Interview With Marc Smith, Lucha Libre Photographer, from Future Shipwreck

Great photography can make a moment be etched in time forever. That one fleeting instant of perfection in which a whole story can be written. Go onto various sites such as flickr, pinterest or instagram and see amazing work. Hell, you can spend hours there perusing categories, groups and portfolios looking at great imagery, then one in particular will strike like a dead blow hammer and floor ya.


That is kind of how we felt after checking out these Lucha Libre images by the photographer Marc Smith. His amazing lens work and attention to detail give these images an underbelly that can only be found in niche cultures.


Dig more into the article below from Future Shipwreck

Marc Smith is a Disney animator by day and Lucha Libre photographer by night. After graduating from CalArts, Smith began his animation career as an inbetweener on The Lion King and Pocahantas. Inbetweeners are responsible for drawing the tens of thousands of action images– yes, you guessed it– in between the key frames. Not a bad way to foster an understanding of the human figure’s multifarious angles and expressions.


By Smith’s own account, he was content expressing himself through drawings and sketches until “one fateful day, after enjoying a particularly garlicky plate of hummus as his girlfriend dug though her purse for a piece of gum, she handed him her camera to hold. Just then, a 400-pound man carrying a 2-pound dog rounded the corner. With no sketchbook in hand, he used the camera, and a passion was born.”
The seed of that newfound passion has borne some spectacular fruit. Smith’s images explode across the screen. They are as immediate and arresting as they are thoughtful and measured– a precise balance that can be traced back to the photographer’s keen sense of timing and fundamental understanding of the body. Smith was kind enough to send us over photos and share some thoughts on photography, the appeal of Luchadores, and the very real pain of searching for missing teeth.






How did you go from working as an animator for Disney to taking photos of Lucha Libre wrestlers, and how has your experience in animation informed your photographic technique?
I started using a camera to do studies for the cinematography on the movies I was working on. I found it to be a very powerful tool to record observations while I was out and about, but more than that and this came as quite a surprise to me, I found that photography was the perfect complement to an artist sketchbook. Because when you have an idea for a drawing you begin with absolutely no information on your paper, nothing, and your job is to put information down until your idea is realized.
Whereas with photography you begin with everything. A whole universe full of information and your job as an artist is to extract the information that doesn’t support your idea. For me the end goal of both is exactly the same. I’m just trying to push myself to see the subject in a new or a deeper way.


Do you wrestle, yourself?

No, I don’t wrestle. I would be pulverized in the ring. I’ve been shoved and kicked more than once (and it hurt)! I can tell you these guys are tough and they take the sport seriously.






What attracts you to the subject?

Passion! The passion of the performers but especially the passion of the crowds. In some parts of the world where there are not many examples of life being fair, the Luchadores are their superheroes– a means by which the people can watch the powers of good conquer the powers of evil.


Are there any sports photographers who’ve inspired you?

I wish that I was more familiar with the art of sport photography than I am but the truth is that I was focused only on shooting images that I felt would represent the series the best.


What is the social aspect of taking these photos like? Was it challenging to get these wrestlers comfortable with the camera to capture such intimate portraits? 

The wrestlers are both athletes and performers so photographing them in the ring is no problem because that is what they are there for. In time I learned to read the signs if someone was about to be thrown out of the ring into the audience or about to do a dangerous stunt. That’s not to say that what these men and women are doing isn’t real. I’ve seen serious injuries and spent time after the crowds have left searching for teeth that were knocked out during the matches.


That said, the shots of the performers taken backstage were more difficult. There is a long and illustrious history to the protection of the identity of a Luchador (the masks are a testament to this). An “unmasking” is considered to be a huge insult that could have repercussions lasting a lifetime. There are even examples of identities that have been passed down through the generations of a family. So the backstage work required a little finesse and a lot of respect. If I would have marched into the dressing room with my camera ready on the first night I would have learned more about wrestling than I wanted to know.

Jack Black Was Onto Something...

Jack Black may have been onto something a few years back in his movie Nacho Libre. Not just the fact that Lucha Libre is huge in Mexico but the fact that it puts the fun back in wrestling while also injecting it with an air of mystery. 

Jack Black in Nacho Libre

Wrestling has always been about larger than life characters, but there is just something alluring about watching a Lucha Libre match that is quite different from the bouts we see here in the US. Read up on the article below and have some insight into a recent match in Tijuana, Mexico as seen by a writer from Wired Magazine.

