Boys from Negro River

In order to explain the value these images have for my life, I’ll just take a step back in time and tell of my origins. I’m from the Brazilian state of Acre, born of São Paulo born Marly Gennari and Santa Catarina born João Tezza who in 1972 migrated to Acre where I was born in 1974. In those days Rio Branco was a quiet place, urban violence was unheard of. A magical time of freedom between friends and long walks through forests that separated districts away from the city’s downtown.



Back then there was an atmosphere of deep mystery and adventure among buddies that grew up amidst rivers and streams in the Amazon Rainforest. One had difficulty studying since everything conspired for us to just continue our happy playful lives and explore new places, sometimes quite far off. We used to wander around in groups of ten, fifteen or even twenty kids. Even when we got into our traditional afternoon soccer play, all activities somehow ended up in a river or other. Our most common activities were river baths, getting our kites up, bicycle riding, again river baths, searching for ripe fruit and yet more dips into the river — while feeling that those were magical and unique moments of integration with nature, in tune with one’s own times (and not with the ticking of clocks), feeling the climate, the sun and the gentle arrival of evenings — a time in which we had to get back to our homes.

When I began my career as a photographer, from the very first assignment my childhood defined the environment as the main focus of my inspiration. I began to document in favor of the people who live in the forest aside from the forest itself. Sixteen years have gone by and exactly when I was returning from a research for a documentary on boats and ships of the Amazon aboard a speed boat over Negro River in the vicinity of Manaus, I decided to stop at a beach to refresh myself.



That beach was deserted but the quiet soon gave way to many riverine children who, just like me when I was their age, sought the water. That vision paralyzed me in such a way that I could do nothing else but watch. A few minutes later, with water up to their waists, I asked them if I could take some pictures — they climbed up a half-submersed tree due to the rainy season with incredible ease, scuttling up to the highest branch to then drop into the water below. Without any signs of fatigue, they would return to the tree after more acrobatic dives. I approached them and, with barely fifteen centimeters between us, game my Nikon camera the honor of shooting some magical pics. These images reminisce of my own childhood origins, my very first background and contain the elements that defined my profession, my own code of ethics and my struggles.



is now the drive for an artistic project where I propose the initiation of riverine youngsters into the art of photography. Aside from that, I am going to increase my collection of magical moments of freedom and joy of these riverine kids — it is a beautiful sight to see when one witnesses just how much these little sons of the forest are integrated with the river and how their eyes sparkle when they dive. “We have no fear!” they say. Only joy. Truly.


José Tezza is a documenter and photographer