Capturing Life’s Moments One Frame at a Time with Adi Pranoto
Photography is an art form that captures moments in time and allows us to revisit them over and over. Some people like it as a hobby, while others consider it a way of life. In this interview, we speak with a company owner, Adi Pranoto, who has become an avid photographer, and his path through photography is as inspiring as the photographs he creates. From street photography on business trips to exploring cultural landscapes and human connections, his tale is one of curiosity, enthusiasm, and the pursuit of significant experiences.
Who are you, and how did your passion in photography start?
I am the owner of Cobra Dental, a distributor of dental goods and tools. My passion in photography arose from numerous excursions to suppliers in many cities and nations. I typically chronicled these visits using street photography. Now that I have entrusted the business to my children, I have more time to dedicate to my passion.
What was your most memorable trip with Mahacaraka®, and why?
Each journey with Mahacaraka has been memorable. These visits have been extremely rewarding for me because of the experiences I’ve received and the wonderful images I’ve taken.
What is your favourite photo from a Mahacaraka® tour and why?
My fave photograph is of Pasola. Prior to joining Mahacaraka, I attempted to photograph Pasola under the supervision of Romo Efrem (†), who is well-known in the community. Despite his assistance, I could not acquire a good shot. However, with Mahacaraka’s supervision, I was able to acquire several stunning images, including portraiture, street shots, documentary, panning, and action shots.
Have you ever considered turning photography into a business, such as selling your work or becoming a professional photographer? Why ?
For the time being, I am pleased with my hobbies. I prefer to avoid the complexity of professionalism, such as learning sophisticated procedures, using equipment, post-processing, and managing data.
Who or what inspires you in photography?
My grandmother. During my school years, I lived with her in the village and learnt life philosophies and principles that I still cherish. Her ideas on social interaction, religious life, and balance influence how I capture life with my lens.
Which photographic genre are you interested in researching further, and why?
I’m getting ready to try bird photography because I have a few possibilities coming up. I’ve already purchased the necessary equipment, including a sufficient focal length lens.
Have you ever considered turning photography into a business, such as selling your work or becoming a professional photographer? Why ?
For the time being, I am pleased with my hobbies. I prefer to avoid the complexity of professionalism, such as learning sophisticated procedures, using equipment, post-processing, and managing data.
What is your favourite photography genre? What attracts you to it?
I don’t have a certain genre yet, but human interest photography is especially appealing and hard. It frequently necessitates rapid decisions to capture the proper moment.
Who or what inspires you in photography?
My grandmother (†). During my school years, I lived with her in the village and learnt life philosophies and principles that I still cherish. Her ideas on social interaction, religious life, and balance influence how I capture life with my lens.
How do you retain physical stamina and endurance for trip photography, especially given your age?
Reflexes and physical strength suffer as people get older. I carefully choose destinations that are suitable for my physical ability. Regular exercise, adequate relaxation, a balanced diet, and keeping cheerful are essential for preserving my fitness.
If you could only use one lens, which would it be and why?
I’d go with a 35mm lens because it allows for proper framing without distortion.
What is your dream destination, and why?
I have numerous dream destinations: Nias for its fascinating culture, Wakatobi and Derawan for their natural beauty, Badui Dalam for its distinct community life, Bali for its rich culture, and Timika for its festivals. Internationally, I would like to visit Pakistan, Iran, Mexico, and Antarctica.
Could you explain your photographic style?
Relaxed and quite spontaneous.
What do you appreciate best about photography, and why?
I adore documenting events or objects that reflect my life experiences. It’s a means to compare them to current realities.
What is the most difficult challenge you’ve faced in photography, and how did you overcome it?
The most difficult challenge has been the physical strain of transporting equipment and travelling to remote sites. I typically employ porters or use vehicles to get as near to the place as possible.
How do you interact with your subjects, especially when photographing them?
I start with a pleasant gesture, such as holding the camera at chest level while smiling. If they appear amenable, I engage in light chat before shooting the shot. If they express discomfort, I respect their boundaries and do not proceed.
Are there any other creative forms that inspire your photography? If so, which ones?
No, I haven’t found any other art forms to inspire my photography.
Through this interview, it is clear that photography from Adi Pranoto’s perspective is more than just capturing photographs; it is also about weaving tales, connecting with people, and cherishing life’s precious moments. His experience demonstrates the power of passion and perspective. Whether discovering cultural diversity, indulging in nature, or recalling cherished memories, photography remains a meaningful and gratifying activity. It’s a gentle reminder that the beauty of life is frequently found in the small aspects that we take time to enjoy.
Dancing with Shadows in the Heart of Mexico
In the heart of Mexico, where old customs mingle harmoniously with modern life, one festival stands out—a brilliant, colourful reminder that death is not the end, but rather the continuation of life’s journey. Every year, on 1st and 2nd November, the living gather to honour the deceased in a festival that captures the heart of Mexican culture. This is Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, a time when families come together to memorialise and honour those who have passed away, accepting death as a normal part of life.
