How did your interest in film or audiovisual arise and why did you want to make it your profession?

I’m not sure exactly when I decided that I wanted to devote myself to audiovisual, but I’d always been better at more artistic than traditional subjects, as tends to occur with those of us who aren’t very good students. Although my father tried to get me to go into engineering, I chose Image and Sound, and I immediately realized that I liked what I was studying. 

What brought you to colour grading and to becoming a colourist?

When I finished studying Image and Sound, I started working in a postproduction company called Zoom TV. I worked in what they called “the machine room”, surrounded by Betacams, inches, U-matics, etc. My job consisted of making the broadcast copies of the different spots, and of sending the audio and video signals to the different editing and effects rooms. It was quite a monotonous job, but at the age of 20 and as my first professional experience I saw it as a learning experience and, above all, an opportunity. That opportunity arrived on a day when Viçens Dorsé, who at the time was the company’s colour grader (the term "colourist" wasn’t yet used), came into the machine room and asked whether anyone wanted to be his assistant. I put my hand up without hesitating and without really knowing what my job would consist of, but it was clear to me that, after two years on the machines, it was time to try something new. Shortly afterwards he was appointed postproduction director and I was left by myself in telecine. I had no choice but to learn.

For those who don’t know, what does the work of a colourist consist of in audiovisual?

In actual fact few people know what our job consists of. It took my mum years to understand that I was being paid a salary to adjust the colour. She used to tell me that she recorded with her camera and that it came out very well without changing the colour at all… and the problem is that mothers are always right (laughs).

Our work covers two main aspects: the technical and the creative. 

The technical part consists of matching shots from the same sequence, which do not coincide due to variations in the light or because they were shot at different times of the day. With the tools that DaVinci gives us, we have to match them so that it all has a continuity of light and colour. We therefore have to train our eyes to detect the slightest difference between shots, and this is achieved with many hours (years) of work.

The creative side is more personal and what defines and differentiates one colourist from another. Although you also learn over time, I think there’s an innate part: you need to have a taste for it. This is the most interesting part of our work: putting the colours or the look that you’re imagining on the screen. It can also be the most disappointing, because sometimes, when you’re delighted with the direction you’ve taken, the director of photography comes along and tells you that no, that wasn’t their idea. If you’re really convinced about what you’ve done, I think it’s your duty to defend it, but bearing in mind that they have the last word.

You’ve worked in Barcelona and London for 30 years. Do you see a big difference between how they work there and how we work here?

I went to work in London, in the Moving Picture Company (MPC) in 2002. At that time the creative level of spots in Barcelona was very high, maybe not quite at the same level as London, but almost. At that time in Barcelona, everyone (creatives, directors, directors of photography, editors, colourists, etc.) shared a freshness and a desire to innovate which resulted in advertising campaigns which won awards at all the festivals. There wasn’t a big difference between Barcelona and London. I don’t know what the sector’s like at present in London, but my sensation is that, following the 2008 financial crisis in Barcelona and in Spain in general, that freshness and that desire to try new things was gradually lost in order to concentrate on keeping the client no matter what. This entails creativity that isn’t very creative but which the client approves without any problem, and this applies to all the other sectors in our profession, including that of colourist. At present, I think it’s much more interesting to work in fiction than in advertising. Unlike what happened 10 or 15 years ago, and maybe because the digital platforms have given it a huge boost, I think there’s much more freshness and a much greater desire to surprise in fiction.

You are one of the founding partners of Higgins, based in Barcelona. How did this project arise and why?

In my case, this project came to me somewhat by chance. It arose some four years ago. Diana Cuyàs, Willy Nuez and Jordi San Agustín —who unfortunately died two years ago— were working together in Eclair. The company decided to dispense with the postproduction part and this led them to start their own studio. I’d worked with Jordi and with Diana in Infinia, and we knew each other well. 

At that time I was working freelance, basically in advertising, although I was also doing the colour for one or two films a year. They asked me if I wanted to join the project and I found it very interesting, above all because they came from the world of fiction and I was quite interested in being more involved in films and series. It was really quite mad: we offered our houses as collateral for the loans and we embarked on the adventure of being entrepreneurs without having much idea about management.

I still don’t have much idea, but luckily Willy, Diana and Nacho Codinach (who’s now joined as a partner) were able to learn how to manage a company. I still hope to learn one day. 

And where did the name Higgins come from?

