Catarina Costa Cabral
of Century Records
This work is not closed and will continue to grow, and perhaps be the
starting-point of linked projects.
All these photographs have to do with the space and/or the lack of it,
and with my sorrow about the systematic destruction of Lisbon and many
of its buildings.
Whenever I see an abandoned or closed building, I start to occupy it in
my dreams, imagining the light that it will have inside and as I would
be happy there. [...]
Spring is almost gone. The long and hot rays from beginning of summer
already started to be felt. The next subject is dedicated to photos
that you'd taken last spring, that tell us how it was this season.
This month the participation beat a new record: 104 photographs,
of which we publish 78.
Congratulations to Caroline Wood, from France.
Thank you for all the participations..
Photos with strong graphical lines,
dynamic lines, lines of depth, orienting lines, force lines, perplexing
lines, straight lines, curves, crossed, cut, imaginary...
We wait for your lines.
Results will show on the next newsletter and be published on the
site. See how to participate >>>.
Mértola: III Islamic Festival 2005
Between the river Guadiana and the Oeiras stream, Mértola
is three villages of whitewash and sun. One inside the fortress walls
and two outside of it. The oldest, built along one of the castle's walls,
is the one who speaks more about the origins of the land, and also the
less inhabited. The two recent ones, are the new part of the village.
One endowed with tourist infrastructures, restaurants and new habitations.
The last one, the barn's bank on the left side of Guadiana.
Mértola is a sleeping white village. Its biggest problems are those
of the entire Alentejo: illiteracy, aged population, desertification,
and, this year, the dryness. The land torns for water, begging for being
handed and its temperature felt. [...]
Text & Translation: Sofia Quintas
> Douro's Faces
This exhibition can be considered as a journey to the
past. A past where the train still moved slowly, where people smiled and
opened their doors to unknown travellers and offered them a hot soup to
heat their soul, where rituals of pressing grapes were still celebrated
with human heat stifling cold away.
An image of Portugal that many are unaware of, but still prevails in the
vine's terraces. An image that contrast with Douro's bridges and dams,
roads and highways that wind through North's land, signs of stubborn modernity
that persists in remembering us that the past already passed. [...]
Text: Antónia Barroso