Joel Meyerowitz, the last king of the New York streets: "I know I'm nearing my end. I already feel the presence of death."

Joel Meyerowitz (New York, 1938) appears in the luxurious lobby of Madrid's Rosewood Villa Magna, wearing his felt trilby hat, a black cardigan, and his digital Leica slung over his shoulder. Almost in a whisper, he greets everyone present. Like a stranger in a place that doesn't belong. Like a man from another time surrounded by contemporary opulence. Like the great street photographer locked within four walls. And yet, none of it seems to matter to him.

He walks down the corridor and sits in a room with translucent walls. He places his hat and Leica on the table and asks, with impeccable politeness, that the music be turned down so the conversation can flow smoothly and not interfere with his hearing aid. "Now we can begin." So be it. This 87-year-old man is living history in world photography. He is the author of many of the iconic images of the streets of New York in the 1960s and 1970s, from his native Bronx to Lower Manhattan . He also captures the disaster caused by the attack on the Twin Towers in 2001, as he was one of the few professionals who was able to bypass the security cordon to capture the tragedy. And a series of 200 snapshots that emerged during an extensive road trip through 10 European countries in the 1960s, when the continent was just beginning to recover from the aftermath of World War II.

It is precisely this exhibition, Europe 1966-1967 , that can now be seen at the Centro Cultural de la Villa, in the center of Madrid, as part of PHotoEspaña 2025, which has also awarded the New Yorker its prize for this edition for his extensive career. In this exhibition, as in the photographer's life, Málaga plays a key role. It was there that the photographer settled for several months during his European tour, embedded among Andalusian families, to discover the lives of local residents during the developmental period that had taken place under Franco.

“That's where I discovered myself as an artist. I was only 28, but I began to understand my own temperament. I was alone every day, shot 750 rolls of film, half in color and half in black and white, and I didn't see them for a whole year. So, in a way, I worked on a kind of trust, and that's how I understood who I was,” he explains in a calm, monotone. He continues: “ In the 1960s, life had a basic, normal simplicity; today, everything is exaggerated by the internet, money, and tourism . There were no ships that arrived in Málaga and unloaded 3,000 people at once into the city; you could walk the streets with a certain peace of mind. Although Franco's regime restricted conversations in the street, you didn't have to adapt to tourists.”

In those snapshots of tablaos and cafés, of community life, color was already beginning to filter through, one of the American photographer's great contributions to the history of photography. He was one of the pioneers in the use of this technique when black and white was the prevailing color. Meyerowitz's colors are a reminder of streets that today bear no resemblance to each other in both form and substance. "There is still life on the street, but attitudes have changed, as have clothes and values. That life is interrupted by human interaction with virtual reality."

Sidewalks are no longer a meeting place, a place of encounter, they're a place of transit. Almost like a catwalk surrounded by technological progress. "People are always looking at their phones to see the news, photos... Life on the street is no longer a playful human exchange, everything is a distraction. People just look up to see if they're going to get hit by a car and then go back to their phones ." He stops and returns: "With the internet, everyone wants to show their face, their body, their writings, their photographs, or whatever in the hope of gaining more followers and making money. They want to be famous for being famous; they're interested in being known. When I started taking photos, I didn't want to be recognized; I couldn't avoid taking them. I liked capturing moments of beauty that were there and then faded away. I feel like that kind of unspoken conversation with the street has been broken."

Meyerowitz had already been warned of this rupture in 1976 when he was commissioned to shoot an advertising campaign in a scientific magazine. The photographer flew to Colorado to learn about the computer division that Hewlett-Packard was beginning to develop in the United States. And, standing in front of a large mainframe computer, a 38-year-old engineer warned him of what was coming. " He told me that one day, I don't know when, we would all be connected and be able to communicate instantly . In 1976, Apple didn't even exist," the New Yorker recalls.

Is this how a change that has even been sociological in the streets took place?

There are several levels, but if people don't even look at each other, social unity is lost. Instead of being open to conversation, we prefer the first answer Google gives us. This is isolating us from human connection. New York used to admit nothing outside the windows, and now it's like walking through an endless tunnel of advertising. Public exchange has broken down; we've disconnected by staring at our phones or at oversized images in shop windows of a girl in a bikini or a guy in his underwear.

Has this also led to greater political or administrative control? It's becoming increasingly difficult to see large demonstrations like those in Vietnam or the racial rights protests you photographed.

Things will be more controlled the less human capacity we have to determine what we want. That's why the United States is failing with Trump in charge. People no longer study the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, ethics, or civic behavior. We were taught in school to have a certain responsibility for being Americans. And when that fails, that's when dictators can come to power. Trump has filled that vacuum and is committing a crime against democracy. And I feel the United States is going to fall or is already falling. I don't know if it will recover, but ignorance rules our society.

According to the photographer, the problems facing us today aren't very different from those of five decades ago. Wars have changed their setting but have resurfaced in our society. Racial segregation has resurfaced as one of the social debates in the United States—and around the world—especially after Donald Trump's victory. "We just have different protagonists and different needs," says Meyerowitz, who now lives in London, where he has participated in street protests against Brexit. He did so in New York after the reelection of the current US president. The street, always the street. "My wife and I didn't go out to demonstrate just to take pictures; we wanted to be part of it. It's important to take risks to be part of a historic moment. It's a double game: you're going to support something you believe in, and maybe you'll find some photographs ."

Six decades later, and at 87 years old, photography remains the anchor of his life. The Leica now resting on his table is still with him every day when he leaves the house. Without exception. And he still has a project ahead for the near future. "It will be something totally different, distorted, but I can't tell you anything more because they won't let me," he announces without giving much away. Furthermore, his publisher intends to allow him to develop a book of his unpublished photographs from the 1960s. " It's really interesting to revisit your work, but above all, it's interesting to see who you were when you started and who you are today ."

Who is Joel Meyerowitz? How has he changed?

I like to reflect on whether I'm still the same person, whether I'm just older, broader, and deeper. And I think I do this to see if I've been true to myself. All artists face that, wondering if we've been true to ourselves or if we've sold out for commercial gain. I had a good friend who was a famous commercial photographer in New York, earning a million dollars a year. I never earned anywhere near that amount. One day, when he turned 50, he called me angrily because he had an exhibition at MoMA, and I simply told him he'd sold out, that he'd decided to earn a million dollars a year doing commercial work.

It's not easy to choose between prestige and that million.

I could really use a million dollars right now, but things haven't worked out that way. Looking back, I think I've been true to myself and gotten as far as I wanted. And that's probably the whole truth.

Have you ever thought about the end of your career?

I don't plan on retiring, but I know the end is near. You're still young compared to me, and when you're young, death is so far away it means nothing. But as I get older, I know I'm going toward the end alongside death. I feel its presence and see that it's welcoming me. It's inevitable, and it's coming. My wife and I talk a lot about death, not from a morbid place, but from a place of acceptance. Everything I see in the world now, I look at with awe because I know I may never see it again. I feel like I'm absorbing all the joy in the world.

Before leaving, Meyerowitz says goodbye with a "I hope we meet again," before disappearing once again into that ecosystem that isn't his own. Like a photo that was never taken.