Ruth made two expeditions to Galicia: the first one began in 1924 with her father, Alfred, and the second in 1925 with her colleague Frances Spalding. In all, she spent more than eleven months here, creating one of the most intense and deepest photographic portfolios ever made of our country. On this walk, we will try to answer various questions: why and how did she do it, and for what purpose? We’ll also try to any questions you may have along the way.
To begin with, let’s imagine that we are in the centre of the United States at the end of the 19th century: Ruth is born on a farm in Nebraska, a state that has not long been colonized, after the native tribes had been forced to ‘cede’ the territory. The land is difficult to cultivate and life is harsh, but the modernisation of the countryside and the arrival of the railway make the population grow, especially with European emigration, as was the case with her father’s Swedish family. Ruth grows up in a harsh environment that marks her vision of a life of dedication and effort. The family settles in Kearney and sets up a photography studio, specializing in panoramas and portraits, where she helps out after school. Her father, Alfred, takes and develops the photographs and her mother, Alma, takes care of the house and the three daughters, helps with the accounting and retouches the photos. Sundays in the Baptist church also mark the family life.
Young Ruth already doubts. At the university, she qualifies as a teacher, but she does not practice the profession. She also doesn’t fulfil the teenage dream of getting married and having a family, and the family study is not enough for her. She wishes to become a professional photographer and hesitates to go to distant New York to train at the famous school of Clarence White, known for promoting photography as an art and for encouraging women to make a living from photography. Before deciding, Ruth sends them a telegram to ask what kind of people go to the school. They answer her: ‘Very nice people, thanks!’. She takes the risk and goes. It is 1918, the World War is ongoing, and she spends cold winters of restrictions in the big city. She would later say about White that she received ‘wonderful things’ and she learns to highlight the role of light in composition.
After finishing her photography studies, she stayed in New York and dedicated herself to interior decoration. White feels that she’s wasting her talent. So in 1921, Ruth gets a call:
‘The Hispanic Society of America wants a photographer, a young woman and a Christian. Mr White has recommended you and would like you to apply. You are not doing anything important now, are you?’
Ruth hesitates again, but White insists and she agrees to go to an interview, where they tell her that
‘The work will not be easy. I cannot define exactly what it will be, but you may be sure that it will require whatever powers you have…’
‘Interesting’, she thinks. Nothing motivates her more than a challenge. She also meets with the founder of the Hispanic Society, Archer Milton Huntington, who points out that
‘Excellence required… It will be very hard work… We can’t promise you anything…’.
She immediately accepts, gets her first contract as a photographer and begins a working relationship with the Hispanic Society that will last the rest of her life. At first, she works in the museum, until a twist of fate saw them decide to send her to Spain to record traditional costumes and customs for a year, getting paid for the photographs she sends. And when faced with challenges, Ruth doesn’t hesitate. But what was the Hispanic Society, and what did it want from Ruth? We will talk about that at the next stop.
And why are we here? To answer that, we have to jump forward in history. Ruth and her father, Alfred, arrive by boat in Vigo on August 7, 1924. They visited several towns before coming to Compostela on September 26 from Pontevedra on a Castromil bus, like the ones that stopped at the entrance to the Castromil office, which was located at number 4 on Praza Fuenterrabía, or maybe she caught it to Rúa de Senra, where other buses stopped.
Let’s move forward, as Ruth and her father probably did, to Cantón do Toural.