The Michelin Guide classifies this beach as one of the 100 most beautiful in the whole world. The small sandy area close to Lagoa is still free from the crowd's invasion due to the fact it's sheltered by an high cliff. The pedestrian access is not easy (mostly in the way-back) but florid. The sea waters are transparent.
From here you can start a marvellous sea-watch focused on the marine caves at both sides of the beach. Algarve shore is plenty of marine caves. However, Praia Marinh…
Fernando Grade , Portuguese citizen, writer and poet, plastic artist, critic of art. He uses two heteronyms to divulge his literary work: Abel Sabaoth (born in Porto, 1936, teacher of Latin) and Aal Aarão (born in Lisboa, 1950, economist). Together with other poets of his generation he established the "Portuguese Disintegration Movement" which manifesto was published in 1965. Probably he is its most productive and legitimate representative. He still founded and co-ordinates the oldest poetry n…
"Lisboa, Av. da Liberdade", by Carlos Alexandre (represented at the Art Gallery / Espaço AmArte), oil on canvas
The drawing comes up easily. Very urban! And also from waters, fogs, travels, musics, dreams, events passing by the city. What is fascinating in the Carlos Alexandre painting is the movement, the indefinite shape's outline looking for its own perspective and place in the suddenly captured image. It is not easy to paint like that, underneath a sky of blue rectangles, running over b…
The very urban creator' spirit of Carlos Alexandre roams through Lisbon, Paris, Hamburg, Chicago, New York and other great cities.
Soon after he internalizes the collected images in his photographic unconscious and transforms them into recent memories. Or old, I say, once the vibration of colours and movement is untimely, sometimes more definite and understandable than others but always the same acute and poetic look catching the intense instant which escapes through the circu…
Life is made of living...Dream is made of dreaming.
The painting and sculpture of José Neto is made of life and dream. Frequent endogenous dreams from his metaphysical mind, expressed by colours, forms and techniques that life has generously taught him.
Neither all his mysteries will be unveiled, nor his original style easily referenced but, for sure, the painting and sculpture of José Neto fascinates us and challenges our capacity to dream together with him.
A vida faz-s…
José Neto , artist and philosopher. His work is based on deep thinking and a very reasonable experience of life, both allowing him to express without any limitations and to renounce to the will to be understood. As he say, " I know this attitude of mine is not current among artists, who generally delegate on critics or historians of art the justification of what they do". Despite of his indifference by critics, I can't lose the opportunity to record my appreciation on an artist that elects the…
The sea is an ocean's arm
and the ocean an earth's body
spacecraft without astrolabe or sextant
nor science of sails winds and currents
drifted in the infinity's tides
looking for what seaport
or yacht club for an intermediate stop in the space
where everything happens as if was nothing?
O mar é braço de oceano
e o oceano corpo da terra
nave sem astrolábio nem se…
Antonieta Roque Gameiro, specialized sculptor of the woman body knows the feminine sensibility through her mouldering hands and settles their individual and social attitudes before the existence through the terra-cotta burning up or the everlasting hardness of bronze.
Concretely we are seriously settled down on the women's kingdom, very often girls, alone, plunged into the intimacy of their nature and beauty, smiling, meditating or waiting for a sudden and surprising love. The poses,…
not all motionless
nor the night
while we watch the shooting stars
and hear the most crystalline
nem toda a quietude
nem a noite
enquanto vemos estrelas cadentes
e ouvimos as mais cristalinas
by Armando TABORDA, 2015
My guardian angel turns over my tingling ears
he wants to warn on the traps that wait
and lose me
or just tell that I exist in my diaphanous uselessness
each time more ephemeral
looking after the transfer from the nothing I am
to the all I will be.
Meu anjo da guarda volteja por sobre minhas orelhas febris
quer alertar-me das ciladas que me esperam
Pedro Charters d'Azevedo was born in Lisbon, in 1946. He is an Artist with major A despite his late career (he started drawing and painting regularly when he was around half a century of life), but taken seriously all along intense working journeys (he used to say that " he leaves the inspiration out of his studio's door").
So to speak we are in the presence of a professional artist exigent with himself, who investigates and experiments techniques, cultivates, develops and re…
We are fascinated by the text
cause it uses and abuses of lying
over which we walk in our insomnia's track.
The word is an artifice
and the text a light beam that sometimes burn and engrave the brief moment
while we feel the things absence
the fear of seeing ourselves cutting off roots .
O texto fascina-nos
porque usa e abusa das palavras…
From the brief light
of the star's movement
I apprehend the beauty of escaping forms
that will be lost in darkness
Pela luz breve
do movimento dos astros
apreendo a beleza das formas fugitivas
que se perdem na sombra
e no sono.
by Armando TABORDA, in "PALAVRAS, MÚSICAS E BLASFÉMIAS QUE ENVELHEÇO NA CIDADE", Ulmeiro Editores, 1996
(photograph by the Space…
This is my city
necessity of a stand
an open window for the night
the sea' smell
turns back by the river
among the sewer's nausea.
(to read the Portuguese version please click on the picture)
by Armando TABORDA, in "SINFONIA EM DOR MENOR" (illustrated by Carlos ALEXANDRE), Edição Escola de Mar, 2007
(post 1st ed…
In the long night veins nerves muscles scars and other tissues throb on me
spontaneous semen as a water thread
drop by drop oozed
on my stone's abdomen.
Petrified in granite I shine from quartz crystals
will-o'-the-wisp over the sleeping grave where I bury myself.
Appropriately I get older through this mineral mutation towards the ether where I float
in a spacecraft of smiling light
as the sl…
Your moonlight's face keeps silent
like it were the only reason
Teu rosto de luar que silencia
instante breve que extasia
como se fosse a única razão
by Armando TABORDA , in "PALAVRAS, MÚSICAS E BLASFÉMIAS QUE ENVELHEÇO NA CIDADE", Ulmeiro Editores, 1996
For Lionel Deyna
plane fat ideas
from highs which control
and utopias as soul's
attack in circle
afterwards they dream night
hanging in caves
where sunlight doesn't come in.
run away from the hunt's…
The dawn throbs into my veins
sclerosis of dreams
sex still at the pace of an engine close to the limits
to drive me away
from the night that dies
in the foreseen chance
of a day followed by another.
A madrugada lateja-me nas veias
esclerose de sonhos
sexo ainda ao ritmo de motor perto dos limites
para que me afaste
Eva Penalva, born in Lisboa, artist not in exclusivity. Normally, an artist born in Portugal to survive under dignified conditions either belongs to a rich family or exercises any remunerated profession. In this case the artist worked at the Portuguese Broadcasting. I refer the professional activity due to a strong influence it impressed on her artistic expression.
The music, the nature essentially liquid of life, the dream while rhythm of ideas as dancing bodies, the colours of soft ton…
by João Silva (represented at Art Gallery / Espaço AmArte), oil on canvas
Time of evolution is not yet coming
Man continues to exhaust the cosmos
till Himself becomes a dead spaceship
endlessly traveling towards God.
Não é chegado o tempo da evolução
o Homem fica a exaurir o cosmos
até que se transforme em aeronave morta
em viagem infinita para Deus.
by Armando TABORDA, in "Palavras, Músicas e Blasfémias que Envelheço…