Various Lucha Libre posters from events in Reno, Nevada

Luchadores masks at a market in Mexico

Lucha Libre - Heros of the Ring advertising

Lucha Libre ring girl

Link to original article on Wired.com


When a friend heard I was going to Tijuana one Friday night a few years back, he shook his head and said, “Dude, you’re going to die.” I could only laugh as I said, “Naw, I’m not going to die. I’m going to lucha libre.”


Yes, that’s right, I’m talking about badass pro wrestling, Mexican-style.


As a wee Sol, I was fascinated by the professional wrestling I saw on TV and loved trying to catch them faking the drama. It was like trying to catch Santa (mom) stuffing presents in my stocking. There was something, too, about the crazy costumes and improbable personas that piqued my curiosity.There has in recent years been a plague of violence along the border, and I don’t mean to make light of it. But I figured if I was going to Tijuana looking like a goofy tourist and focusing my attention on the wrestling arena, the greatest threat I’d face would be a flying chair or two. Turned out it wasn’t even that bad. I didn’t even get Montezuma’s revenge.


So you can understand why I’d been wanting to catch lucha libre in TJ for quite some time. I got my chance while chasing down some Weird Sports in SoCal. From downtown San Diego, I took public transportation to the border and wandered along the nutty zig-zag pedestrian walkway across the border.






It’s easy to catch the action. Bouts are held almost every Friday at the Auditorio Municipal Fausto Gutierrez, a mere seven minutes from the border. It’s cheap, too, with tickets starting at five bucks.
I’m still kind of mad at myself for taking French in high school. What a waste. Sure, I can order a café au lait with the best of them, but Spanish would have been so much more useful. Predictably, plenty of people speak English in TJ, including my cabbie, who shuttled me to the auditorium. I found an ATM for some dinero and hopped in line for tickets. Few people were springing for the premier ringside section, so I joined the crowd in the cheap seats. Usually, I’ll try to wrangle a press pass, but sometimes it’s easier to go as a fan with a camera. And more fun. So that’s what I did.


I went through security with my gear with no problems. And then I found myself laughing at all the grown men wearing luchador masks being frisked by federales looking for weapons. It was surreal.





Hey Wiki. I’ve got a question for ya: What’s the story with lucha libre?


Well, Sol, in the early 1900s, professional wrestling was mostly a regional phenomenon in Mexico until Salvador Lutteroth founded the Empresa Mexicana de Lucha Libre (Mexican Wrestling Enterprise) in 1933, giving the sport a national foothold. The promotion company flourished and quickly became the premier spot for wrestlers. As television became a viable entertainment medium during the 1950s, Lutteroth could broadcast wrestling across the nation, subsequently yielding a popularity explosion for the sport. Moreover, the emergence of television allowed Lutteroth to turn lucha libre’s first breakout superstar into a national pop-culture phenomenon.


Thanks Wiki. Very insightful. And what’s the story on the masks?


Good question, man. Masks (máscaras) have been used from the beginning and have a historical significance to Mexico in general, dating to the Aztecs. Early masks were simple, with basic colors to distinguish the wrestler. In modern lucha libre, masks are colorfully designed to evoke the images of animals, gods, ancient heroes and other archetypes, whose identity the luchador assumes during a performance.


One thing I noticed is how family-friendly lucha libre is. Kids stared wide-eyed, mouths agape, at the body-slamming ballet. I’m guessing that’s how I looked when I was their age, watching WWF on the TV. I’ve seen smaller-production lucha Libre in Latino neighborhoods in L.A. and Denver. There’s a sense of love and trust between the wrestlers and the fans, and the whole thing feels like the world’s most awesome family reunion. Kids wander around the ring as sweaty sportsmen make sure not to squish them, even as they taunt fans who usually include their wives. For most of the night, I just wandered around taking photos, admiring the frenzied atmosphere and sipping on my namesake cerveza. Yep, living large.


After the bout, I caught a cab and returned back to the border after stopping for some amazing tacos. When I approached the American border officer, he looked at me straight faced and asked “Do you have anything to declare?”


“Definitely,” I said. “I declare I had a great time.”

Lucha Libre in Tijuana, Mexico