Tucson artist Miro Gutierrez is reviving an old artform
Miro Gutierrez adjusts his equipment during a photoshoot at his home studio
The colors, sights, and smells of Día de Muertos en la Ciudad de México left a deep impression on Miro Gutierrez.
“I still dream about what I saw,” says the Tucson photographer.
That moment was forever etched into his brain in the same way that collodion, ether, and silver nitrate sear into tin to create wet plate collodion photography. Gutierrez is bringing back this timeless artform at a time when digital creators are doubling down on digital SLRs, gimbals, and AI churning out content at a frenetic pace.
Gutierrez’s interest in wet plate collodion or tintype photography emerged when vintage camera equipment started showing up in his small thrift shop.
“I started running into these tintype plates, and I couldn’t figure out for the life of me how they got [the images] on there,” said Gutierrez.
His interest became a feverish obsession.
Earlier this year, he made a pilgrimage to Silver and Cedar, a Phoenix tintype photo studio to pose for pictures and see every step of the process up close. As soon as he got home, Gutierrez started calling anyone and everyone he knew, from Los Angeles to Appalachia, hoping to find someone who could teach him.
At home in the Southwest
Gutierrez, 42, ran away from Detroit at the age of seventeen to find his place in Tucson. It was here that the desert and the creosote and monsoons took him in and cared for him.
“Tucson was so kind. They could see that I needed help and needed work,” he says.
In exchange for that kindness, Gutierrez worked odd jobs mostly in the service and hospitality industry. There was a stint in retail. Gutierrez met all sorts of characters along the way.
“This is my world, I get spoiled. I go to bars sometimes and the bartender would remember me because I made their coffee,” says Gutierrez.
Though he appreciates the free drinks, these days he is using his local connections to find people to pose for him.
Gutierrez’s studio is a brightly lit Arizona room with wall-to-wall windows
Not surprisingly, it was here, in Tucson, that Gutierrez connected with the Western Photographic Historical Society (WPHS), a group of retired photo enthusiasts who would show him everything he needed to know about the collodion craft, invented in the 1850s.
“They were so generous with all their information,” says Gutierrez. “The night I joined that group I came home and placed a bid on an old 50’s Cambo camera used in studios for editorial pictures.”
When he woke up the next morning, it was his.
Gutierrez is resourceful— an instinct of his thrift store days. He built a makeshift darkroom out of tarps and an old dresser. At a WPHS camera swap he purchased a Xerox lens for $5 and used it to make his first lens board. Later he would save up $150 dollars to purchase another camera from someone in the group. Gutierrez also sources his chemicals from the group since they buy them in bulk. He even got someone to 3D-print some camera parts.
Photoshoot Day
Miro Gutierrez, in his kitchen which overlooks his studio
Gutierrez’s hospitality was on full display during a recent photoshoot at his home studio. The thick aroma of coffee and fresh bacon filled the kitchen.
His kitchen is carefully curated. Plants and vintage copper pots and pans hang from the walls. In front of the sink, a window overlooks his studio. Even while doing dishes, Gutierrez is imagining his next photo shoot.
Unlike the instant gratification of selfie culture, tin plate photography is an old artform, a throwback to an era that demands patience. There is no tap and share here. Photos develop as light enters the camera and chemicals slowly interact with the tin plate. Collodion asks that its subjects remain perfectly still for long periods of time. There is little room for error once the plate is inserted into the camera and the lens cap is removed, exposing the plate to light.
This might help explain the stillness and serious expressions of the pictures of that era, something that was not lost on Tucsonan Don Guerra (who debated whether or not to smile) when he, his wife Janelle Gleeson and their daughter posed for Gutierrez earlier this month.
“This medium tells a story, it makes it look rustic and old,” says Guerra who remembers his grandmother having a chest of old pictures he would rummage through.
Don Guerra and Janelle Gleeson with their child. Photo credit: Miro Gutierrez
Gleeson, a good friend of Gutierrez, spoke about the timeless quality of tintype photography.
“Seeing Miro’s photographs brings about a nostalgia that is almost like taking us into a different time,” says Gleeson. “We take so many pictures today. Of ourselves, of our food, that it feels like pictures have lost their essence.”
Vadi Arzu Erdal surrounded by ornate pillows, textures, and tapestries. For this part of the photoshoot, Gutierrez moved his camera and lights inside the house. The summer heat can make working in the studio a challenge.
When we visited his home studio, Gutierrez was photographing friends Casper Valentine and Vadi Arzu Erdal.
While colors are muted in wet plate photography, facial expressions and contrasts are the real showstoppers. Gutierrez’s portraits of Erdal capture a timeless expression, teleporting us away from Tucson to a different place.
For Erdal, that place is Kurdistan, where her family’s roots are.
“I was looking at an old family album from my great aunts and uncles,” says Erdal. “It’s so special to feel like I can connect with my ancestors in this little art portal.”
Erdal explained how she felt inspired and honored to pose for Gutierrez, who throws himself into his work with so much intention.
"It can feel very vulnerable to receive the gaze of a camera, especially as a non-binary person of color,” says Erdal. “It felt really safe in the space…knowing he would only represent me honoring the traditions I am drawing from.”
It is important to Gutierrez that brown, black, trans, and other communities are represented in visual art like collodion photography.
“Currently the (medium) is saturated by white culture,” says Gutierrez over a cup of coffee. “I think it’s important for us as first-gen, second, or third-gen to document the time here. Everybody is looking into who they are and their roots and wanting to project that genuinely.”
That responsibility is not lost on him as he leans into the table with an air of appreciation.
“What a treat to be a vessel toward honoring that. I see you and I want you to see yourself like that too,” he says of his work.
“It feels good to know how deeply Miro cares about representing his muses in a culturally relevant light,” says Erdal.
Another of Gutierrez’s subjects, Casper Valentine reflected on the significance of seeing himself represented in this type of media.
“I feel excited to be a part of documenting history,” says Valentine. “I feel like I am part of a future-building that Miro is directing, an intention for a world that holds everyone with dignity and an acknowledgement of their unique beauty.”
There is a stillness and intimacy that happens the moment Gutierrez retreats into the veil of his camera.
“Looking at the photos I feel like I’m seeing someone who isn’t exactly me and getting the chance to appreciate that person. This has allowed me to explore letting other people see me, too. The process feels intimate and it’s a practice of trust to share myself in this way,” added Valentine.
“When I’m posing, I do what I can to enter into a meditative state,” says Casper Valentine (right). “It’s nice to turn towards stillness. I’m not thinking much, just being present with Miro and myself and the camera.”
Gutierrez and Valentine debating their favorites
Photo credit: Miro Gutierrez
Miro’s moment
Miro Gutierrez during a conversation at Exo Coffee
A restless spirit, I ask Gutierrez if he’s still trying to find the thing.
“I think this is the thing,” he says with an awareness and appreciation that only comes with age. “I feel good about it, I feel confident. I can definitely muster so many ideas.”
He has the gear, the space, and a community of photographers who pool their resources and experience to support one another.
Above all, Gutierrez has talent for seeing the best in us, and the vision to meet the moment.
