Através do ectoplasma
UrbEx. Exploração urbana.
O que impulsiona um fotógrafo a aventurar-se por locais inóspitos e abandonados, para além da adrenalina de visitar um espaço perigoso e provavelmente proibido, ou, pelo menos, sujo e bafiento?
Para além da óbvia ânsia de conseguir retratar a beleza em lugares deteriorados?
Será a vontade de se conseguir estabelecer uma relação com que terá sido o espaço nos seus tempos áureos, e tentar num fotograma, ainda contar a história do seu fim de vida? Será o impulso documental de registar as eventuais utilizações alternativas dadas ao espaço, ilícitas… ou simplesmente imundas?
Será o desejo de comprovar a força implacável da Natureza, que reclama para si os sítios, noutros tempos transformados pela mão do Homem? Ou, ainda, o exercício de presenciar o espaço e, com o registo do seu estado actual, promover a imaginação de uma realidade paralela do mesmo? Ou, ainda, a intenção de advogar pela recuperação da ruína?
Pessoalmente, descobrir a beleza na decadência, constatar a pujança dos elementos e da reconquista tranquila do espaço pela Natureza, pesquisar e conectar-me com o passado do edifício, fantasiando sobre cenários historicamente adequados, quase sentindo o ectoplasma dos seus fantasmas, são razões mais que suficientes. Não fora também, efectivamente, o prazer de visitar espaços onde se pode arquitectar mentalmente uma versão nova dos mesmos.
Todas estas são imagens mentais que revisito e exercito ao olhar para cada uma das singelas fotografias conseguidas nesta localização. E, em certas alturas, desgostosamente, sinto o peso (e a responsabilidade) de testemunhar o desprendimento (ou mesmo desprezo) humano por estruturas que outrora foram lares, sítios de lazer e de trabalho de outros. In casu, o declínio precipitado por uma revolução e a falta de capacidade financeira para reerguer o complexo… que dura há mais de 43 anos.
Though the ectoplasm
UrbEx. Urban exploration.
What drives a photographer to venture into inhospitable and abandoned places, besides the adrenaline of visiting a dangerous and probably forbidden space or at least, a dirty and musty one?
Aside from the obvious eagerness to portray beauty in decayed places?
Is it the will to be able to establish a relationship with what has been the space in its golden age and try - in a frame - still tell the story of its end of life? Is it the documentary impulse to record possible alternative uses of space, illicit ... or simply filthy?
Is it the desire to admire the implacable force of Nature, which claims for itself the sites once transformed by the hand of Man? Or still the exercise of witnessing the space and - with the record of its current state - promote the imagination of a parallel reality of it? Or yet the intention to advocate for the recovery of the ruin?
Personally, discovering beauty in decadence, seeing the strength of the elements and Nature’s tranquil reclaim of space, researching and connecting with the past of the building, fantasizing about historically appropriate scenarios -almost feeling the ectoplasm of its ghosts - are more than enough reasons. Or even the pleasure of visiting spaces where one can mentally architect a new version of them.
All these are mental images that I revisit and exercise when looking at each of the simple photographs obtained in this location. And at some point painfully feeling the weight (and responsibility) of witnessing the human detachment (or even contempt) for structures that once were homes, leisure and work places for others. Case in point, a decline precipitated by a revolution and the lack of financial capacity to rebuild the complex ... that lasts already for 43 years.
What drives a photographer to venture into inhospitable and abandoned places, besides the adrenaline of visiting a dangerous and probably forbidden space or at least, a dirty and musty one?
Aside from the obvious eagerness to portray beauty in decayed places?
Is it the will to be able to establish a relationship with what has been the space in its golden age and try - in a frame - still tell the story of its end of life? Is it the documentary impulse to record possible alternative uses of space, illicit ... or simply filthy?
Is it the desire to admire the implacable force of Nature, which claims for itself the sites once transformed by the hand of Man? Or still the exercise of witnessing the space and - with the record of its current state - promote the imagination of a parallel reality of it? Or yet the intention to advocate for the recovery of the ruin?
Personally, discovering beauty in decadence, seeing the strength of the elements and Nature’s tranquil reclaim of space, researching and connecting with the past of the building, fantasizing about historically appropriate scenarios -almost feeling the ectoplasm of its ghosts - are more than enough reasons. Or even the pleasure of visiting spaces where one can mentally architect a new version of them.
All these are mental images that I revisit and exercise when looking at each of the simple photographs obtained in this location. And at some point painfully feeling the weight (and responsibility) of witnessing the human detachment (or even contempt) for structures that once were homes, leisure and work places for others. Case in point, a decline precipitated by a revolution and the lack of financial capacity to rebuild the complex ... that lasts already for 43 years.
