Art BooksNovember 2023In Conversation
Matarile Ediciones with Zach Ritter

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Founded in 2021 by Martha Naranjo Sandoval and Aline Enríquez, and based in Brooklyn, New York and Mexico City, respectively, Matarile Ediciones focuses on publishing photographic work by artists of immigrant descent. To date, they have published six books with the following artists: groana melendez, Naranjo Sandoval, Cristina Velásquez, Marion Ellena, Genesis Báez, and Muriel Hasbun in that order. Naranjo Sandoval leads the editing and production (with the exception of their second publication, Sangre de mi Sangre, published in 2021 and featuring work by Naranjo Sandoval herself, which was edited by Justine Kurland), while Enríquez handles the design. Though the sample size is still small, their output thus far demonstrates a holistic approach to photobook publishing, where the images and their sequencing are amplified and expanded upon by inventive and creative design choices, with each element neatly and evocatively tying together.
I spoke with Naranjo Sandoval and Enríquez over email to discuss the political messaging of their press, how they work with artists, what their process for producing books is like, what the photobook means to them, and how to address the press’ small, but growing, audience.
Zach Ritter (Rail): You have just published your sixth book, Pax Tecum Filomena: Una Canción Para Ti, which features the work of Muriel Hasbun. The book was released to coincide with the opening of her exhibition at the International Center of Photography (ICP) in New York on September 29, 2023. Can you speak about Hasbun’s work and how the idea to collaborate with her on a book came about?
Martha Naranjo Sandoval: Elisabeth Sherman, Senior Curator at ICP, learned about Matarile Ediciones during the ICP Photobook Fest earlier this year. She approached me because she thought Muriel’s work would fit Matarile, and she was right! Elisabeth curated a very considered survey of Muriel’s work as her first show at ICP, and the fact that she reached out to us made me feel seen and understood. Muriel’s is both a compliment and departure from our other titles. She is more established and has been working for a longer time than the other artists. The approach to narrative and how the book functions is also different. For example, the pictures in the book are not all her own work, but pieces of a bigger narrative, which makes the book a piece itself.
Rail: The book reads like something close to a family album, though one which directly embraces ambiguity and tragedy. It makes use of a variety of image types and formats, which is reflective of Hasbun’s work and the exhibition more specifically: x-rays, archival materials, and Hasbun’s photographic prints. How did you approach the problem of needing to harmonize (as I think you do) the different source materials?
Naranjo Sandoval: We often think of historical occurrences as public, but they are also personal. History happens to people, people not unlike you or me. This book is the story of two women of the same family. Janet, or Filomena, and Muriel herself. We needed to establish that Muriel had a familial relationship to Janet, and that the way she engaged with her was as a cousin that she remembered as a beauty. That was true to Janet’s biography, but it was also true that by the time of her death she was Comandante Filomena, a member of the Ejército Revolucionario del Pueblo (ERP). There was another way in which Muriel’s immediate family engaged with her after her death, when her father was asked to identify the body using her teeth. All of these elements were necessary for the narrative, and they are in the book in all the forms that you mention. Muriel and I worked on the sequencing to tell this story in a considered way.
Aline Enríquez: I like to think that whenever you place elements on a spread, they are having a conversation between them that builds up with the elements on the neighboring spreads, and that is why order and arrangement are so important. As Martha pointed out, she worked along with Muriel in the sequencing and created the storytelling in such a way that it is what harmonizes and brings together all the materials, despite their differences. By the time I received them, Martha and Muriel had already established whether they would be displayed in full size, or if they were going to make up a composition (as you may see in some of the spreads), so my input was more on the subject of color treatment (even though it feels like it is all black and white) and layout tweaks. I think the diversity of the materials actually helps to convey the sentiment of a story that’s coming together from different perspectives or voices, as Martha also mentioned. This is the first time we have an “about” text in the books, and I definitely feel that it helps to round up the narrative built here.
Rail: I’d like to ask about the phrase “Ningún ser humano es illegal (no human is illegal)” which is displayed prominently on the back cover of your books. What is the significance of this phrase for you both and, more broadly, for the focus of Matarile Ediciones?
Naranjo Sandoval: Matarile Ediciones started because I realized that, because I was working at Dashwood Books, I had access to a platform. I am an immigrant, and as such I recognize immigrants have particular experiences. I wanted to use this platform to showcase artists with this background. When we were finalizing the design, it was actually Aline’s idea to make some space for this slogan to bring attention to an issue that affects a lot of immigrants.
