Essays in White and Shadow

There's always been something magnetic about Zaha Hadid's work for me. Even before I fully grasped the relevance of her work, she saw in her projects an encounter between cinema and architecture, a crossover between painting and sculpture, a dialogue between poetics and aesthetics, a paradox between the possible and the impossible. Later, when I had the opportunity to work in her London studio, I was exposed to a highly manual method of exploring dynamic and plastic forms through compositions with cut paper and cardboard, mostly white, in which shadow played a fundamental role in modelling and spatial perception. Hundreds of examples scattered throughout the studio, framed on the walls or filed away in corners, have always fascinated me. Perhaps more so than their specific consequences or the studio's architectural output in general. There was something dizzying in the interplay between solid and empty, between static and dynamic, between abstract and figurative. At that same time, in London, I also discovered the work of Lygia Pape and Rachel Whiteread, and the desire to one day continue this magnetism of rehearsing compositions with volumes painted in white and shadow remained even more subconscious.

During the first decade at OODA, many ideas were tested and considered for multiple contexts and frameworks. Many had consequences, but many more fell aside, crystallized in a sea of ​​conceptualized, suggested, or theorized possibilities. Therefore, I recently became interested in recycling part of this intangible heritage as inspiration to be reinterpreted through a logic of abstraction and synthesis. As creative tools, abstraction allows us to distance our thinking from the specificity of the project and amplify the dialectic between shadow and form, while synthesis allows us to emphasize the ethereal genesis of the idea or the timelessness of its potential. Thus, these essays in white and shadow were born. Without pretentiousness or artifice, without plans or higher ambitions, they were gradually produced during the pandemic, also as a way to approach and question the creative connection between imagination, digital modeling, and three-dimensional formalization using processes typically more confined to industry, such as 3dprinting, painting, and finishing. Art, like architecture, could be summed up as a process of thought and critical reflection that then uses various tools to materialize it. These essays, besides aiming to expose the beauty of shadow as it traverses and occupies various formal compositions, also seek to address how digital media and new technologies can complement the analog and tactile practice of visual expression.

Exhibition in Nuno Centeno's Gallery
March / April 2023

Proa do Porto

In 1975, super-tanker Jacob Maersk crashed into a rock off the city of Porto. 7 lives were lost in this tragedy and 88,000 tonnes of crude were spilled into our sea. One of the biggest oil spills in living memory. However, on a day we lost so much, we also gained a lot. We gained a united people, that came together in a tremendous effort to minimize the effects of the catastrophe, showing the world what the people of Porto were made of and we gained a symbol that, for 20 years, simultaneously honored the memory of those who departed and the spirit of those who endured: the bow of Jacob Maersk. In 1995, for public health and environmental reasons, the bow was removed and, with it, the tribute. From the wreckage a memorial was born and from the memorial a landscape. A collective memory of a Porto that witnessed the tragedy and of the following Porto, which saw only the symbol. In 1995, he subtracted to the landscape, the memory, the homage, the history.


In 2023 we´ve proposed to give the bow back to Porto.

Credits

In memorium

Hans Bollerup

Sorensen

Carl Richard

Jensen Lars Torp

Geoffrey G. Watkins

Kurt Mogens

Hagstrom

Ejnar Poul Kristiansen

Poul Vestergaard

Proa do Porto

Diogo Brito (sculpture)

Miguel Durão (text)

Collaboration between the Minister of Fisheries, the Navy, the Army, the shipowner (The Shell Oil Company), and part of the local population prevented the pollution from reaching even more serious levels. Approximately 15,000 tons of crude oil reached the coast. The OECD estimated that the catastrophe cost $2.8 million at the time, which would be around €20 million today.

Exhibition in Nuno Centeno's Gallery
March / April 2023