INTERVIEW WITH LAKE VEREA

Francisca Rivero-Lake Cortina (*1973) and Carla Verea Hernández (*1978) have been collaborating as the Mexico City-based artist duo Lake Verea since 2005. In conversation with Hatje Cantz, they discuss their deeply personal book, Lake Verea: Modern Barragán, which chronicles their multifaceted encounters with the work of architect Luis Barragán spanning over two decades.

During their time in Barragán's private home, Lake Verea allowed themselves to be fully enchanted by the space. Going far beyond classical architectural documentary they physically engaged with his environment—comparing their bodies to his, sitting in his chairs, opening his closets, kissing in the garden, portraying the house in daylight, under the light of the full moon, by streetlight, in thunderstorms, using flash and by rubbing the walls and floors with aluminum sheets to reveal its history.

The duo is presenting their exhibition Full Moon Party from May 30 to August 21, 2026 at Zander Galerie, Cologne and planning on a grand European Tour for the next two years.

HC: You’ve been working together for over twenty years now. What was the starting point for you to collaborate? Did you know back then it would last this long?

Lake Verea: We belonged to the same circles and had always seen each other. We finally connected on January 26, 2005. It was a beautiful coup de foudre. We clicked immediately and have basically been collaborating since day one.

We loved what the other was doing and complemented each other in a very organic way. Eventually, we said: “Why don't we kill our egos and build Lake Verea?” We used the I Ching (Chinese oracle handbook, Ed.) to find the right name combination. It revealed that Lake Verea is a Tui Tui—which means abundant delight.

HC: Why architecture?

Lake Verea: Around 2006, our friend and curator Daniel Garza Usabiaga was researching Luis Barragán's remaining architecture in the city. We were talking, and he said, "I have a sense that you could do what Lola Álvarez Bravo did with architecture. Would you be interested in a commission with me?"

Lola Álvarez Bravo took these heroic photos of modern Mexico in the 1930s and 40s. The city was pretty empty back then with almost no trees, so her images were a way to clearly understand how this new architecture was sitting in the city. But when he commissioned us, the city had grown. There were streets, lots of trees, and the houses were often in very bad condition. Seventy years had passed, so we were basically photographing the modern ruins of Barragán.

HC: How did this first commission shape the way you work together?

Lake Verea: It planted a seed in us that has never left. We learned how to look at architecture together and how to develop a new visual language that belonged to us, rather than what we were seeing in traditional books.

When we started photographing, we decided to rebel against the formula. We avoided tilt-and-shift lenses and looked at things that traditional photographers—and probably even the architects themselves—weren't looking at. Through this process, we realized that architecture is alive. It's a living being that whispers to you if you are available to listen. When you are taking photos, different cameras, night shoots, and varied exposures.

For the book, we used around ten different cameras, analog and digital. We went exploring and experimented constantly. Sometimes you're working and working, and after two years of putting together a book you realize the incredible photographic journey you've been on from being very young up to now.

HC: One might assume a book of architectural photos would be purely documentary. But your work feels more like an extension of what the architecture was meant to be. Barragán was so thoughtful about light, color, and how a space interacts with the body and emotions. You aren't just documenting it; you're looking around it, trying to...

Lake Verea: Trying to hear him, exactly. To be intuitive about his work. Barragán was actually very concerned with the image. He worked closely with Armando Salas Portugal, an incredible photographer. Barragán was so driven by the image that he would sometimes even change walls or windows while building, just based on the photographs. That’s why we fell in love with him—he was an architect creating an image for himself.

Eventually, we realized that what we loved most was his own house, because it’s the most intimate space for an architect. His architecture doesn't end with the walls. It’s the colors, the layout, the furniture, the lamps—everything. And it was all handmade and tailored to his size. He was a very tall man, and when you sit in his chairs or look around, you realize he planned for absolutely everything, even exactly where he would put his horseback riding boots. He was a real dandy.

HC: How did you experience your own bodies in that space? How did this dialogue with the building, and essentially with him, influence your own artistic dialogue as a duo?

Lake Verea: By understanding him more, we also understood ourselves in a different way. That’s why his house became such an important space for us to play. We got the invitation to his house in 2008 and immediately asked ourselves: "What can we do in a house that has been photographed ad infinitum?"

We decided to read his Pritzker acceptance speech, and there we found our clues. We wanted to portray the intangible things he spoke about: the silence, the solitude, the penumbra, and the happiness. Being the romantics that we are, we asked for permits to stay at the house at night during full moons. We felt that was when his most intimate moments of silence and solitude would have happened. That was the true gift.