Enríquez: As Martha mentioned, when Matarile started, it was very clear we wanted to focus on the work of artists who are immigrants. The phrase belongs to the immigration movement and I’d say that we thought of using it to express our support for it, though we don’t make further statements—we just let the work of the artists speak for itself. Maybe the books don’t have immigration as a central theme, but the experience of leaving their place of origin to settle somewhere else influences the way in which people look at the world and at their work, of course, so it was important for us to make space to express those views.
Rail: Most publishers seem to shy away from adding slogans or explicit messaging of their own to the design of their books. Matarile Ediciones takes the reverse approach by inserting a political framework to each book, regardless of what lies within. With this in mind, and at what is still a relatively early stage in your publishing, are there specific political goals that you want Matarile Ediciones to strive for?
Naranjo Sandoval: More than a slogan, it’s a reminder. It’s a reminder that all immigrants are human. That is important for me, so I want people to be confronted with that statement.
Enríquez: I don’t think of the message as a slogan, but as a manifesto. A very short and straightforward manifesto. I guess we never stopped and wondered if we were being political by printing it on the back of the books; it just seemed natural. Like, “ok we’re Matarile Ediciones and we are printing work by artists who are immigrants and immigrants are human and no human being is illegal, ok, put it in the back.” It was Martha’s idea to create Matarile, and I remember very clearly she explained to me at the time that she wanted to start a project that was open for collaboration with artists we liked and who could maybe use more exposure. I guess the goal of Matarile is to open up space for those collaborations and exposure to happen.
Rail: I’d like to talk about the editing and design process. Martha, you’ve been the editor for all but one of the five publications thus far, and Aline you have designed them all. Martha, how does your editing process work? Are you receiving images and a general idea from the artists and then developing the sequence yourself? How much collaboration is there between you and the artist? At what point do you start thinking about the design and printing of the book?
Naranjo Sandoval: Editing every book is as varied as the artists. Every time has been a bit different, but the general process is similar. The artist and I have a studio visit. After that, they select a generous amount of images to send to me. From there it depends on the artists, we can either hash it out together or I can propose an initial edit and go back and forth. Once the sequencing is in a place we like, we hand it over to Aline for the design.
Rail: Aline, how do you approach the design of each book? Are there any core principles you try to adhere to, or do you let the work dictate the choices you make? Are you seeing the work at an early stage and participating in the process along the way, before the sequence and layout is finalized?
Enríquez: Just as it happens with the editing, the work dictates the choices. The only rule I’d say we have is that they all have the same format and that we don’t add any text, just the colophon, and then we have the obi band and I get to play around a little with the color ink choices. Overall, my work is to make sure every image sits easily on the page, and I aim to be invisible with my design; like the layout is barely there, but it’s supporting the sequence and the storytelling, letting you get the most out of every picture when you look at them. Usually, Martha shares the work with me when the sequencing is almost ready, and on some occasions, I give some advice if I feel like a certain picture is not helping the flow.
Rail: Stepping back somewhat, what are some qualities or characteristics that you’re looking for in a body of work to indicate that a book makes sense for it? Is this something you try and find out with each artist, or are you hoping that they have already thought about the book as a medium for their work?
Naranjo Sandoval: I am first and foremost an artist. I understand what artists go through when they are thinking about their work, and that is always present. It’s hard to work with an artist that has a particular idea of what they want because we do mostly adhere to a format and we don’t want them to have to compromise their ideas. We both work with artists who have had books and artists who have never delved in that world. I am also a photobook teacher, cataloguer, and seller so I am used to working with people with different knowledge of the medium. Each artist approaches it in a different way and we are here to help them in any way we can.
Enríquez: My answer is going to be completely biased because I am the kind of person who wants to turn everything into a book; if I see good content, I feel the urge to have it printed. I also think of books as spaces or devices, more than just objects. In that sense, I believe books are somehow like little galleries or platforms that we get to navigate in a very intimate way. For me, what allows a body of work to fit this format is the storytelling, which doesn’t need to follow a certain structure but it has to be able to stand by itself. As Martha said, we’re here to help with anything we can and try to adjust to how each artist approaches the medium, what they want to express and how.
Rail: I often think about the intimacy that a book can bring to one’s aesthetic experience— being able to look at something where and under what conditions one so chooses. And, if we temporarily bracket the question of cost and how that can be a barrier to entry, the photobook, like magazines once did, offer the potential for a wider audience than a site-specific exhibition can. Can you speak about what the photobook can do that other mediums, and specifically other formats for exhibiting photography, cannot do, or at least, cannot do as well as the book can? Is it a question of the collaborative aspect of production and the expansive potential of distribution, as I suggested? Or is there something more specific to the form that makes the book unique and important for you both?
