A Heatwave in Paris

Paris called her back, but home never stopped calling. Returning to the French capital during one of its hottest summers, photographer Raquel San Nicolás found herself photographing not the city’s grand landmarks, but the intimacy of everyday life in the streets just outside her door. Together with Lena Ballayre, she created a series that reflects on belonging, memory, and why the Canary Islands remain the place her heart returns to.

Raquel, you grew up in the Canary Islands and recently returned to Paris. What made you want to reconnect with the city, and what was it like coming back after some time away?

I left the Canary Islands in 2010 to study abroad, and ever since then my relationship with home has been defined by returning, rather than truly living there. At some point, I realised that everything I thought I could only experience by living elsewhere could actually be lived differently, while being rooted in the place where I was born, a place that inspires me enormously. From there, I can always return from time to time to the cities that have also shaped me: Madrid, Barcelona and Paris.

Paris and I shared seven years together, and I missed its character. I’ve always felt that time moves faster there. There are always people to meet, places to go, things to discover, it all unfolds at a much more intense pace, and sometimes I miss being immersed in that energy.

So I came back looking for that rhythm again, to reconnect with my friends in Paris and with my work. After all, I’m a fashion photographer and director, and when it comes to fashion, Paris c’est Paris.

Most of the photographs were made close to home, between your apartment and the nearby park. What attracts you to photographing ordinary moments rather than searching for something more spectacular?

I’m fascinated by the beauty that exists within everyday life. I try to capture something meaningful with very little, and to transform something simple into an image that carries emotion.

How did you and Lena first connect, and what made you want to create this series together?

We’d talked about making photographs together for quite some time, and this series came together very naturally. I invited her to my neighbourhood, asked her to bring clothes that made her feel comfortable, and the only direction I gave was to stay within a colour palette that you can clearly see throughout the photographs.

The whole shoot unfolded at a slow, unhurried pace. We’d take a few pictures, move a piece of furniture around at my place to find the perfect light spot in my bedroom, and then walk to the park while talking about heartbreak and cinema. It all felt very calm.

“Everything I was searching for elsewhere could also be found at home.”

Heat often changes our routines and even our emotions. Did the historic heatwave affect the way you photographed, or perhaps even the way you experienced Paris itself?

I’d experienced canicule before, both in Paris and in Madrid, but I couldn’t remember one quite like this.

Normally, I head out early in the morning for long walks, photographing whatever catches my attention with whatever camera I happen to have with me: my Olympus MJU II, my phone, or a wonderfully low-resolution digital camera from 2007 that I absolutely love. I enjoy wandering without a plan, simply seeing what scenes I come across.

This heatwave created extraordinary images of everyday life. People began using public space in completely different ways to escape the heat: sleeping in parks at night, jumping into the Canal Saint-Martin, cooling off in public fountains and even in the middle of the street.

For me, though, the heat became almost unbearable. Instead of going into the city centre and being part of all that activity, I found myself staying close to my neighbourhood. I discovered quiet parks with hardly any tourists, cool shaded corners, and new photographic possibilities inside the apartment I’ve been returning to regularly for the past ten years.

In the end, these photographs reflect exactly how those days felt to me: close to home, centred around this beautiful park I had discovered just before the heatwave began.

Those days were also deeply introspective. They were filled with questions, reflection, and moments of confusion and frustration about the climate crisis. More than anything, they made me think about going back home.

And finally, where does your heart feel most at home these days—Paris, the Canary Islands, or somewhere still waiting to be discovered?

That’s a difficult question. Whenever we’re somewhere, we tend to think about what we’ve left behind. But when I think about the word home today, the answer is the Canary Islands.