Though Dia de los Muertos is commonly connected with Catholicism and All Souls Day, its origins can be traced back to pre-Columbian Mesoamerica. Long before the arrival of Spanish conquistadors and Christianity, Mexico’s indigenous peoples, particularly the Aztecs, practiced rituals and ceremonies to honour the dead. These pre-Hispanic tribes saw death as a transition to a new stage of life, not the end. The souls of the departed were considered to reside in Mictlan, the underworld, where they would wait for the perfect moment to be reunited with their loved ones during a memorial festival.
When the Spanish arrived in the 16th century, they brought with them Catholic traditions such as All Souls’ Day and All Saints’ Day, which took place on November 1st and 2nd, respectively. Instead of replacing indigenous practices, these new religious customs melded with traditional Mesoamerican beliefs, resulting in a unique hybrid known as Dia de los Muertos. This syncretism enabled the event to evolve into a celebration that was both deeply spiritual and profoundly cultural, honouring the dead while expressing present ideals.
While All Souls’ Day in Catholicism is solemnly dedicated to praying for the dead to help their souls in purgatory, Dia de los Muertos is a more festive celebration. It is a time of celebration, not grief, as families prepare magnificent ofrendas (altars) to welcome their ancestors’ spirits back into their homes. Ofrendas are decorated with images of the departed, their favourite meals, marigold flowers (known as cempasúchil), and candles to direct souls back from the afterlife. The mixing of Catholic and indigenous traditions is most seen in the symbolism of the sugar skulls, which signify both death and the sweetness of life.
The shift from the sombre tones of All Souls’ Day to the joyful celebration of Dia de los Muertos illustrates Mexico’s indigenous peoples’ endurance and ingenuity. They turned a Christian ceremony into a cultural expression that represents the idea that life and death are inextricably linked. This dichotomy is what distinguishes Dia de los Muertos from other global commemorations of the dead—here, death is accepted, even mocked, as an unavoidable part of life’s cycle.
Perhaps the most prominent image linked with Dia de los Muertos is La Catrina, the elegantly dressed skeleton who is frequently seen wearing a wide-brimmed hat and flowing robe. While La Catrina may appear to be a classic emblem, her story is considerably more recent. José Guadalupe Posada, a humorist and political cartoonist, designed the figure in the early twentieth century. Posada’s original illustration was a commentary on Mexican society, ridiculing the upper class’s infatuation with European dress and denial of their indigenous heritage. He portrayed death as the great equaliser, not something to fear—whether rich or poor, we all face the same fate.
La Catrina rapidly became a popular Dia de los Muertos symbol, representing the belief that death is part of life’s natural order and should be embraced with grace and dignity. During the event, ladies frequently dress as La Catrina, painting their faces to resemble skulls and donning expensive outfits. This act of transformation is more than just honouring the deceased; it is also a means to reflect on the ephemeral essence of existence. As La Catrina reminds us, death happens to everyone, but how we live—and are remembered—is what matters most.
Dia de los Muertos has spread beyond Mexico’s boundaries, into popular culture around the world. In recent years, the festival has acquired international attention, thanks in part to films such as Coco, which eloquently depicts the essence of family relationships and memories. Despite its expanding global appeal, the celebration’s heart remains firmly anchored in Mexican custom.
Families in Mexico continue to visit cemeteries on Dia de los Muertos, bringing food, music, and storytelling to their loved ones’ graves. The cemeteries, which were previously silent, are now filled with laughter, songs, and the smells of food as the living commune with the deceased. This cultural continuity demonstrates the festival’s ongoing force, and it serves as a reminder that honouring the deceased is as much about maintaining their memory as it is about celebrating life.
While Dia de los Muertos’ essential aspects have stayed consistent, the event has not been immune to change. Large parades and public festivities, like as those staged in Mexico City, have recently emerged as significant features of the celebration. Media and film portrayals have contributed to the increased scale and prominence of these events. Despite the more commercial parts that have arisen, Dia de los Muertos maintains a strong sense of personal and social connectedness.
For many people, this event serves as a link to the past while also motivating them to think about their own mortality. The ofrendas, skulls, and La Catrina all serve as reminders that death is not to be feared, but rather accepted as part of the journey. This love-filled and reverent approach to death is what distinguishes Dia de los Muertos.
As the marigolds grow in vivid orange and candles burn in the darkness, the spirits of the departed return to partake in the warmth of human recollection. Dia de los Muertos is more than just a festival; it is a celebration of life through the prism of death, demonstrating the power of memory. Each altar tells a tale, and each contribution symbolises the strong links of family and love. We are reminded of the value of life and the lasting power of memory when we commemorate the deceased.
According to the well-known Mexican poet Octavio Paz, “To the people of New York, Paris, or London, ‘death’ is a word that is never uttered because it burns the lips.” The Mexican, on the other hand, visits it frequently, mocks it, embraces it, and sleeps with it. It is his favourite plaything and his most enduring passion. And it is in this joyful dance with death that Dia de los Muertos stands out as one of Mexico’s most meaningful expressions—a reminder that by remembering the dead, we also honour the living.
