I might be a morning person, after all
The Aesthetics of Decay – A New Film Photography Project Coming to Life
Last Sunday morning I was out on my third “dawn urban adventure”.
After the excursion to the city centre of two weeks ago, a whole week went by before I could find the time or the energy — or the joy — for another one. As you might remember if you read my previous posts, part I and part II, I’ve had this new project in mind for a while now, and as it turns out, this historical moment is paradoxically a very good time to realise it, but because the time window is unknown — and we all hope short — every day is a wasted opportunity. No deadline, fertile soil for endless procrastination.
I often find that motivation can be found in doubt. Should we do something or not? Should we go for it or not? Most of the time the answer is really just to do it and see what happens. I can see where things might go wrong following this advice — so don’t do anything stupid or dangerous after reading this post!
I didn’t let myself be discouraged by my first failure and planned again for Sunday as the weather was also said to be sunnier. So I set my subconscious alarm and tried to focus on doing it, on me succeeding … you might call it projection or just concentration. Woke up at 5:59. I did it!
This is the final piece coming together! I have to go. I can’t miss this opportunity. It’s going to be a beautiful day and I don’t have time to waste. I prepare a coffee to take with me and something to eat and off I go… Well, I still have to carry my bike down SIX floors, but my reward is out there, waiting for me.
Ministerio do Mar, Av. Ribeira da Naus, Lisboa
The morning light timidly brightens up the night sky, the moon is big and still bright, the streets are empty and the air is fresh. A thought comes to mind and I record it on my phone. As it turns out, I do like mornings, so maybe I am a morning person? I mean it, this time of the day resonates with me: the fresh air, the quiet, the diffuse light and delicate colours, the whole day ahead full of possibilities. When I wake up very early and go out, I feel like the day is much longer.
Luckily there is no wind, I mean I might be warming up to mornings but cycling against the wind is absolutely zero fun at any time of the day! I glide on my bike straight to Marvila, stopping from time to time to take pictures, with my phone. I can’t waste my roll and these colours are too beautiful for black and white photography.
A couple of runners on the empty road … I feel like saying hi to everybody, not just to be kind and spread my good mood, but because, I think, everybody is a friend, living the same shit you are living, facing the same challenges and threats and having similar things to lose and to sacrifice.
Everywhere is a lot emptier than last Saturday. Easter Sunday makes this morning particularly quiet and unique.
I cycle past Praça do Comerçio and Santa Apolonia. The sky is pink and the burning circle of the sun is just peeking out, above the cloudless horizon. Surprisingly enough there is a cruise ship docked here. Whilst I obviously feel sorry for the people stuck aboard, and even more so for the crew, I can’t help but grimace inside and wonder if this is the time people finally realise how fucked up cruises are. I can’t understand how someone could enjoy being stuck on a giant floating building in the middle of the sea … let alone parked in a city port with no chance of getting off. A true nightmare.
A thought goes to the people living in the houses on the bank just in front of the massive cruise ship who now have their view completely ruined …
I cycle past the commercial port, past Beato, and just when I start to feel tired I see the building from a distance. That’s it. I am here. I made it.
The light is perfect, the sun has risen but it is just behind a thick cloud which diffuses the light of the morning in a photo-perfect way. I get off the bike and realise the opening that was there a month ago is closed … yes, I am 35 and I am going to have to climb the fence. There is no one around so I shouldn’t get in trouble. Unless anyone reading shares my secret…
I find a good place to climb, and after ditching a couple of rational thoughts like “I am crazy, I should really not be doing this, I am going to hurt myself, they are going to arrest me or worse fine me”... I am in.
I am in. I did it.
I feel a mixture of excitement, pride, fear of being discovered and anxiety of not knowing whether I will make it out easily.
I shoot a whole roll, Fomapan 400 ISO Black & White (I wish I had one with higher ISO for grain). I can’t believe how beautiful this place is. How huge. I try to imagine what the different spaces were, but there is so much here. I feel the need to wrap this up quickly and not think too much. To be really honest, I don’t feel completely safe and I don’t want to have to climb back out when there are more people around.
The weeds have taken over in every corner, tables and crates are lying around randomly. The roof dangles its beam-arms to the floor, tired of having to hold itself up through the years. The rotten wood from the roof and the walls, crumbled in on itself, has metamorphosed into a new, otherworldly material.
In a separate hall that looks like it was a bar or a live music club, something that looks like insulating foam on the floor, wet from the rain, has turned into a living moss. A wooden counter, looking surprisingly new compared to everything else, stands on my right looking out of the big windows into the street.
And there is a second floor! I climb the metal stairs and find myself in a spacious gallery with beautiful wrought iron windows looking into the central hall downstairs. I feel my heart opening at every turn of the corner. I reflect on my attraction to abandoned buildings … Someone once said photographing abandoned places is banal, it’s been done before, but that just makes me think that the fascination for abandoned has always been a thing.
Some words pop into my head trying to grasp what it is …
Exploration
Discovery
Danger
Secret
Mystery
And again:
Old
Transformed
Metamorphosis
Decay and decomposition, of forms and uses, through time and away from people. This place speaks in enigmas … you have to guess shapes and former uses, reconstruct lost meanings, connect with a silent and forgotten past. A thought, is my attraction about connection?
I do think, and have written before, that photography is a way for me to make sense and grasp the beauty of the world, immense and unintelligible. A way of putting things in order and of reconstructing, telling stories, creating my own meaning in a dance with a reality. Reality is often “ungraspable” in its extension and constant flowing, probably more so now than ever, and through the lens of the camera I choose to connect with it, silently. Try to make sense of it all. To then connect with you.
Cycling back I stare at the balconies of the cruise ship, I want to know if someone is actually living there. Hard to grasp, in the immensity of this structure, people’s tiny movements … but wait … there is someone on a balcony with a mask and gloves … waving their arms up in the air, breathing in and out? Are they waving good morning? Asking for help?
I still am secretly creating alternative scenarios …
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Sunday 12th of April 2020.
COVID19 Self-Isolation Day #30.
State of Emergency Day #24.
Notes
Images were taken with my iPhone8. Negatives to be developed soon.
The subtitle of this post is taken from a book title “The Aesthetics of Decay” by Dylan Trigg.