Thibault Gerbaldi
PX3 Prix de la Photographie Paris 2024 – State of the World
Curatorial Selection – Cultural Resilience
Q: How has your personal background or life experiences influenced the global issues and stories you choose to capture through your photography?
I’ve always been drawn to places where culture, resilience, and change intersect. Being a self-taught photographer and lifelong traveller, I approach each destination with deep curiosity and respect. My experiences—particularly those in remote and underserved communities—have opened my eyes to stories often left untold. These moments, lived and shared, influence not only what I choose to photograph but also how I engage with the people and environments I encounter. I’m especially moved by traditions that endure in the face of adversity and the quiet strength of everyday life. That’s where I find the stories that matter.
Q: What inspired you to submit your work to The State of the World competition, and how has receiving this recognition from PX3 impacted your journey as a photographer?
The State of the World competition resonated with my belief that photography has a role to play in bearing witness to transformation—whether environmental, social, or cultural. My work often focuses on people living at the margins of modernity, and PX3 provided a powerful platform to share those stories. Being recognized by such a respected institution gave me confidence that my voice—rooted in empathy and storytelling—has a place in the larger conversation. It’s not just an award; it’s encouragement to keep going.
Q: Can you take us behind the scenes of your winning series? What was the story you aimed to tell, and did any unexpected moments shape the final result?
This series was born out of a deep admiration for the resilience of Andean communities and their enduring bond with alpacas. I aimed to explore this symbiotic relationship, highlighting how alpacas are integral not only to economic stability but also to cultural identity and spiritual traditions. Weaving, for instance, serves as a tangible expression of Quechua heritage, carrying patterns and techniques passed down through generations.
A particularly profound moment occurred during an alpaca ceremony, where the family’s elders gathered to offer prayers to Pachamama—the revered Earth Mother goddess in Andean cosmology, symbolising fertility and the sustaining force of life —and to the Inca deities. Witnessing their heartfelt communication with the land and their ancestors was deeply moving. It underscored the spiritual depth of their connection to the earth and the animals they depend on. This unexpected experience enriched the narrative of the series, emphasizing that these traditions are not merely about livelihood but are profound acts of reverence and continuity amidst changing times.
Q: Your work highlights some of the most crucial and pressing issues in today’s world. How do you balance technical precision with the raw emotion needed to create a powerful, thought-provoking image?
For me, emotion comes first—technique follows. I try not to let perfection get in the way of presence. The goal is always to capture the feeling of a moment, not just its form. That said, technical precision helps create clarity and structure, so I work to master it quietly, in the background. But when I raise my camera, I’m led by instinct and empathy. The balance comes from being fully immersed and technically prepared but emotionally open.
Q: Photography has the ability to raise awareness, shift perspectives, and even inspire action. What role do you believe visual storytelling plays in addressing global challenges?
A: Visual storytelling gives form to the invisible. It allows people to connect with realities they might never personally encounter. A single image can spark empathy, start a conversation, or plant a seed of reflection. That emotional resonance is essential in addressing global challenges, which often feel abstract or distant. My hope is that photography can humanize these issues—bring them closer, make them matter.
Q: Your winning image is a reflection of an important moment or reality—how do you approach the responsibility of documenting such impactful stories?
With humility and care. When you photograph someone’s reality—especially when it’s shaped by hardship—you carry the responsibility to represent it truthfully, respectfully, and without sensationalism. I spend time building trust, listening, and observing. I don’t want to impose a narrative but rather reflect what is already there. The responsibility is not just to the subject but to the viewer as well—to offer an honest, dignified window into another life.
Q: Looking ahead, are there any social or environmental themes you feel compelled to explore further through your work?
Yes—especially the intersection between climate change and cultural survival. In many of the regions I’ve documented, shifting environments are forcing people to adapt in ways that endanger traditional knowledge, language, and livelihoods. I’m drawn to these transitions—how people hold on, reinvent, or quietly resist. I also want to continue highlighting the roles of women in sustaining communities, particularly in places where their contributions are often overlooked.
Q: What motivates you to continue capturing the world through your lens, and where do you hope to take your work in the future?
What keeps me going is the constant sense of wonder—and the privilege of being able to share that with others. Every journey teaches me something new about human resilience, beauty, and the fragility of our connection to the land. Photography is my way of holding onto those fleeting truths and offering them back, not as facts, but as felt experiences.
Looking ahead, my dream is to create a multi-sensorial exhibition—one that goes beyond the visual. I imagine combining my photographs with scents gathered or inspired by my travels, like the earthy dryness of the Namib or the smoky incense of Varanasi. I’d pair that with soundscapes: the hum of distant animals, wind sweeping through mountains, or the voices and songs of communities I’ve spent time with. I want viewers to feel like they’ve stepped into another world—to engage with the work not just with their eyes, but with all their senses.