Diana is responsible for the name —she’s always had a lot of imagination. It comes from the series Magnum, in the 80s, which was broadcast on TV3 and became very popular in Catalonia. When Diana proposed it, we were all delighted. We think that Higgins Postproduction sounds very good and is suitable for a company from our sector. Bearing in mind that Higgins was the estate manager in Magnum, personally I think it gives it quite a funny idea of service.

Colourists, like directors of photography, work with visual references. What are yours? 

I’ve never been in favour of having significant visual references, but I’m aware of the type of light and colour that’s in fashion at each moment. In the end, I go for what I like and I try to convince the director of photography to accept it, sometimes with more success than others.

How did you train to do this job?

As I mentioned before, I studied Image and Sound, which helped me to get a job in a postproduction company. There I was lucky because the company (Zoom TV) was asked to make the video clips that appeared in karaoke songs. Shortly after entering the colour (telecine) department, I had to do the colour for 500 video clips. Whatever you’re like when you start, after doing the colour for that many video clips you end up learning. And I’m still learning. Now I learn from younger colleagues, like my assistant Jan Mateu.

I think one of the best things of our profession is that you learn constantly; the technology evolves, and you evolve with it.

Colourists work for television, film and for video clips and advertising. Are there many differences between how you approach your work depending on the medium: film, TV…?

In the end, both film and advertising consist of one image after the other. A film has hundreds of images; an advertisement, far fewer. Our work involves dealing with the light and colour of these images.

That said, there are differences. For example, in advertising you have a product which must have specific colours, which have to stand out from the rest of the image. It must have a specific light to make it look beautiful. The general colour of the advert also depends on the type of product. If it’s food, you can be as creative as you want, but they’ll only approve the colour if the food looks appetizing, with sufficient light and colour to make you want to consume it. If its technology or cars, you can do something more creative and risky, but there’ll always be a client —the advertiser— who’ll have to approve the result.

On the other hand, with fiction you don’t need an advertising agency or an advertiser and therefore there’s more creative freedom. The colour correction has to be justified by the plot or by what the story wants to transmit. But I think film gives you more freedom; you can be more creative. That’s the main reason why I’m currently more interested in fiction.

What skills do you think someone needs to have to work in colour correction?

The main thing you need is to like working with colour. You spend a lot of hours in a dark room in front of the screen. For a lot of people that’s already a reason to say “no". 

I don’t think it’s essential to be a film lover, but you must have a certain interest in film. You have to be at least a little bit creative —although not an artist—. Colourists aren’t artists, although some think they are. A nephew once told me that an artist is someone who creates something from nothing. That’s not our case. We start from the recorded images in which the director of photography has already defined the lighting intention. Our job is to improve it.

I also think it’s important to have confidence in what you’re doing. You must be convinced that this colour or that light that you applied makes sense, and you must be able to defend it when speaking to the director of photography or the director. They’ll have the last word but you, as the colourist, must be able to justify your decisions. 

It’s also essential to be orderly and methodical. There are infinite possibilities with colour, and having a methodology prevents you from getting lost with such a vast choice.

What is a typical day for you like as a colourist?

It tends to start at 10 in the morning, which makes me “an early riser”. Once the film or the spot has been created, I begin the colour session. When working with fiction, they tend to be seven or eight-hour days, with a stop for lunch. With advertising, the working hours are much more flexible: you know when you start, but not when you finish. The hours are marked by the client and the deadline. In any case, nowadays —unlike 15 years ago— you don’t tend to finish in the small hours. Over the years, the working hours have become more normal and, therefore, our quality of life has improved a lot. You don’t usually work weekends either, whereas before it was quite normal to work on Sundays and bank holidays.

Which project represented the biggest challenge for you in colour correction?

It’s difficult for me to say which specific project represented an especially complicated challenge. Most of them are complex. Maybe the biggest challenge hasn’t been a specific project, but rather a specific person: Shakira, with whom I’ve been working for more than 20 years. Despite being charming and an unquestionable professional, working with an artist of her level means that everyone who collaborates with her has to be especially careful with their work. After all, one of her video clips has a huge repercussion among her fans worldwide, and you have to try to get everything to come out as well as possible.

What are your future projects if you can talk about them?

As well as continuously working on the colour of various spots, next month I’m beginning the colour for a series by Carles Porta called 33 días. We’ve already done the teaser, and it looks really good. I’ll be with this project from the end of July to the end of September. Then I’ll begin another series which will keep me busy in October and November. I also have quite an interesting documentary about the CECOT, the prison that Bukele built in El Salvador.