Welcome back to Sombra Y Cultura, the show where we bring light to the photographers of Latin America and the Spanish-speaking world whose work deserves far more recognition than it’s gotten.

I’m your host, Chris. And today’s episode… it’s one I’ve been thinking about for a while. We’re stepping into the work of a deeply observant, emotionally generous artist—someone who has spent her career capturing stories that often go unnoticed. Her name is Maya Goded.

If you’ve ever wondered what it looks like to photograph with patience, with humility, and with heart—Maya shows us the way.

Maya Goded was born in Mexico City in 1967. She grew up surrounded by color,sound, contrast—the kind of place where stories live on every corner. But unlike many photographers who chase the grand or the dramatic, Maya has always been drawn to the everyday.

To the quiet moments. The lives lived in between.

She studied photography under Manuel Álvarez Bravo and later found her voice not in grand gestures, but in close listening. That’s the thread through allher work: a respectful attention to people’s lived experiences.

Maya doesn’t rush. She doesn’t treat photography like a transaction. She builds trust, returns often, listens more than she speaks. And because of that,her images carry something rare—they feel earned.

One of her most meaningful and well-known projects is called "Plaza de la Soledad."

It focuses on women in Mexico City’s La Merced neighborhood who have spent much of their lives navigating a world that hasn't always been kind or fair. These women—resilient, humorous, warm, welcomed Maya into their spaces. And instead of reducing them to a role or a label, Maya chose to show them as whole people.

There’s one photograph from this series that stays with me. It features a woman lying on a bed, a child asleep next to her. The lighting is soft and natural, the room is modest; but the expression on her face says everything. There’s exhaustion, yes, but also strength. She’s not posing, she’s simply existing. And that’s what makes the image so powerful.

If you want to see the photo I’m talking about, I’ve included a direct link to here. You’ll find it at Maya's website. First row, middle picture.

Images like that don’t shout. They don’t dramatize. They invite you in. Gently. Fully.

And yet, despite the emotional depth and technical brilliance of her work, Maya Goded isn’t widely celebrated. Her name doesn’t show up in a lot of textbooks or retrospectives.

Why?

Well, for one, Maya doesn’t seek the spotlight. She doesn’t focus on trends or prestige. Her work lives in the real world, not the polished halls of gallery openings. She values people over performance, connection over attention.

And second, many of her subjects are those society often overlooks. People whose lives don’t always fit into neat, conventional boxes. That kind of work, while rich and powerful, can sometimes get passed over by institutions focused on the mainstream.

But here’s what matters: Maya’s impact isn’t measured by headlines or awards. It’s measured in the way her subjects are seen, truly seen; and in how her viewers walk away changed.

As a photographer myself, I find her work quietly transformative.

She reminds me that photography isn’t always about timing. Sometimes, it’s about patience. It’s about creating a space where people feel safe enough to be themselves; not just for the camera, but for themselves.

That’s something I think about a lot, especially when I’m out documenting sports, capturing not just the action, but the emotion that surrounds it. The stillness before a fight. The breath between rounds.

If you want to see how Maya’s approach has shaped how I shoot, feel free to check out my work throughout my website gallery. I’ve got so many photos, stories, and behind-the-scenes posts about what I’m learning, through the lens, and beyond it.

MY FINAL THOUGHTS
There’s something deeply grounding about Maya Goded’s photography. It doesn’t push. It doesn’t pull. It simply invites you to look a little longer, to listen a little deeper.

She reminds us that photography isn’t just about what’s in front of the camera. It’s about how we see. It’s about being present, being human, being willing to hold space for others, without judgment.

And even though she may not be as widely known as some of her peers, her work carries just as much weight, maybe more. Because it lasts. It lingers. It lives in the hearts of those who encounter it with openness.

So if this episode speaks to you, I encourage you to spend some time with Maya’s work. Let the quiet of her photographs say what words can’t. Let them remind you of the beauty in everyday resilience.

Thanks for tuning in to Sombra Y Cultura. If you’re enjoying the show, I’d be so grateful if you could rate it on Apple Podcasts or Spotify, or leave a short review. It helps more people find these stories, and it lets me keep bringing them to you.

And hey, if there’s someone in your life who would appreciate the kind of work Maya does, share this episode with them. You never know how one story can change someone’s perspective.

Until next time. Stay kind, stay curious, and keep finding the light in unexpected places.

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