Photographer Tom van der Leij travels the world. All kinds of subjects pass before his lens. That is how he ended up in the global city of Rio de Janeiro.
This metropolis of extremes has everything you look for in a truly global destination. You can stroll along the world-famous beaches of Copacabana and Ipanema, where beautiful bodies and impressively toned physiques are on display.
It is easy to lose yourself in one of the countless bars serving delicious cocktails. Modest shacks and expensive villas stand side by side here. Everything is surrounded by the world’s largest urban rainforest, watched over by the famous 38-meter-tall statue of Christ. It is a must for every photographer who loves culture and nature—and a little excitement too.
The external flash makes my camera look expensive and like attractive loot for the evening
I mapped out the route in advance and walked it without a camera. I identified the scenes I wanted to photograph. Now I am walking through the narrow streets of the Lapa district, firing my flash. Thousands of people gather here every weekend to dance, drink, and party.
Some stretches of the streets are packed with exuberant people. It is one huge party. Here too, the rule is to see and be seen. Pounding samba beats blast from the stalls, and many Brazilians dance forró to the infectious music.
Where so many people gather, less welcome visitors are drawn in too. Out of the corners of my eyes, I see my flash attracting the attention of groups of street boys. The external flash makes my camera look expensive and like attractive loot for the evening. I push through the crowd as quickly as I can.
I no longer see the boys and continue along my route. At the end, I get into a taxi and leave the area, first securing my camera and then returning.
Watch your camera; it isn’t safe here
After a few days, I become slightly paranoid because of the warnings from Cariocas, Rio’s residents. “Watch your camera” and “It isn’t safe here” are phrases people keep shouting at me while I take pictures in broad daylight.
Naturally, I also want to capture some of the more challenging neighborhoods and situations. I am staying at a youth hostel in the artists’ district of Santa Teresa. Many of my fellow travelers turn out to have been relieved of their cameras; some were threatened with a knife, while others were simply told to hand over their valuables.
She advises me not to photograph a group of men sitting beneath a shelter
Santa Teresa itself is a delightful neighborhood. An earthquake in 1966 destroyed large parts of the area, which actually proved to be its salvation. Since then, the neighborhood has become popular with artists and hippies. They bought the large, dilapidated villas, restored the ornate buildings, and breathed new life into the area.
Today, Santa Teresa is a desirable place to live, where many aging artists run a bed & breakfast. It has the easygoing feel of a village with a hint of big-city sophistication.
Later that week, when I enter the favela near Santa Teresa with Chris, a social worker, I feel remarkably safe. Normally, I would not readily walk into an unfamiliar disadvantaged neighborhood alone with a camera. But Chris knows everyone.
She has lived here all her life and is respected by the different gangs. And because it is morning, there are very few gang members on the street. She advises me not to photograph a group of men sitting beneath a shelter. “Those are the leaders of the Red Commandos, a gang,” she explains.
They were just robbed by three boys and had to hand over everything—even his clothes
One evening later, I am standing on the promenade at Ipanema, Rio’s trendier beach. While Copacabana attracts more older people, families, and tourists, the beach in the Ipanema district is more vibrant.
I consider walking out to a rocky point and photographing the beach from there. It is already getting quite dark, however, and in my experience, urban beaches around the world become gathering places for unsavory characters after sunset.
As I order yet another caipirinha, an American boy and a Brazilian girl walk up from the beach. She is crying and in shock; he is wide-eyed with fear and wearing only his boxer shorts. They have just been robbed by three boys and had to hand over everything—even his clothes.
Rio de Janeiro can be hard to fathom. If you stay on the tourist routes, do not wave your camera around too conspicuously, and avoid flashy jewelry, the odds of anything happening to you are low. But photographers naturally want to make pictures, preferably of the more exciting subjects.
Rio is one of the most beautiful cities I know. It is vibrant and rugged, with magnificent natural surroundings. It has the world’s largest urban forest, including Corcovado, the mountain topped by the soapstone statue of Christ.
Perhaps the constant tension is precisely what makes Rio so interesting to me. I once wrote that if you are robbed in Rio, it is part of the full Rio experience. I always carry an extra wallet containing a few expired cards and about one hundred euros’ worth in dollars and local currency. I will hand it over immediately if someone puts a knife to my throat.
I wonder how I will react if the robber also wants my camera; after all, it is my livelihood. I would probably hand it over without a word and come away with one more experience.
Want to learn more about this author and photographer? Visit the Tom van der Leij page.
