ELLE Spain | interview
Time to Heal in ELLE Spain – Emilia Brandão Carneiro
Time to Heal in ELLE Spain – Emilia Brandão Carneiro
Time to Heal in ELLE Spain – Emilia Brandão Carneiro
Time to Heal
Through her lens, EMILIA BRANDAO pays tribute to 150 hospital professionals who give their best every day on the front lines of the pandemic.
Rosa, Esperanza, Paz, César, Jesús, Piedad… These are some of the 150 workers who daily pump life into the Madrid hospitals Gregorio Marañón, Puerta de Hierro, and Universitario del Sureste, and whom Brazilian photographer and Leica ambassador Emilia Brandão (São Paulo, 1982) has captured with her lens in Time to Heal. This project honors a group of extraordinary individuals who give their all in the trenches and who face emotional ups and downs as best they can. “A pandemic was needed to recognize their work,” says the artist. “A pandemic that has placed these professionals on the front lines of battle with barely any equipment, and their response capacity has become evident. They are not heroes, nor do they possess superpowers; they are humans doing their usual jobs for a common good: saving lives.”
Why Time to Heal?
We are living in a moment of healing for humanity. For both them, as they tirelessly work with the sole aim of helping others, and for society, as it serves as a healing of the soul.
There is always light where there is darkness.
And those who especially need it now are the entire hospital team, and I wanted to give it to them: from the security personnel to the aides, including the orderlies, the head chef, and the physiotherapist. Everyone. They are a chain. And they need that recognition.
They have become the ultimate expression of humanity and commitment against an invisible enemy.
In the romantic urge to call them heroes for their selfless sacrifice without regard for their health, they do not want to be seen that way. Nor as martyrs. They feel anxiety and helplessness. They have been thrown into a war without protection.
Taking advantage of what are their obligations for and to the population.
Undoubtedly. A collective that the virus has overcome more than desired. For me, they are the benchmark of responsibility, humility, commitment, and the love that a human can give. They have left their specialties to form a common front. And no matter how dark the situation is, they must continue to give their best without getting frustrated and cling to the strength that the team spirit and the solidarity of the people provide them.
Why do they draw more strength when the virus tightens?
Because it’s in their blood. It’s a vocational challenge, that of saving lives, which they face without space for fear, in order to reconnect with hope. Almudena, the nursing director of Puerta de Hierro, was one of the first people I photographed. She said that after the 11M attack, to keep going, she drew strength from anger. It was horrifying, yes, but it happened in hours. Now this is like a tsunami, progressive and sustained, very, very long, and no matter how well prepared they are in the hospitals, it exceeds imaginable limits. It never ends.
So where do they find their grit?
In the love for others. That which was anesthetized for a time and that they now experience on the front lines. They are being vulnerable.
Why do you think it’s so hard for us to show weaknesses?
There’s a teacher, Brené Brown, who challenges you to be brave and, therefore, to practice vulnerability. Contrary to popular belief, they are inherent; you cannot have one without the other. A person’s courage is measured by their ability to be vulnerable. They now live in the arena: with uncertainty, risks, and fierce emotional exposure. They get up every morning and choose courage over comfort and their families, even if this means stumbling, suffering, and sometimes failing. They have the guts to try, even when they cannot control the outcome. Right now, they are in action, keeping a cool head to avoid mistakes and without time to connect with the stillness inside the storm. When they do the latter, they will be emotionally and physically out of the game.
They are the only hope that the sick have of winning the battle.
And it’s an enormous responsibility that they live with a heartbreaking strength. They are exhausted, though not defeated, and they are the eyes and voice of all those who cannot hold the hand of their loved ones. They embrace that last caress, that last breath. Imagine hearing the beep of the oxygen supplying air to a patient’s lungs, feeling the pulse drop to 20, and knowing what the outcome will be. And one of the nurses there, unable to do more and at risk of contagion, removes her gloves and touches him so he doesn’t die alone. Suddenly, the heartbeat begins to rise. And he is saved. Sometimes, to keep living, all it takes is the warmth of physical contact.
The response from everyone is titanic. What do they ask of us in return?
To be responsible, nothing more. Their vaccine is us. They do more than is asked of them. If we want to survive in the future, we have to remain united as a society. So, out of respect, let’s fulfill our part.
Text: Claudia Saíz
Madrid, 04 may, 2020