During a full moon, the house undergoes a metamorphosis. The colors disappear, spaces become voids, and you're dealing with dark matter and pure geometry. He didn't talk much about color in his speech anyway; he talked about feelings, emotions, fountains, and gardens.

To capture this, we did long exposures. It deals with deep time, so we had to use a tripod and remain completely still—every vibration changes the image. You learn how timelessness happens at night but also how uncertain the moon is. Sometimes it hides behind clouds for hours, or a thunderstorm casts blue light into the rooms.

We would enter at 8 PM and leave at 6 AM. Ana Maria, the caretaker who started working with Barragán when she was 16, would let us in. We would have a nice little dinner with her and her niece, and then we were locked in for the night. We couldn't leave in between.

HC: It was also his home. Did you feel a sense of home there? How was his artistic vision connected to his life?

Lake Verea: Yes. He started building in 1948. He spent his entire life working on that house. He was constantly fixing and building things; it was an endless work in progress.

Everything was exactly the way he liked it. For example, there’s only one seat at the head of the dining room table because he was the man of the house. In a traditional, family-oriented country like Mexico, a home designed just for one person feels incredibly original. It made us realize that you can create your own universe. If you do it honestly and with all your heart, you can create a house that doesn't look like anyone else's, and that is wonderful.

We also realized that all the people we’ve been researching were intrinsically connected long before we arrived on Earth. They were friends back in the 1950s. We call them "modern spirits" because they keep opening doors for us. For instance, when we were working on our Josef and Anni Albers project, we looked at their guest book and found Barragán's signature right there. For us, these are signs. Everybody is linked. We felt like we were this missing link that had to come along in another era to talk about their intimacy—to see them not as untouchable stars, but as humans.

HC: It feels like your work extends his legacy and brings these historical connections between artists full circle.

Lake Verea: Exactly. We are all about connections. Every day we find a new historical link, and we call them "memories of the future." They are these memories that happened at one point in the past, and you only figure them out in the future. They were simply just waiting for you to discover them. Check out the chart on our website!

HC: Many artists working with history get stuck in it. Your concept of "memories of the future" is refreshing—it gives you a forward direction rather than just circling backwards.

Lake Verea: We try not to go back; we move forward like horses! The past has a lot to say, but we weren't there. We are not here to judge a time we didn't live in. When people constantly judge the past, we think, "Why are you judging something you will never truly understand?" You can never feel the air, the texture, the smell, or truly know how people were connecting back then. We focus on the now. That is how we can create a beautiful future.

HC: You’ve been in a 20-year dialogue with someone who has passed away. If you had the chance to meet him in person, are there any remaining open questions you’d want to ask him?

Lake Verea: Oh my god, so many! We have a whole list of questions. He was a man full of allure, and there is so much gossip from people who claim they knew him, rode in his car, or went riding with him. We'd love to know how real those stories actually are. He had this incredible, magnetic appeal that ultimately comes down to his honesty—being modern and just being unapologetically himself.

But honestly, more than asking specific questions, we would have loved to just spend a full week side-by-side with him. We’d want to observe his daily whereabouts: what time did he get up? What did he have for breakfast all by himself in that pink room? Did he go directly to the studio? We'd want to see how he dressed, right down to his beautiful, custom-made shoes, and watch him take the train to Guadalajara.

HC: It seems he will remain a mystery.

Lake Verea: He will remain a mystery forever. We think that's why you can fall in love with him.

HC: In your book and your work, there is always this play of light and shadow. It leaves something mysterious and magical that you can't exactly grasp.

Lake Verea: Exactly. It is about the questions. For example, the recurring theme of gold. We literally woke up one day with a message: "Dorado Adorado Barragán." We realized we needed to bring back the gold and yellow that was so important in his house and his spirituality. Even after 20 years, we sometimes think we are finally done with him, but every time we say that he comes back with a new mission. He hasn't left us alone!

That’s why we think of him as our Mont Sainte-Victoire, like Cézanne's mountain. There will always be something in the future that triggers our attention again. What interested us 15 years ago isn't what interests us now, and who knows what will interest us in ten years. We are still growing.

HC: You had an almost unrestricted interaction with Barragán's private spaces. Could you recreate this in the future?

Lake Verea: Things have changed, he is a star now! You cannot go to Mexico City without visiting Casa Barragán. What we did back then, like staying alone inside the house at night, would not be impossible now. Everything has alarms, cameras, and "don't touch" signs. That era doesn't exist anymore.

And honestly, we don't exist the same way either. When we look in the mirror, we aren't those same young women. we wish we still had that skin and hair! But today, we have even more passion and drive. It’s the beautiful gift of the passage of time.