence your work?
Well, like I said, I’m from a small town called Barra do Piraí, in the state of Rio de Janeiro. I’m not a well-traveled person. I’ve never left the country. I don’t come from money, I don’t have a relative to sponsor me so I can be a top art director. So I take what I can get. This was limiting in the beginning, because there isn’t a lot of access to artistic mediums in a small town. We tend to take culture for granted when living in a city like Sao Paulo, where I live now. But like, in my town, even the internet access is scarce. I’m completely self-taught; I do what I do because I love colors, compositions, shapes. That’s what brought me closer to art. My work is very sentimental, emotional; I don’t take commercial photos.
What about your family?
My family is catholic, very strict, whereas I practice Umbanda, an Afro-Brazilian religion. At first, this brought some conflict, but my faith is incredibly important to my personal growth. Coming from a small town and having dreams of making it big somewhere else… you know, that was hard on my parents at first. My dad had a very strict upbringing, so it took sometime for him to accept my choices. The girls in my town all aspire to get married and have kids, and I took the complete opposite approach. It was a shocker.
And yet, what really brought us together was photography. My father is one of my biggest supporters and a frequent subject in my pictures. Inviting him to participate in my art brought us much closer together. I've also shot my brother on a few occasions. It's amazing to see my work recognized as art and have them be a part of it. I have to thank Bia Salomao, my curator, for believing in me and in my message. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for her.
We’re at a pivotal moment in Brazilian history, with a controversial presidential election in which a far-right candidate threatening to revive a military dictatorship leads the polls. What are your political views?
I have very limited knowledge regarding politics, I admit. I’m just now entering a stage in life in which I’m mature enough to understand comprehend both sides. My contact with politics started when I made a music video with artist Maria Gadu and got to know the MSTC — the roofless movement of downtown Sao Paulo, led by Carmen Silva. It became clear then that humanity must come together.
We’re in this together together. We don’t need a fucking system to command us. We have to help each other out. I need to feel what you’re feeling, what my brother is feeling. No more labels. What humanity does not understand is the feeling of compassion.
That’s the political view I have nowadays. I want people to wave the flag of love and empathy. Our voices are here to be heard — this is the time to speak out.
How does that play with your family?
I talked to my mother today. I told her I want to play my part as a citizen. I need to talk about my views. I said, “I love you, so I need to talk to you about what I see happening to our country.” I’m not just going to call her to talk about my day — no! This needs to be discussed. So yeah, sometimes I get political at home and with my work.
Can you tell us a little bit about your latest project, Wear My Skin?
Wear My Skin has become an outburst where I speak through other people, but I want to finish this project with my self-portrait. And I confess that it will be very difficult to see my body there, naked, as it really is. I don’t know yet when I’m going to do it. But it will be liberating.
Are you pleased with the reception?
I think it’s crazy how it started as a personal, unpretentious project and has now taken me to places I had never dreamed of being. I have an exhibition in Portugal, I showcased in New York, in Miami. And I have never been to any of these places, my work is running loose without me!
I understand that I have a very short career still, I don’t consider myself a big deal, I don’t have fancy equipment. But I’m proud of they way I’m able to capture and impact people, and maybe even help. I don’t know. I just think it’s so cool that a country, black chick got to where I’ve gotten. It makes me super happy.
