The Guggenheim in Motion, Interpreting an Icon with the Fuji X-Pro2

Over the past eight years, I have explored the museum through my photography, capturing both its iconic architecture and its dialogue with the city.

Photographing the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao is, for me, an ongoing visual dialogue rather than a completed project. The building is not only one of the most recognizable works of contemporary architecture, but also a symbol of how a city can redefine itself through culture. Since its inauguration in 1997, the Guggenheim has transformed Bilbao from an industrial port into an international destination for art and architecture. Its presence reshaped the riverfront, the urban landscape, and the identity of the city itself. For many people, Bilbao is inseparable from the Guggenheim, and the museum has become a visual and cultural reference point for the city.

I began photographing the museum around eight years ago, initially without a clear long-term intention. I live in Bermeo, about 35 kilometers from Bilbao, and every time I travel to the city for any reason, I always take my Fujifilm X-Pro2 with me. This habit turned the Guggenheim into a recurring presence in my photographic life. I was immediately drawn to the titanium surfaces, the fluid lines, and the constant interaction with light and weather. Over time, through repeated and often unplanned visits, the project became more personal and reflective. The Guggenheim evolved into a familiar subject, almost a companion, changing with the seasons, the time of day, and my own photographic sensibility. Each return offered new possibilities, allowing me to move beyond simple documentation toward interpretation.

One of the main challenges in photographing such an iconic building is avoiding the obvious image. The Guggenheim has been photographed endlessly, from the same celebrated viewpoints that dominate postcards, guidebooks, and social media. Working with a subject so deeply embedded in the collective imagination requires a conscious effort to see differently. The challenge is not technical, but conceptual: finding a personal visual language that respects the building’s iconic status while distancing itself from repetition and visual clichés.

For this reason, I often choose to work in black and white. Removing color shifts the attention toward form, contrast, texture, and rhythm. The titanium panels become abstract surfaces, reflections turn into graphic elements, and shadows create new geometries. Black and white helps detach the museum from its touristic image and places it in a more timeless and sculptural dimension. It allows the emotional and architectural qualities of the building to emerge without distraction.

Alongside this approach, I frequently use ICM (Intentional Camera Movement) techniques to exaggerate even further the strong sense of movement that the building already suggests through its design. Although the Guggenheim is static, its forms appear fluid and dynamic. By introducing controlled movement during exposure, rigid lines dissolve into flowing gestures. This method amplifies the energy of the architecture and translates my physical presence into the image. The photograph becomes less about description and more about perception, rhythm, and emotion.

All photographs in this project were taken with a Fujifilm X-Pro2, using the XF23mm f/1.4 and the XF27mm f/2.8 lenses. These focal lengths are not simply technical choices, but a personal way of looking at the world. Over time, they have become the perspective through which I observe spaces, architecture, and everyday life. They allow me to stay physically close to my subject while maintaining a natural and honest relationship with it, without distortion or excessive distance. This way of seeing encourages me to move, to search for details, and to engage actively with the environment rather than observe it from afar. Working consistently with the same focal lengths has shaped my visual language and the rhythm of my photography.