A Day to Honour, A Night to Illuminate
As the golden hues of fall leaves coat the landscapes of Europe, a peaceful reverence descends over towns and villages. All Saints’ Day, observed on 1st November, is a long-standing custom that connects history, faith, and culture. To understand it we must return to the early centuries of Christianity. Martyrs were revered characters in the aftermath of unrelenting persecution, their sacrifices imprinted on the collective memory of the faithful. Initially, particular days were set aside to honour these martyrs individually, but as their number expanded, it became impractical to devote one day to everyone.
The origins of a united celebration are commonly traced back to the fourth century, when the Eastern Orthodox Church established a day to honour all martyrs. This practice slowly extended westward. By the seventh century, Pope Boniface IV had consecrated the Pantheon in Rome to the Virgin Mary and all martyrs on May 13th, changing it from a pagan monument to a beacon of Christian veneration.
All Saints’ Day did not always have a fixed date. In the eighth century, Pope Gregory III moved the feast to November 1st in order to coincide with the dedication of a chapel in St. Peter’s Basilica to all saints. This deliberate timing coincided with Samhain, an ancient Celtic celebration commemorating the end of the harvest season and the arrival of winter, a time typically linked with the dead.
This overlap was more than a coincidence. In its quest to convert pagan traditions, the Church frequently adopted local customs to facilitate the conversion to Christianity. By adding Christian importance to existing festivals, the Church created recognisable institutions inside the new faith.
All Saints’ Day is now honoured in a variety of ways around the world, each with its own set of local customs and beliefs. In Mexico, this day is part of the wider Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) celebrations. Families create magnificent altars filled with marigolds, candles, and photographs to remember their dead loved ones. It’s a lively combination of indigenous Aztec ceremonies and Catholic customs, reflecting the country’s diverse cultural heritage.
Cemeteries across Europe shimmer softly with the light of innumerable candles. Families visit cemeteries in nations such as Poland and Austria, leaving flowers and lanterns as a touching memorial that illuminates the night and represents eternal life.
In the Philippines, this day is known as “Undas.” It is a time for family reunions, with individuals returning to their hometowns to clean and refinish gravestones, offer prayers, and share meals in memory of the deceased.
All Saints’ Day is more than just a memorial; it is a profound recognition of the spiritual connection between the living and the dead. The saints, canonised or not, are models of faith and virtue. By honouring them, the faithful get inspiration and intercession. The day also emphasises the notion of the “Communion of Saints,” which holds that all believers, living and dead, have spiritual solidarity. It serves as a reminder that sanctity is a general call rather than one reserved for a chosen few.
In modern times, All Saints’ Day is paired with the secular celebration of Halloween. While Halloween has its roots in ancient traditions, it has grown into a primarily commercial and entertainment-focused event. Some regard this as a diminishment of the sacredness of All Saints’ Day, while others welcome the juxtaposition of seriousness with festivity.
The Church continues to emphasise the significance of the day, inviting believers to reflect on the lives of saints and their own spiritual journeys. Vigils and processions are organised in some towns, giving new life to long-standing traditions. All Saints’ Day’s continuing relevance stems from its ability to connect the past and the present. It acts as a cultural touchstone, bringing various societies together via a shared recognition of mortality and yearning for something greater.
According to anthropologists and historians, death rituals are an intrinsic part of human society. They offer structure at times of loss and promote a sense of continuity. All Saints’ Day, in its different forms, serves this purpose by providing comfort and a way to remember those who have died.
All Saints’ Day’s influence extends to the arts and music. Composers such as Franz Liszt and Anton Bruckner have composed works based on contemporary subjects. Visual artists have depicted saints and feast traditions, leaving an enduring legacy. The topics of recollection and sanctity have received a lot of attention in literature. From John Donne’s poetry works to modern storylines, the idea of sainthood and mortality continues to captivate.
Among the complications of modern life, All Saints’ Day provides a moment of pause—an opportunity to look back and reflect, to discover common ground in shared traditions. It’s a day that crosses boundaries and denominations, bringing people together in a communal act of memory.
As darkness sets on 1st November, the flicker of candles in windows and on gravestones serves as a soothing reminder of those who came before us. Despite the passing of centuries, this tradition remains highly personal and profoundly communal. In celebrating All Saints’ Day, we honour not only the saints of the past, but also the enduring human spirit—the yearning to connect, remember, and find meaning in the tales that form our lives.
All Saints’ Day exemplifies tradition’s persistence and the timeless value of memory. It’s a day steeped in history, full of cultural diversity, and spiritual meaning. We celebrate by participating in a ritual that has developed throughout time while remaining anchored in universal experiences such as life, death, and the aspiration for transcendence.
Whether it’s the silent lighting of a candle, the gathering of families, or the collective prayers offered in sanctuaries around the world, All Saints’ Day remains a profound reminder of humanity’s search for connection with the holy and one another.