ALÉM (BEYOND)

    Last year, I explored where I came from, what I'm made of, memories and relationships, the connection with the women in my family (who passed me the textile tradition), the idea of keeping objects that were part of a past. To preserve the origins and inheritance. I believe that family, people and culture are our land, the place where we were born and grew up is our land. As important and participative as it is in daily life, our place, because it is ours, because it is constantly lived, lead us to a routine, a daily tiredness. The exhaustion of living in one place, leads us to look for another place, such as a nomad.

    My intention this year was to develop a project that would allow me to explore the idea of looking for a place, a land. The idea of change, when taken during a relationship, implies several decisions that do not depend entirely on me, it implies waiting, rhythm and yielding. Based on this idea of displacement and adoption of a culture that is not mine, taking advantage of writing as a part of imagination, I wanted to develop pieces throughout the year that would transport me to another location, that would translate this idea of change, of process, as well as the idea of waiting and delay, the passage of time. I decided to call this project Beyond, minding that my intention is to move to a distant place, beyond the Tagus - Alentejo (Beyond Tagus). It is beyond what I lived, beyond what I am and where I am. I wanted to create a narrative that told about the eventual change and what I lost along the way. If on the one hand I have what I was, on the other I want to have what I will be. It is impossible, of course, to define a destination that will always have different obstacles and paths.

   Throughout the year, I created three works, where I plan my move to Alentejo. In all of them, I resorted to textiles and some practices inherent to it to make my ideas come true. In the first work I relate my origin (family) to a traditional Alentejo practice, including the notion of waiting and long duration. In the second, I represent the memories and experiences that I had in the North and that I want to take with me, because they taught me to grow and change. In the third, I conclude with the harvest of all the love I had and that I left behind, and I use the empty field as the fear that this change may become, which may not reap and be in vain.

   In this project I used textiles, and essentially embroidery, as they have been a very common practice in my family for four generations. It makes perfect sense to me to use my roots to represent what I am and what I want to be. However, this is a matter very much related to handicrafts and therefore it is difficult to understand the distinction between handicrafts and art. The truth is that from the moment that my work represents me, they have a meaning, a feeling or a concept, they enter the context of art. Handicrafts, on the other hand, generally refer to pieces where the greatest value lies in the technique and ability to produce, and usually have a function, whether decorative or practical. In other words, art is a reflection of our thoughts and craftsmanship is a reflection of skills. All art has a little bit of craftsmanship, and all craft has a little bit of art. Both have their own value and both are valid and cannot be despised. Both require an audience that admires them and is able to understand the emotions or perceptions they convey.

     My project and the techniques I use to conceive it are apparently on the threshold between crafts and art, but, after a careful analysis, we realize that they are totally within the sphere of art. My work is full of symbolism and concept, my work starts from my emotions and experiences, and has no intention of being functional. I would never use my Arraiolos' rug as an adornment, nor would I use our sheet on the bed, nor would I carry my purchases in my saddlebag. My pieces are documentary and a matter of expression and communication.

    I understand my work beyond what it appears to be.