Ana González brings the Amazon to New York with Río, a powerful call to protect what truly matters

All my work began by working with communities who were victims of the armed conflict, especially in Latin America and in Colombia. But very quickly I understood that working with that was very hard, for me and for the public. I wanted to show another face of what Latin America was.

So I understood that, more than working with displacement because of violence, when they left their places of origin, I wanted to see what was happening with those places of origin, where those communities came from. And I began to discover some beautiful places.

I have always been a lover of the sea. I windsurf since I was young, my children have gone to the sea since they were little… that is why I have a big connection with the sea. And with the mountains too, because of being in Bogotá, in the Andes. I always liked walking in nature. When I started traveling around Colombia to see where the communities came from, that was when I began to see that this beauty had to be shown.

This came together with collaborating on a book with a photographer, who I care deeply about, Rubén Afanador. He is a portrait photographer, very well known, he lives in New York. I met him when photographs were being taken during the peace process in Colombia, around 2016. We met and said, the world has to see this...these natural parks… because they were places people did not know, not even us, because you could not go there for security reasons.

That is when we started the project called Hijas del Agua (Daughters of Water) with him. That book connected me very much with nature and with the communities who care for these places that are so important: the Amazon, the lungs of the world, and the Andes.

You think of the Amazon River, the largest river, carrying so many stories. The Amazon stretches across five Latin American countries. In a way, it unites us. It is a place that still exists and must be protected. It is there to give oxygen to the world, to sustain these cycles.

“Río” is a very powerful word because, for Indigenous communities, the river is life. The river is water. After creating Hijas del Agua and learning from more than 40 Indigenous communities that protect nature, I understood that what must be protected above all is water. So the river, from its birth in the mountains until it reaches the sea, represents those cycles of life. And yes, despite everything you encounter along the way, the river flows.

There is also a fascinating concept: flying rivers. There are not only rivers of water, but rivers of clouds. These clouds carry water from the Andes mountains and irrigate the entire Amazon. There is much discussion about the need to protect these rivers of clouds.

I have several bodies of work and techniques. I get bored easily, so one day I pick up one thing, the next day another. Textiles are one part of that.

Textiles have been an exploration for more than 15 years: embroidery, tapestries, and more. There was a phrase that deeply struck me in a book by Andrea Wulf about Humboldt. She wrote that Humboldt said nature is like a great textile. If you pull one thread, something inevitably happens on the other side. Action and reaction. Nature, as a vast textile, is disappearing thread by thread.

Through small actions we take every day, we contribute to that disappearance. Not only in the Amazon, but everywhere. Thread by thread, it fades, leaving behind an almost ethereal image of what once was.

That comes from an idea I have developed over the last three or four years about color. One of my earlier pieces was in black and white, but then I began working with the color green, the shade of dollars. I took that exact dollar Pantone and used it. It speaks to the green of nature versus the green of capitalism.

There is irony in it. It is a beautiful green, but it carries a message. I do not like to be overly explicit about how serious and aggressive what is happening to nature really is, but that green speaks for itself.

I am also working a lot with gold, inspired by the legend of El Dorado. I draw a parallel between what El Dorado meant for the conquistadors and what the true El Dorado of these countries actually is: nature. The real gold is in nature, in water, in oxygen.

The Devastations are these textiles where I create that thread by thread effect, taking out, unraveling… and it has gone through several stages.

This gold also speaks about gold mining and how with mining they are finishing off ancient places: trees, rivers… they become contaminated. It is a series that has been going on for several years, but it has transformed. I transform and complement the series; they evolve toward other things. Here it evolves clearly toward the topic of gold.

I go to these places to photograph with my camera and from thousands of photographs I choose the best ones. With those I start to build the whole textile work and then the color enters.

They are difficult and long trips, and for me they have been a challenge. In complicated countries where there is still violence and guerrillas, it is not easy, and even more as a woman. So I try to travel with several people, with teams, but very simple ones. 

I carry in my backpack my camera and a sketchbook and that is it. You always have to ask permission. Before arriving at a place I ask permission from nature and I say, “Well, what are you going to show me?” To be grateful and arrive in a mood of receiving. Later all that download happens in the studio.

It depends on what I want to talk about. For example, in my previous exhibition, Bruma, I wanted to talk about fog, about the water that is in the clouds, and that idea that everything is dissolving. So I looked for those cloud forests in the Andes mountain range.

Now for Río I needed to travel to the Amazon, but not only the Amazon: to several rivers that meet and are in the Amazon. I chose three rivers. I wanted to make a video: to go inside the rivers in a boat. The feeling of going in a canoe when the Amazon floods… to understand the sounds and how nature surrounds you. It is impressive.

Yes, absolutely. That is such an important question. Half of my work is studio, but the other part is the work with communities. It began with the book Hijas del Agua, we traveled to more than 40 Indigenous communities, and after that I worked with crafts for a long time. My relationship with Indigenous communities is very close.

This work would not be the same if I did not work hand in hand with them. Much of what I show I owe to them: they are the caretakers of nature. I cannot care for nature the way an Indigenous community in the Amazon cares for it, because they know how to live with it and understand it, read it, feel it. They are the system, they are nature.

We built a health center in the Amazon, with the mix of traditional and Western medicine. Also, with organizations, we created study centers so young people can study virtually from there, without having to leave for the cities.

Our commitment was to give the book back to all of them. They received it, and also the prints of the photographs. It was not about arriving, portraying them and leaving, but saying, “How can we make an exchange?” We still work with many of them, and I have many artisans who work with me.

It is about awareness. As artists, we reach people through the senses, through sensitivity. In this exhibition, I wanted visitors to feel a little of what it is like to be in the Amazon. There will be sounds, like the boat, the birds, and that contrast of bringing the Amazon rainforest into a concrete jungle like New York.

I photograph what remains. Not everything is perfect. Next to it, there may be cattle or illegal mining. But I photograph what remains. That is the message: awareness.