“La Isla Mínima started several years ago, in a photographic exhibition I attended with Alex Catalán, a cinematographer and good friend. The Sevillian photographer Atín Aya had devoted to capture the last vestiges of a way of life that developed in the Guadalquivir marshes for half a century. Many of the pictures were portraits of locals, and they transmitted some kind of resignation, distrust and harshness, pervading those faces stuck in the past, which, with the mechanisation of the agriculture, might not find their place in an immediate future. The exhibition was the reflection of the end of a period, the end of an era. This was my first contact with ‘La Isla’ (The Island) – a crepuscular landscape, the setting of an end-of-cycle western.”