Miguel Frías is a Spanish photographer based in Almería. Working professionally since 2013, his practice moves between documentary observation and constructed portraiture. His personal work explores the body, identity, memory, vulnerability and human connection, often using light, movement, water, reflections and physical barriers to alter the way a subject is perceived. Alongside his commissioned work in wedding and portrait photography, he develops personal projects rooted in intimate relationships, family and the passage of time. His approach combines carefully constructed images with unexpected moments, searching for photographs that remain open to interpretation rather than offering a single explanation.
A figure holds a cluster of dolls beside an old portrait, while another body dissolves into the foreground. Real,…
What we reached for
A body rests against a glowing television while the screen remains fully awake. The image plays with the reversal…
A face is seen through a transparent surface that reflects, distorts and reveals at the same time. Like the…
A body pushes against a thin layer of fabric, becoming visible through pressure rather than exposure. The material both…
The hand interrupts the face without concealing it. Its particular form becomes part of the portrait without asking to…
An old scale hovers behind the head while the face dissolves into movement and shadow. The image turns measurement into…
A meticulously dressed figure stands still while an ordinary cyclist passes behind her. The collision between staged…
The television is held like a body, while its cold light spills across the skin. The gesture turns a familiar object…
Her raised hand interrupts the portrait, creating a small barrier between her face and the viewer. Age is not treated…
The glass contains the body without fully hiding it. Water distorts the face and turns the portrait into a study of…
A face disappears behind a screen that shows nothing. The television becomes less a window than a mask, turning the act…
Seen through textured glass, my grandmother holds a photograph of herself as a young woman. The distortion is not…
Behind a scratched pane, the body becomes both exposed and unreachable — a portrait of vulnerability held at a distance