Rotten tomatoes and quinces, Oil on canvas, 30 x 30 cm, 2019
Onions, Oil on canvas, 40 x 30 cm, 2019
S T UD I O S T UFF Mundane stuff, accumulated on the floor, seen from above and from a careful look to their particularities, their dif- ferences and their similarities. A randomly dropped bag on the floor can be beautiful. A boar skull can be beautiful too. The same for a wooden floor. Some objects are present due to their color, others by their bizarre appearance and others just to fill some void. They rest like random things forgotten in a corner.
Vase with bones, Oil on cavas, 60 x 50 cm, 2019 Self-portrait with a bag, Oil on canvas, 70 x 50 cm, 2019
RU I NS Time, as an agent of change, leaves us traces of the past and splinters of memories. Stacks of stucco and heaps of stone escape from the “picturesque” image. In this space the ceramic tiles rest dusty, and the Virgin’s marble fingers spread between the cans and the maple leaves. The light must have been the only thing that remained intact. Dialogues are created between forms, between spaces, all constantly changing - a convent that is increasingly a ruin, increasingly amputated statues and an ever-distant time.
Convent, Etching 60 x 60 cm, 2019
Ruins, Charcoal, 300 x 150 cm, 2019
S. Mamede The shapes of that mountain are already part of my own identity. I drew that mountain for the first time when I was five years old, quite possibly from memory. That drawing resembled the mountain that lived beside me and that same mountain is my most immediate concept of what every mountain should be. The wavy and robust shape that culminates with a lookout post at the top. I have lost count of the times I drew it and painted it. I find it always different. The fluctuation of the light is per- haps what most challenges me to revisit its impressions. The soft shadows that stretch on a less rugged hill on the right side of the mountain are so singular. I never saw anything like that. It is bizarre this relationship that we are able to create with a mountain. It eventually takes on some mysticity, perhaps it is the past that echoes from it, or the memories of my own past and my own ancestors. S. Mamede lights, Oil on panels/canvas and watercolor, respectively, varied dimensions, 2017-2019
land and light The mutability of nature amazes me. The metamorphoses that occur in it make everything even more challenging and unique. “The shadow of a tree on a floor full of bulbs, the lights of an evening in a cereal field...” It’s funny that when I paint canvases away from home in several sessions, my painting ends up behaving like na- ture. It is as if it had no end, the only thing that happens is that everything changes and transforms gradually and chronologically. Sometimes the process of getting to the result becomes more interesting than the results themselves. This is ex- citing and unpleasant because I end up overworking the painting, most of the times. I feel like painting everything. When I look at nature in its individuality, with each brush stroke, I see it better and see it more.
Shadows in the harvest, Oil on canvas, 30 x 20 cm, 2019
Beiga, Oil on canvas, 35 x 28 cm, 2019
Palm tree, Oil on canvas, 2019 Vase, Oil on canvas, 2019
Riverbank, Watercolor, 2019
Riverbank, Watercolor, 2019
Riverbank, Oil on canvas, 27 x 22 cm, 2019 Dead end, Oil on canvas, 25 x 20 cm, 2019 Clemente´s Old House, Oil on canvas, 35 x 25 cm, 2019
Smoke on the hill, Watercolor, 2018
Mirandela Mountains, Watercolor, 2019
Abadia, Oil on canvas, 25 x 20 cm, 2019
Abadia arcade, Watercolor, 2019
Floor with bulbs, Oil on canvas, 70 x 50 cm, 2019
Floor with bulbs, Oil on canvas, 50 x 40 cm, 2019
BEFORE SLEEPING Sometimes I spend a few hours waiting for my parents to fall asleep. My father takes longer. The unpredictable positions and deformed forms that bodies make while unconscious during sleep are one of my recurring themes. They are almost always born from short notes, quick drafts, or sometimes comprehensive brush strokes that form a body. Others take longer - when the eye abstracts from the mass of shapes in order to create lines that form unpredictable paths. They are almost all made on the weekend, at home, in an intimate space, with my parents as models. Perhaps here the pencil and the brush may be just an excuse to record memories.
Patterns 1, 42 x 59.4 cm, 2019
Patterns 2, 42 x 59.4 cm, 2019
Anacleto sleeping, 42 x 59.4 cm, 2019
Playing, 42 x 59.4 cm, 2018
Sketch of my mother, 2018
Sleeping, Oil on canvas, 50 x 30 cm, 2018
The ukulele, Oil on canvas, 60 x 40 cm, 2018
The profile, Oil on canvas, 25 x 20 cm, 2018
Sleep, Oil on canvas, 110 x 170 cm, 2019
“First we draw what we see; then we draw what we know; finally we see what we know” Robert Beverly Hale
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