Tapping into a Creative Mind — A Conversation with Isma Yunta
Initially published via PHMAGG. September 2020.
8 minutes read
Ismael Yunta describes himself as restless. His enduring search for new horizons reveals one aspect of his character, but it hardly tells the whole story.
Detail-oriented and deeply attuned to frame composition and light, Isma approaches his work with patience, precision, and unmistakable passion. His restlessness does not scatter his focus; it propels him forward, carrying him from one visual language to another once he feels he has mastered it.
Born in 1991 in Torres de la Alameda, near Madrid, Isma approaches surrealist photography from a landscape steeped in visual memory.
Spain has long given shape to the strange, the symbolic, and the dreamlike—from Salvador Dalí and Óscar Domínguez to Eduardo Chillida and beyond.
When the COVID-19 isolation slowed commissioned work, it opened an uncommon freedom: no clients, no pre-production, no external direction, no deadlines.
In that suspended silence, Isma’s gaze turned inward. What began as private experimentation gradually developed into a distinct visual language.
FW: Isma, tell us a little about the Fvck COVID-19 project.
ISMA: The project began almost instinctively, as a way of playing freely with the setting during isolation. For the first time in a long while, there were no agencies, no clients, and no external expectations—only the impulse to create, and the pleasure of seeing where that impulse might lead.
You know where you begin. You know the tools in your hands. But you do not know where the image will take you, or what form it will finally assume. The entire project became an act of improvisation, carried by the creative mind's independence from beginning to end.
Your photography has evolved remarkably. Do you remember your earliest work?
My first photographs were terrible. They made no sense at all. I spent a couple of years taking empty, awkward pictures to understand how the camera worked.
Then I began photographing at night, paying close attention to light. That was when things started to become interesting.
So you are self-taught.
Yes, entirely self-taught. I learned everything about the camera in my living room, and for two long years, my dining table became my studio.
Every day was an exercise in trial and error. I tested endlessly, repeating, failing, adjusting. Through that process, I gradually began to understand not only the camera, but the behaviour of light itself.
What drives you in photography? What keeps you moving when things become difficult?
I think it comes down to hunger. I am always drawn to new projects and new challenges—especially those that push me into unfamiliar territory.
Now that I feel more confident in the technical side of photography, I have become increasingly focused on art direction—on refining and balancing my visual language with the artistic vision behind each image.
When things become difficult—whether because of limited budgets, lack of time, or simply because reality does not align with what I imagined—I try to make the most of the situation and push as close as possible to the image I had in mind.
I strongly believe that the work has to speak for itself. That is why I give everything to each project and why I can be extremely stubborn when it comes to achieving what I set out to create [he laughs].
What have you observed in photography since you started?
The most profound shift has been the rise of social media and the speed at which it transformed the industry. It changed not only how photography is shared, but also how it is created, consumed, and expected to perform.
At the same time, the evolution of digital camera systems has been extraordinary. Technology has become faster, more accessible, and increasingly sophisticated—but, in the end, the image still depends on the eye behind it.
Who were the first photographers who truly resonated with you?
I do not remember who first inspired me to pursue photography professionally, but a few names marked a clear turning point in the way I understood the medium.
One was Garrigosa Studio. I was fascinated by the way they merge photography with CGI while maintaining such attention to texture, material, and detail. I remember spending hours analysing certain images and trying to recreate them without using CGI myself.
Another important influence was Scott Newett. His work expanded my understanding of what advertising photography could be. It showed me that commercial imagery can still feel human and natural without abandoning surrealism.
In the end, inspiration comes from everywhere. Lately, though, I find myself less focused on specific references and more interested in discovering ideas in unexpected places.
You worked in the pharmaceutical industry before becoming a freelance photographer. That is a significant shift. How would you advise someone who wants to change professions?
Make sure the desire is real—that it is not only an escape from where you are, but a genuine pull toward what you want to build.
Then be prepared to work hard, to be patient, and to make mistakes without letting them define you. You have to learn from each one and keep moving.
Most of all, do the work before the commissions arrive. Create for yourself. Build the path before anyone asks you to walk it.
Ana Tabakova's Fresh Take On Beauty
We sat down with Ana Tabakova to discuss her photographic journey, inspirations, and creative process.
ReadI can see that you prefer a "handmade setting" to 3D. What do you think the future of photography will look like? Do you believe that the time-consuming, handmade projects will disappear and 3-D will replace them?
Indeed, a more cost-effective 3D approach replaces photography's 'traditional handmade setting.' That way, brands can have multiple settings with different lights and framing. However, I don't think the handmade projects will disappear, and I believe that the vast majority of artists who carry out their tasks by hand have another value, or so I hope [he laughs].
So many artists now mix various approaches: art, 3D, everything. So, I do not think the handmade setting will disappear; they will coexist with the more modern techniques.
Getting back to the years when photography was only a hobby, did the feeling change once it became your work?
[The question makes Isma laugh.]
I still love it. The feeling is the same as it was on the first day.
Of course, professional work comes with limitations. Some clients narrow the possibilities. Sometimes the budget does not allow the idea to fully unfold. There are always boundaries.
Those restrictions often appear with larger clients, where there may be less room for creative freedom. Smaller clients can be different. Their budgets may be more modest, but when they come to you because they have seen your work and trust your eye, they often give you space to approach the project through your own visual language.
In the end, you have to enjoy the process while you are inside it. That energy shapes the final image. It is what gives the work strength—and what allows it to reach someone new.
Do you prefer photography to post-production?
[He takes a moment before answering.]
If I had to choose, I would choose photography. I love the creative process: working with a team, building the scene, and watching an idea begin to take physical form.
But I enjoy post-production as well. For as long as I can remember, I have only outsourced retouching once or twice, usually because there was simply no time. I prefer to do it myself, even if it means losing sleep over it [Isma chuckles].
Is there anything you would change about the business?
Well, I would love to have a steadier rhythm of work. What I enjoy the least is the imbalance—one week there is very little happening, and the next I am so overwhelmed that I barely make it home in time to see my son.
Finding a middle ground would be ideal. A pace that leaves room not only to create, but also to live.
Maybe next year [he smiles].
Isma, thank you for your time. To close, what do you hope for in your creative development over the coming years?
I am looking forward to taking concept photography further—to reaching another level in how I build images, ideas, and visual worlds.
Above all, I feel drawn toward video direction. I am confident that, in the coming years, I will begin moving more deeply into that field.
[It will undoubtedly be exciting to watch that evolution unfold.]
Photography: Ismael Yunta (Madrid)
Text & Editing: Freedom Writers