Pictures: Fernanda Gonçalves Printing, translation, pagination and finishing: Ponto M © João Abel Mota October 2019 Portfolio, October 2019
PORTFOLIO João Abel Mota
Table of Contents I . B io g r a p h y I I . Arti s t St at m e n t I I I . Str a n g e r s I V. “ Not a d a y w it h o u t a li n e ” V. C o n c e i ç ã o V I . C o n tortio n s VII. Meat V I I I . F r u it M û r s I X . S T UD I O S T U F F X. Ruins XI. S. Mamede XII. Land and Light X I I I . b e for e s l e e pi n g
Bi o g r a p h y João Abel da Silva Mota was born in November 11, 1999, in Bouro Santa Marta, Amares. After his preparatory education in Amares, where he al- ready showed a great talent for drawing, in 2015 he starts secondary school in the visual arts course at Escola Se- cundária Carlos Amarante in Braga, where he deepens his relationship with art. In 2017, he joined the Faculty of Fine Arts of the Uni- versity of Porto with a speciality in painting. That same school year, he was awarded with the “incentive award” as the best student of the faculty, as well as the top grade (20 points) for his work developed in the drawing course unit. That same year he joins the Urban Sketchers and the project “Identidades - Coletivo de Ação e Investigação (ID-CAI)”, a research group, both in which he is actively involved at the present time. From this late project, the work developed in Chã das Caldeiras (Fogo Island, Cape Verde) in 2018 and in Conceição das Crioulas (Pernam- buco, Brazil) in 2019 is quite relevant. Since then he has participated in several group and solo exhibitions both in Portugal and abroad. In 2017, he was invited to be part of the artist-in-residence programme of the Encontrarte Art Biennial and in 2019 as an organiza- tion member in the drawing department. “Self-Portrait at the rearview mirror, 2019
AR T I S T S T A T M EN T How do I define myself? How do I define my work? Maybe I have a feeling that nothing is fixed. I have lost count of a little lost, perhaps in an excessive eagerness to find the times I have painted the same mountain or the same something.. I feel, fortunately, a freethinker. face. The time and state with which they present them- selves changes at the same speed as my painting sees I do not conform myself, because the more I reach the them. I never find the end, but at least I can see better. more I need to continue. I may not want this to come to an end - I may live only for the process of it. I don’t know “Have I said it already? I am learning to see. Yes, I’m if it is the memories that I enviously want to keep and that beginning. It is still going badly. But I want to make use run away from me or if I just want to challenge myself. of my time.” Maybe I am passionate about shapes and colors. Rainer Maria Rilke Drawing and painting are my interface between me and the people and the world around me. That is, they act as a device for questioning, thinking, translating and observ- ing the reality. Almost everything starts in my sketchbook. It turns out to be an accompanying appendix to record the memories, the sketches, and the thoughts for what comes next. In this sense, my daily life involuntarily ends up being very present in my work - the simple fact of walking a street or wandering inside the house is almost always the motto for a new sketch, for a new painting. I feel the influence of my own experiences and of what is around me. I am excited by the alienated part of society, of people untouched by the vices of appearance. I am attracted by bizarre looks and poses, by different patterns and textures and rough hands resting on laps.
S T RANGERS By the unfortunate force of routine my sketchbooks lie almost always open in the same place. Between the unexpected bumps of the bus and the at- tentive eyes of the elderly, I usually sit down in the place reserved for the luggage in order to quickly scribble some- one. Inevitably, my eyes flee to bizarre appearances – I always look for the grotesque, skinny faces, for the hands clasped roughly on anonymous laps and the “little pat- terns”. Time is short with each line drawn, the pose changes or the model suddenly gets off the bus. The unexpected end of the moment gives way to a more intuitive aspect of drawing. The efficiency and speed of representation is combined here with memory.
Old man in profile, 2018
Old man with hat (detail), 2019 Old man with hat, 2019
Miguel, 2019
Tiago, 2019
Thoughtful woman and man in profile, 2018
Ladies waiting for the bus, 2017
Lady with handbag, 2018 Mother and child, 2018
Melia waiting for her daughter, Charcoal, 42 x 59.4 cm, 2019
“ N o t a d a y w it h o u t a l i n e ” Through the first theoretical approach about art by Pliny I would like to introduce a broader perspective about sketchbooking. The sketchbook eventually becomes an appendix of my body, following me wherever I go. In my hands, a sketchbook usually has two weeks of life. The first drawing is hard to start, but by the second day the sketchbook begins to turn into an internal battlefield: university-related drawings mingle with daydreams and nonsense, while others that please me cohabit with small errors and mistakes. The sketchbook spine (if it is not broken yet) should be wide by then. This intimate object acts differently when I am traveling. It is good to exchange regular habits for relaxing walks and the object I bring with me is the ideal method to bet- ter see what I have just met. Possibly the sketchbook, as le Corbusier said, is a place of “patient research”.