Naranjo Sandoval: There’s multiple reasons why I love the book as a medium. I come from the film world and there it is so apparent how important sequencing is to telling a story. There is also a tactile experience that allows viewers to engage with the images in such a specific and rich way. And it is true what you say that exhibitions are space and time specific. You either catch them or you don’t. And books can outlive an artist! But I would be lying if I didn’t mention that I am fully aware photobooks have a niche audience, and people outside of photobook audiences might not immediately get the value or understand the language. It is true, however, that this audience is growing! I will also maybe stray a bit outside the realm of this question, but I wanted to mention Nayland Blake, who was the chair of the MFA program I attended [ICP-Bard Program in Advanced Photographic Studies]. They would often say two important pillars that inform, to this day, how I think of myself as a person in the artworld. The first one is that if the current artworld is not doing what you want it to, then make your own. The second one is that community is important. I started Matarile because I realized that if I used my resources in a smart way, I would actually be able to show art that I am excited about in a medium that I know. And one of the most important things that has happened along the way is the community that has gathered around it.
Enríquez: I think my previous answer connects to this question. When we attend book fairs, I like to look at people’s faces when they are looking at books—not just ours, but any—and I find it truly warming to see people’s reactions; my favorites are when they see something they like that makes them smile, and when they see something, turn to their companion(s) and show them. Of course, you may observe similar reactions from people at exhibitions, but as you pointed out, there is a joy in knowing you can take that with you, bring it home, give it to someone you love. And then, come back to it whenever and wherever you like (or almost), and interact with it; you can write or doodle on the pages, you can tear them out, or cut out a section. This may seem barbaric to some, but to me, there’s a potential in being able to transform a book’s materiality that you don’t have as easily with other mediums. We create bonds with our books and they can be channels to create bonds with communities, with other people, and with ourselves.
There’s a beautiful book by Walter J. Ong called Orality and Literacy where he explains how the invention of print changed how we structured our thoughts by allowing us to read in silence, in private, and to arrange information in non–narrative structures that maybe weren’t as present before (such as charts, indexes, or galleries). I think that what’s so great about art in general is that it allows us to bond with ourselves, to have conversations with ourselves. With books, having the aesthetic experience of looking at it, but also touching it, navigating it … smelling it, enhances the experience of having that connection with the content, the authors, the publishers, even with the work of the printers and distributors … and then, of course, with ourselves.
Rail: Martha, I’m happy you pointed out that the photobook audience is still a small one, relatively speaking. While there have seemingly never been as many publishers devoted to producing photobooks than there are now, along with more channels for promoting them, the audience and the people buying them is dominated by those already within the photography community, including photographers, publishers, critics, collectors and so forth. How can we expand photobook literacy and see that books we think are important, whether formally, politically, or otherwise, reach as wide an audience as possible?
Naranjo Sandoval: This is a hard question. I work at a photobook library and a photobook bookstore so I think about this a lot. My answer could take different routes depending on whether I’m answering as an artist, a book seller, or a cataloguer. But if I answer with my publisher hat on, I can say our audience intersects with photobook people but does not entirely live inside it. That is the beauty of projects like this and the communities you encounter around them. There’s the art book people too, who are an entirely different monster from the photobook ones, they know us through Printed Matter and from fairs. We also have books in clothing stores, galleries, and furniture stores. And most importantly, we decided to focus on immigrants, and by doing so, we also found an audience of people who might not be familiar with photobooks but who are familiar with mediums like the family album, and who are excited to find a place where stories like theirs are told.
Enríquez: The main objective isn’t increasing the available slots for the photobooks themselves but rather expanding and strengthening the space for the art and photography community and for the exchange of ideas to happen. I think books are a medium to deliver messages and showcase things and voices we care about, or like portable platforms that enable conversations and connections. I want to emphasize something Martha mentioned, which is that our audience is diverse and that when we choose to focus on the work of immigrants, we reach people who are excited to find stories they can relate to. So, yeah, while I agree expanding the audience is important, I think enhancing deeper, more intimate but also, more accessible conversations with people from different backgrounds can help increase photobook literacy.
Zach Ritter is a writer based in Brooklyn, New York. His writing has appeared in American Suburb X, the Brooklyn Rail, Dear Dave, Hyperallergic, and Photograph magazine, among other publications.