Text and photos by Surya Vaidy
If there’s one thing I can say about bullfighting, it’s this: it is as beautiful as it is harrowing. It’s a pas-de-deux between two individuals. One is dressed in an intricate uniform with a red muleta (the large red flag carried by bullfighters) and sword; the other is hundreds of pounds of muscle and frustration crowned with wickedly sharp horns. Grim and brutal, but so elegant and vivacious at the same time.
I did not expect to be granted a pass to the floor of the ancient Roman amphitheatre in Arles — a genuine stroke of luck that was a mixture of our guide, Marie-Anne Devaux, expertly convincing the officials and a heavy amount of begging on my part. I was standing with coaches, older bullfighters and the young novilleros (bullfighters who have not yet earned official ranks). The young fighters were the stars of the show that night.
Novillero Valentin dodges a bull while with his red muleta in hand. Both the young bullfighter and the bull are locked into a risky dance. 
Toreros prepare to anger and distract the bull at the start of a match. 
Spectators watch the bullfight from below the stands of the Arles Amphitheatre. 
Novillero Valentin miscalculates during his match and his shoved by the bull, narrowly missing getting punctured by the horns. 
Novillero Victor strikes a deadly blow against the bull he is facing. Small, colorful daggers, called banderillero hang from the bull’s hide from earlier in the fight. 
A young boy watches on as the matches continue on. Many youth were present in the Amphitheatre, despite the gore of the sport. 
Novillero Valentin approaches a downed bull, about to deal the finishing blow with his sword. 
Novillero Victor holds up his prize for a match well fought: the ear of the bull he killed. It’s an honor to recieve one ear, but it’s possible to recieve two ears, or even the tail depending on the performance of the bullfighter.
I still have a hard time processing the fact that most of the participants were a few years younger than me, with many in their late teens. Watching them engage in the violent duet with the bull was something I will never forget, especially because I could see it all at eye level. I felt as though I was in the ring myself, holding my breath as the young fighters dodged, thrust their swords or were hit by the bull. It was an adventure and a learning experience to witness.
Marie-Anne Devaux served as the interpreter for this photo story.