Residence, 42 x 180 cm (detail), 2018
Tree, 2019 Tor, 2019
Light of Saint Bavo Cathedral, Haarlem, 2019
View of Recife, Brasil, 2019 Rice fields, Alcaçer do Sal, 2019
Westerkerk, Amsterdam, 2019
Mother walking around the kitchen, 2018 Dinner with music, 2017
Man drinking beer, 2019
Florbela, 2019
C ON C E I Ç Ã O II Meeting - Arts, Fight, Knowledge and Flavors of the More and more children came, but at first they just Quilombola Community of Conceição das Crioulas watched. They sat next to me, then came a little closer until they asked if I had pens. I confess that at first I was “(...) I remember the packs of “no man’s dogs” wandering a little afraid ... I was never much of sharing sketchbooks, among the newly paved road. A few pigs with their litter but I regretted nothing. These are the best things I bring behind, some but chickens that weren’t afraid of dogs with me. and people who stopped talking to watch the unfamiliar car coming so assertively into the streets. Everything that went into their heads, the sketches made of memories of the “sound car”, or the horse who belong (...) We introduced ourselves and the community intro- to a brother who was a cowboy. There also were some oth- duced itself. (...) We get to know it better, its people, its er sketches, some shy ones, of a sun, of several houses... culture, but also, and necessarily, its problems and its suddenly, a mud-filled hand with an ancient echo that struggles. I would later remember while contemplating “Pedra da Mão” (a rock painting), a few days later.” “Fight” was perhaps the word I heard most in the morn- ing. I could understand the endurance of the people of From “Memórias de Conceição”. this community while facing all the obstacles that came across them. I heard they were not poor, but impover- ished. Men and women alienated by color, lowered by sex- ist looks and killed by their resistance. (...) From time to time I would go back to my obsession, drawing the environment, the shift changes, the faces of children smeared with mud, and all the hurry.
Drawing of Gabriel Junior, 2019
People in an acacia, Brasil, 2019
Macabeira de boi, Watercolor, 2019
Cistern, Watercolor, Brasil, 2019
Lunar eclipse, Watercolor, Brasil, 2019
C ON T OR T I ONS “Out of the mouth of each one there protruded The feet of a transgressor, and the legs Up to the calf, the rest within remained. In all of them the soles were both on fire; Wherefore the joints so violently quivered, They would have snapped asunder withes and bands.” (…) “Master, who is that one who writhes himself, More than his other comrades quivering,” I said, “and whom a redder flame is sucking ?” Canto XIX, Inferno, The Divine Comedy, Dante Alighieri
Contortion Sequence, 42 x 59.4 cm, 2019
M EA T I had no idea how deeply this theme was embedded in my language. Since I was a child, and because I live in a village, the event of the “slaughter” (of pigs, lambs, chickens...) was subtly present in my memory. Sometimes a motionless swaying body, sometimes a skin- less head. Although it causes us some fear and repulsion, these motives contain an inherent beauty. Perhaps it is just an excuse to paint their beautiful and bizarre appearances. Maybe because of the unique col- ours and the brightness that a skinless body can have.
Skinned lamb in front view, Charcoal powder, 150 x 200 cm, 2019 Skinned lamb, Watercolor, 2018
Skinned boar head, Oil on canvas, 18 x 13 cm, 2018
FRUIT Mûrs Just like meat or just like everything else, fruit is also metamorhpic, although in this last case the process de- velops quite faster. The ephemerality of things thrills someone who tries to paint them for a while. The green paint will have to be replaced with a browner one. The brush strokes of the leaves become contorted and the shape changes com- pletely. The saturated red of a tomato, the orange shades of a per- simmon or the greenish colour of a quince are irresistible. It is quite curious how these fruits can challenge us wih so many visual stimuli. There is not much to say about a quince, but painting one is really funny.
Five quinces and two tomatoes, 42 x 59.4 cm, 2019
Persimmons, Oil on canvas, 30 x 24 cm, 2017
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