Alessandra Sanguinetti - On the Sixth Day

E disse Deus: Produza a terra seres viventes segundo as suas espécies: animais domésticos, répteis, e animais selvagens segundo as suas espécies. E assim foi. Deus, pois, fez os animais selvagens segundo as suas espécies, e os animais domésticos segundo as suas espécies, e todos os répteis da terra segundo as suas espécies. E viu Deus que isso era bom.
E disse Deus: Façamos o homem à nossa imagem, conforme a nossa semelhança; domine ele sobre os peixes do mar, sobre as aves do céu, sobre os animais domésticos, e sobre toda a terra, e sobre todo réptil que se arrasta sobre a terra. Criou, pois, Deus o homem à sua imagem; à imagem de Deus o criou; homem e mulher os criou. Então Deus os abençoou e lhes disse: Frutificai e multiplicai-vos; enchei a terra e sujeitai-a; dominai sobre os peixes do mar, sobre as aves do céu e sobre todos os animais que se arrastam sobre a terra. Disse-lhes mais: Eis que vos tenho dado todas as ervas que produzem semente, as quais se acham sobre a face de toda a terra, bem como todas as árvores em que há fruto que dê semente; ser-vos-ão para mantimento. E a todos os animais da terra, a todas as aves do céu e a todo ser vivente que se arrasta sobre a terra, tenho dado todas as ervas verdes como mantimento. E assim foi. E viu Deus tudo quanto fizera, e eis que era muito bom. E foi a tarde e a manhã, o dia sexto. in Genesis

"To portray an animal is to name it. Once named it acquires a new life, and then, is spared death. Each sacrifice gives us back a disturbing image of the border we cross when we end a life, and what it entails to have sole dominion over another living creature. It is possible that by exploring the fine line that separates us from what we rule, we may reach a better understanding of our own nature."- Alessandra Sanguinetti

"Buzz surrounds Alessandra Sanguinetti's solo exhibition of photographs at Yossi Milo Gallery in Chelsea, though it is the kind of attention usually reserved for works that confound rather than entice. Ms. Sanguinetti's color photographs were shot on farms in Argentina, and most depict domesticated animals and edible livestock -- sounds kind of snooze-inducing, right? But the artist has lowered her camera to ground level to capture moments of tender and poignant interaction between the animals (including two kids, right). Some of the animals appear in later frames slaughtered, skinned and dangling from poles or ropes, ready for the butcher's chopping block. Everything is depicted with a cold objectivity bordering on the clinical, while the heavy black wood box frames surrounding the prints look like miniature coffins. We even see the bloody instruments used for the carnage, all of which might be tolerable were it not captured in lush C prints that enhance the color and details. This contrast of the slick ravishment of the prints and the frequent gross-out of the subject matter is part of what makes the images so arresting and thought-provoking. You may not like what you see here, but the exhibition is completely unforgettable."

In New York Times By BENJAMIN GENOCCHIO Published: October 6, 2006

Alessandra Sanguinetti's best shot

'One kid's head was covered with a sock, so the other could get at the teat'

"Juana lives by the side of the road and keeps animals. She lives in the Argentine countryside, 300km outside Buenos Aires. I arrived there one day in 1996 after four hours of driving. It was really cold, and my car had no heating, but Juana had a little coal stove and gave me some hot cakes before I saw these two baby kids.
They had been born a couple of days before. One was very weak. Juana said that if she didn't tie it to the healthy sibling, the mother would just leave it alone to die, like most animals do. She also covered the healthy one's head with a sock so that the weak one would get a chance at the teat. As a result, the stronger one was just pulling and pulling blindly - desperately searching for its mother, while the other one was keeping it back, even though it just wanted to lie down and fall asleep. I saw them during the last few minutes of winter light, when it is orange and perfect, so I just knelt and followed them on my belly and elbows until the sun went down. I used a Hasselblad camera, with just natural light and probably an 80mm lens. If I had got there five minutes later I would not have got that picture. It's an image of struggle, quite unsentimental, and it crystallises something for me I can't explain in words. That's why I took a picture.
I took the sick kid to my father's farm and fed it, next to the fire. I named her Rosita, which means little rose, and by the next day she was stronger already. I had to go back to the city, so I left her with Juana, who took care of her, marking her forehead with red paint so that her son would not shoot her. I don't know where Rosita is now, but I know she lived a long time and had a lot of offspring. She was saved partly by having a warm night - but also by being given a name." in The Guardian Interview by Leo BenedictusThursday December 20, 2007