Hold together by thirteen stories, the 2016 Lavazza Calendar captures the shift between the generations, between parents and children.
From father to son is a journey that takes us to Central and South America, where generations of coffee farmers pass down their love for the land and coffee to their offsprings.
Through the lens of one of my favorite visual storytellers, amazing photographer Joey Lawrence, we get to witness and celebrate the intimate relationship between people and the land.
“It is the knowledge of fathers, daily handed down by working together, that will enable the young generation to look forward and dream over, cultivating the relationship with the land and its products, through the principles of sustainability.
To find out more about the project you can visit the website of 2016 Lavazza Calendar. Because I wanted to show more about this project, I took the liberty of adding portions of the copy presented for each month of the calendar.
When my father and I go to the plantations, he always repeats that we are a family of coffee growers, that I should never forget this and should always be proud of it.
My father is an authority at Lambarì: he was elected president of the community twice. A place that thrives on coffee, where everyone owns his own land and, together, we collaborate with Lavazza.
At Tlaola we are all women, mothers and daughters. Since 1992 we have been running the Mopampa organisation, where we produce serrano chili peppers. Ours is not just a commercial activity, but a cultural one. With our daily endeavours we promote women’s rights.
I always take my son around with me here in the ¡Tierra! community of Villa Esperanza. I want him to get accustomed to travelling as soon as possible. He needs to get to know the world through his own eyes and not through stories or TV. He needs to study and shape his own awareness. He needs to grow in stature and spirit with every experience.
I am a descendant of the Wayuu, a nomadic tribe from the Guajira region, in the north of Colombia. Although our region is bathed by the Caribbean Sea, the climate is hot and semi-desert. It doesn’t rain for very long periods, growing any produce is difficult, but I am tied to this land. In the past, our ancestors invoked the harvest with dances and rituals. Nowadays we make use of more practical aids: Slow Food for example, which supports us in developing techniques for growing beans mostly, but also pumpkins and corn.
Something special happened tonight: for the first time, I went up to the plantations with my father and I taught him something. When we meet there, he’s usually the one who starts talking and I listen. Ever since he carried me on his shoulders he has told me stories about our huge family, numbering a good of 125 people; about how the land we have here in the mountains has been handed down from generation to generation, through very strict divisions.
The elders say that oysters are precious. They are for me. From February to December I go to the river with my uncle to pick them. He has been doing it since he was my age. In turn, he learned from my grandfather, the first one here to invent the trade of oyster farming. And so every day my uncle and I set out early in our boat. Then we wait for the level of the river to go down and we harvest them. The oysters are on the roots of the mangrove trees.
Like many here in Lambarì, I’m from a family that lives thanks to coffee. My father Isauil and my mother Teresa have always worked on plantations. I started when I was 19 and have done it ever since. But at a certain point, I felt drawn to the “big city” and moved to São Paulo, where I started a small coffee roasting company. But roots are everything and so I returned to Lambarì six years ago and decided I’d never leave again.
When I have a book in my hands, it’s as if my body goes elsewhere and enters into the stories. It’s something magical that happens every time. Reading takes me far away: I keep my eyes fixed on the pages and, at the same time, I follow the flight of my body and mind.
I work at the Zapotitlàn Salinas with my uncle, the man behind me in the picture, and my father. Before us, this is how my grandfather earned a living. This is common around here: everyone works in these beautiful salt pans, set amidst the canyons of the Sierra Madre Oriental. Only local labour works here, to keep the tradition alive.
I am the head of my family. With my daughter, her daughter and her daughter’s daughter, we represent four generations of women poised between past and future. I have great responsibility towards them and it weighs on me: I have to pass the baton of tradition on to all of them. Ours is the story of a family tied to coffee, one that has always been repeated and that will always continue.
Men around a fire feel closer. As if the flames burn down distances. My father and I often share such moments. After a day spent working, we sit down and talk about our lives. We dream. We talk about everyday life here in Chacra D’Dago, where we are passionate about running a biodynamic farm, one of the very few existing in Peru. We rear animals, we recycle and make compost, we protect the coffee plants and those in danger of extinction. This work is also highly appreciated by Slow Food, with which we are looking to collaborate even more. We train the farmers, pass on our experience to them and many foreigners come to stay with us because we believe in biodiversity and sustainable agriculture. But perhaps what distinguishes us most of all is the quality of the coffee we produce and grow in the shade of forest areas, without using chemical fertilizers. Our work is never dull; it is hard at times, but it is our work and we are proud of what we are. This is what we say to each another in the evening in front of the fire.
I live with my family in El Aguacate, a village in the Dominican Republic at an altitude of 1200 metres. I love these places and would not trade my mountains for anything in the world, although this is not a very favorable moment in history. My father says that we’ve never had such terrible weather: we’re forced to tackle with lengthy droughts and the spread of “Roya” blight that has seriously endangered the coffee plantations.
Lavazza Calendar 2016 – From Father to Son – The presentation of the Project
Discover the 2016 Lavazza Calendar and the stories behind Joey L’s shots of the calendar