How Erick Iniguez Is Turning Public Spaces into an Archive of Chicanx Life

For Erick Iniguez, photography is more than an interest — it’s a way to honor his roots and make visible the power of cultural expression long excluded from the mainstream.

Winner of Claremont Graduate University’s 2025 President’s Art Award, Iniguez’s work documents the overlooked rhythms of Chicanx and Indigenous life in Southern California, and in doing so, challenge the dominant narratives about who gets remembered and why. 

Born and raised in the San Fernando Valley to parents from Zacatecas and Jalisco, Iniguez grounds his artistic practice in personal history and a drive to preserve community memories. His interest in photography began as a child on family road trips, where he occasionally used his father’s cameras to document the places they visited. But it wasn’t until he took photography courses in community college that he started to hone his photography skills.

“I was focusing on cinematography and felt that photography would help in that endeavor; learning composition, lighting, and so on,” Iniguez says. “My camera also came with me to community and political events to capture moments. These experiences taught me that our histories were being told by others who were not part of our circles and would portray our communities without depth of our stories.”

His growing awareness of the absence of authentic representation and of cultural nuance drew him deeper into academia. Iniguez’s sense of purpose crystallized at LA Valley College under the mentorship of Professor Pete Lopez, and later at UC Santa Barbara, where he pursued Chicano/a and Indigenous studies.

His journey was neither linear nor easy, and that struggle has remained central to the way he understands the power of visual storytelling. 

“I choose stories that are not talked about or have been talked about from a different perspective,” he says. “For example, there are other photographers and journalists that have discussed horse-riding and Charreadas in the valley, but I didn’t see any discussion of horse riding as cultural affirmation and leisure without being performative. In much the same way most Chicanx/Latinx Photographers work, we want to highlight, engage, or amplify our stories.” 

This ethos of care and cultural continuity shapes the works honored by the President’s Art Award: La Milla, Jinetes Domingueros, and Pelota Mixteco.

All three are grounded in place — specifically, Hansen Dam and its surrounding spaces, where community traditions quietly unfold each weekend. These are not staged or romanticized moments; they are lived realities captured with intention and reverence. 

“This work is centered around the repurposing land for cultural expression and creation.” Iniguez says. “Hansen Dam was created to hold back water so that the Los Angeles River wouldn’t flood. Yet the community utilizes as much space in different areas to practice cultural production as well as for recreation.”

In La Milla, Iniguez reveals how this transformed landscape pulses with community energy: runners, parents, and children move through space with care and intent.

Jinetes Domingueros and Pelota Mixteco reflect informal gatherings rich in heritage. Horse riders in kinship, Oaxacan men playing a traditional ball game that links them to ancestral practices across generations. 

“I hope viewers see the strength, pride, and resilience that exists in these shared spaces that are often overlooked or misrepresented. I want my work to honor these moments of connection and celebrate the cultural richness that shapes our everyday lives.” 

These images are made powerful not just by their subjects, but by the tools and techniques Iniguez chooses to employ. His preference for film photography, particularly in panoramic formats, underscores a desire to slow down, to approach each image as a form of craft and contemplation. His methods resist the disposable pace of digital consumption. 

“The process of shooting with a film camera, whether large or medium format, or even a disposable camera, make you be methodical with each shot. You don’t know what you have until you develop the film and even then, small things might be off, and you have to try and edit after the fact. That means for one image you are really taking care of it longer than you would if it were digital. There is also a look that digital just can’t quite capture.” 

This deliberate approach to process echoes his belief in photography’s potential as a tool of archiving, especially for underrepresented communities. His experience working on a public histories project at The Claremont Colleges revealed a striking gap in visual documentation, a silence he is now working to fill. 

“I wanted to highlight the founders and early Chicanos on campus,” Iniguez says, “but there weren’t any usable photos. So, I created a zine that focused on the places and spaces we have utilized, to show that we have always engaged with the campuses to uplift us socially and academically.” 

For Iniguez, being included in CGU’s Presidential Art Collection is more than a personal achievement; it’s an acknowledgment of the communities and histories his work seeks to uplift. It’s also a moment of affirmation for an artist who has long wrestled with the self-doubt many creatives face. 

“It means a great deal to know that my images are part of a collection that values diverse perspectives and visual storytelling as a form of scholarship and cultural dialogue. We artists are always confronted with the monster of imposter syndrome, so this recognition feels deeply validating.” 

Still, awards and institutional support don’t diminish the responsibility that comes with documenting living communities. Iniguez approaches this responsibility with humility and intent, always aware of the line between amplification and appropriation. 

“I aim to amplify underrepresented voices while being mindful of the histories and contexts that shape the communities I photograph. My goal is to create images that are not only visually compelling but also socially conscious.” 

As Iniguez completes both his MFA and an MA in Arts Management at CGU, he envisions his future somewhere at the intersection of art and advocacy. With the arts increasingly under threat in both education and public discourse, he is committed to using his voice — and his lens — to push back. 

“We know the arts are often the first to be defunded. Now is certainly an important time when the arts are under attack. I’ll continue my advocacy and align myself with organizations doing similar work.” 

When asked what advice he would offer to other artists navigating similar paths, Iniguez’s answer is as direct as it is heartfelt:

“Fight for it. Fight against doubts, imposter syndrome, and, at times, haters. Balance that with mentors and friends who keep you honest. Ask yourself, ‘What’s the story here?’”