How This Photographer Finds His Creative Groove

“Home is wherever I feel like myself.”

Gerardo Sandoval, known as Gess, is a bonafide multi-hyphenate. Through photography, art direction, sprawling personal notebooks, illustration and dance, the 26-year-old expresses his place in the world—and his relationship to it on Urth Magazine.

But Gess’s world morphed constantly from a young age; his upbringing in a military family meant he moved all over Mexico, and often. Guadalajara, Jalisco was his birthplace. But there are many more places that provided a roof over his head: Baja California, Chiapas, Veracruz, Michoacán, Monterrey, and finally—Mexico City.

It’s in the capital where he and I meet, on a softly sun-lit Saturday morning. “I think I was looking for home my whole life, moving from cities to cities. I never felt like I had a home until I moved here,” Gess tells me. We’re in the new brick and mortar space of Los Cocuyos, chasing longaniza tacos with generous sprinkles of lime and pints of jamaica; outside, the whirl of ambulatory venders and bachata playing out of passing cars fill the place with an upbeat, infectious energy.

It’s precisely that feeling of being in Mexico City—the undercurrent of nine million aspirations, that unrelenting hustle, the symphony of quesadillas on the comal—that creates a kind of music for Gess. In this collaborative photo series, he and I went out to explore that undying pulse. We wanted to express the city not just through visuals, but through movements: through dance, and the liberating act of taking up space.

Though he inhabits it with all the ease in the world, dance as an art form is relatively new in Gess’s life. The isolation brought on by the pandemic compelled him to look inward and investigate his own relationship with self. Dance became a common fixture during that time; it was a way of breaking out of the four walls he’d been accustomed to.

While there’s always been a common theme of ‘place’ in Gess’ photographic work—whether it’s experimenting with the light spilling into a side street, or highlighting the smaller details of well-known locations—the inhabiting of one’s body is what attracted him to dance. Movement began as something intimate and personal; an exploration of the internal space. But in time, it also became an act of relating to one’s surroundings, and truly embodying them.

“When I think of dance, I think of the organic. I can see roots and nature,” he says. “If I visualise my body, I can see energy passing through it—through my legs and arms. The city definitely makes me dance. And if I find myself around nature, that makes me want to move with it.”

Moving has also embedded itself into his artistic process. Gess believes in the importance of the state of mind in an artistic setting; if one’s mental energy is out of alignment with what’s needed for a project, it might be reflected in the work. He recalls instances where he took time away from set to put headphones on and dance—to get energised creatively before taking on the photoshoot.

“I’m a very romantic person,” he says. “When I’m taking photos, I like to think I’m writing poems with light. Music and dancing are a part of that poem.”

In a sense, movement is also his way of planting roots. The shapeshifting metropolis of Mexico City has been Gess’ base for the past few years. Its ever-frenetic energy, coupled with quite literal tremors from tectonic activity, means there’s hardly time for the dust to ever settle; residents simply adapt in whatever way they can. But a restless place like this, he tells me, is also ripe for reinvention.

“There are many realities happening at the same time, and you have the chance to experience that. Mexico City allows you to create your own reality, and that can be your home.”

It’s precisely what we’d done throughout the day—weaving in and out of realities, as we wandered past different places that offered a glimpse of Gess’ universe. The chocolatería outside his home, roasting cacao that perfumed the apartment hallways. Brilliant jacarandas towering over historic buildings. The hundreds of office workers streaming in and out for enchiladas or tacos al pastor. There was an unmistakable familiarity with it all; a buzzing warmth to how Gess simply inhabited his space.

Before we part ways, I ask why Mexico—and this concept of Mexicanidad—is so central to his work. It’s something that is very much a part of his identity, he tells me. “I feel very Mexican, and I feel super proud of it. It’s one of my purposes to document. I can show my roots, my culture, and my history through my work. I feel very connected to my ancestors.”

Being Mexican, he says, “is magical.”