NO TITLE

Authors

  • Flávia Freitas Castro de Melo Carvalho

DOI:

https://doi.org/10.25113/farol.v9i26.8083

Keywords:

Photo, Beautiful horizon

Abstract

An unpretentious record of a warm autumn day, from the top of a building in a great city that lives up to its name. Yes, a beautiful horizon. A horizon, there lost over the concrete, the noise and the exhausted sweat of those people who did not perceive it. Although he was not a photographer, Barthes awakens the enchantment for photography. He said: "[...] The immobility of the photo is like the result of a perverse confusion between two concepts: the Real and the Alive: by certifying that the object was real, it dubiously induces us to believe that it is alive, because of a deception that makes us attribute to the Real an absolutely superior value, as if eternal; but by deporting this real to the past ('that was'), it suggests that it is already dead" (Barthes, 1980, p. 118). It is dead. Those who did not perceive it will never see that horizon again. And those who could perceive it, did not see it from the same perspective, because nothing can break the barrier of the subjectivity of the gaze. They will see countless others that will come or that have already been, but not this one, except through the retina of another individual and through the lens that, just for him, was able to capture that image of a millisecond that will never come back. Maybe this is worth for a lifetime, for every instant. Without any pretension, this is an invitation to reflect and to exercise the gaze, even if it is difficult. This sky that was not seen could, who knows, bring breath to that tiredness and, who knows, make, by daring, a little yellow flower that cries out for life in the middle of the asphalt. Poetry will sprout in the midst of chaos. Because beauty must also resist. There remains the record of a unique look at the sky, on an autumnal afternoon, which will also no longer return, but which, paradoxically, remains eternal in this photograph that happily prints this issue. Alberto Caieiro (2013, p. 92) once wrote: There is only a closed window, and the whole world outside; And a dream of what you might see if the window opened, Which is never what you see when you open the window. Open the window and welcome.

References

Barthes, Roland (1980). A câmara clara: notas sobre a fotografia. Rio de Janeiro: Nova Fronteira.

Caieiro, Alberto [Fernando Pessoa] (2013). [XVIII] In Alberto Caieiro. Poemas completos de Alberto Caieiro (2a ed). São Paulo: Ática.

Published

2023-04-18