Lastro Exhibition | [ voltar ]
Por Helena Mendes Pereira
Alastrar, fazer caminho,
saber esperar por Paulo Canilhas
Um texto crítico sobre um autor e a sua obra deve, talvez, começar por referências curriculares, passando por uma análise da criação e imiscuindo-se de subterfúgios poético-filosóficos, subjetivos e pessoais. Talvez. Contudo, uma das vontade partilhadas por mim e pelo Paulo Canilhas (n.1969) é esta da busca de nós mesmos e desta urgente aprendizagem do silêncio, da calma e da paz interior, numa fuga sagaz à urgência dos dias (de que também padecemos) mas que queremos viver num absoluto conforto e, ao mesmo tempo, inquietação, de um estado de alma em que, sabendo-se de todos os areais dos desertos da vida e dos muito menos oásis, o que importa é o caminho, a aprendizagem e a base, o lastro que se cria na viagem. Gostei sempre do trabalho do Paulo Canilhas e gostei mais quando o meu olhar se confrontou com o seu belo cromático, num gesto de expressão livre, que ora nos sugere uma transnarratividade camuflada, ora nos desafia à abstração de todas as poéticas da cor profundas e intensas.
Helena Mendes Pereira | [ voltar ]
By Helena Mendes Pereira
To spread, to make way,
to know how to wait by Paulo Canilhas
In the desert you can walk for days, weeks and even months without seeing anything other than the sand; well, there always comes a time when a wonderful oasis appears, that invites you to stop and refuel. However hard it may be the path that leads to an oasis, any oasis always deserves the effort of the traveller. Such is the satisfaction and joy gained there that the travelled path, the memory of the travelled path, does not make it so arduous. With the forces restored in the oasis, it becomes a path where it is not unusual for the traveller to get impatient again. It is so until, suddenly, when less expected - almost when despair -, another oasis reappears. For this is precisely what the desert teaches: to walk on land and to stop where there is water, it is like this one day after another until the moment comes when one discovers that one not only loves the oasis but also the path itself: one loves the sand, the difficulty.[1]
A critical text about an author and his work should, perhaps, start with curricular references, passing through an analysis of creation and meddling with poetic-philosophical, subjective and personal quibbling. Perhaps. However, one of the desires shared by me and Paulo Canilhas (b.1969) is this one of the search for ourselves and this urgent learning of silence, calm and inner peace, in a sagacious escape from the urgency of the days (of which we also suffer) but that we want to live in absolute comfort and, at the same time, restlessness, in a state of soul in which, knowing all the sands of life's deserts and much fewer oases, what matters is the path, the learning and the basis, the ballast that is created in the journey. I always enjoyed Paulo Canilhas' work and I enjoyed it even more when my gaze confronted his beautiful chromatic, in a gesture of free expression, whether suggests a hidden transnarrativity or challenges us to the abstraction of all poetics of deep and intense colour.