The image's essence and its multiplicity, as opposed to its uniqueness, are the underlying theme of the exhibition, whose various works—arranged in diptychs, triptychs, or polyptychs—live off their relationships with one another, forming a whole that enhances their expressiveness. By encouraging us to reflect on concepts of uniqueness and eternity criticallty, it challenges the idea of an autonomous and definitive image, 1José Maçãs de Carvalho uses the exhibition to bring to life concepts developed by art critic and historian Aby Warburg (1866-1929) relating to the law of good neighborliness, the creation of non-hierarchical relationships between images, and the iconology of intervals in defining relationships of meaning between them.
Narratives that contain other narratives within themselves—trans-temporal—are revealed to us in the first moment of the exhibition when we are confronted, in the dark room of the Círculo Sede, with duplicate images from the series S/título (Untitled, after gerhard r.), 2022. Taking up almost the entire wall that houses them, the six large-scale photographs, arranged horizontally in two parallel rows, plunge us into a continuous mise-en-abyme. Building on the relationship with the photographs from the series of paintings that Gerhard Richter (1932) produced in 1972, in the context of the German representation at the Venice Biennale, José Maçãs de Carvalho (re)photographs them in the contemporary era, proving both the timelessness of the historical figures portrayed and the image's survival throughout the history of art and culture. Faces that become territories in a series that—despite the fixed plane of the images—announces a sense of movement, a kinematics that runs through it. Of particular note are two important aspects of the work: the uniqueness of the place where it is photographed, the collection of the State Russian Museum (St. Petersburg), to which the artist attributes legibility and visibility as an interstitial space; and the frame of the images itself, to which is added another that reveals the hands of those who are invisible in the photographs, plunging us into a duplicity of frames and times as we observe the series.
This duplicity is found again in CAPC's long corridor, where the originality of the installation of the diptych S/título (Untitled, hotel lisboa #1 and #2), 2014, on opposite corners of the corridor, compels the viewer to be aware of time, their physical presence in the space, and their own body movements, which are necessary for observing and reading the photographs. The tautology captured in the image of Hotel Lisboa’s exterior lobby in Macau—a space suspended in time—is imbued with an abundance of light that immediately draws the viewer’s attention. However, upon closer inspection, one can discern subtle differences between the images, particularly in terms of color, time, and movement.
Small differences that, as in a game, we detect in the works S/título (Untitled, praia grande), 2014; S/título (Untitled, taipa screen), 2014 and S/título (Untitled, wynn’s) 2011, which are displayed across each of the second room’s walls dedicated to the exhibition. The functionality of these combinations of photographic images stems from the minimal contrasts detectable between them, whether they are superimposed or positioned side by side. Three series anchored in reality explore repetition, sequence, and the good neighborliness of similar yet distinct images.
According to a vertical organization, the triptych S/título (Untitled, Praia Grande) reveals what, at first glance, appears to be a repetition of the same photograph of a couple who, in the foreground and with their backs to the viewer, observe Praia Grande Bay (Macau), the backdrop to the depicted scene. However, as we observe the second and third images in the composition, we notice slight differences between them: small movements of the protagonists' heads and arms, as well as the photographic framing, making the bay's maritime landscape with its bridges no longer visible.
The photographer's subtlety and mastery in matters of perception, time, and spatial experience are equally evident in S/título (Untitled, taipa screen), which, while appearing to be a single panoramic image, is in fact a black-and-white diptych produced by the digitization of two negatives. From images captured inside a car, the artist offers us a backdrop of the island of Taipa, captured through the vehicle's windows, a trompe-l'oeil that deceives the observer. Just as we are surprised by the large Coca-Cola bottle in the landscape in this work, the presence of advertising brands continues in S/título (Untitled, wynn’s). The polyptych, composed of eight proofs, reveals the urban landscape from the Wynn Casino-Hotel (Macau), presenting visitors in the foreground, with their backs to the camera and backlit, and grandiose buildings rising on the opposite shore of the hotel lake in the background. When we look closely at the polyptych, we notice the movement of people, as well as—in one of them—the reflection of water features in the lake, conveying to the viewer a sense of the passage of time and slight movement. Another highlight is a digital panel in the landscape, whose red lighting is reflected in the water, captivating the attention, and whose central screen displays the names of luxury brands. In each of the eight images, the brand name changes, in a gesture-manifesto by the artist to insert the word into reality and in a possible critical approach to capitalism.
The tension between stillness and movement, repetition and variation, similarity and difference, continues in the film Des Voeux Road (forever young), 2010. At first, it appears to be a photograph of a young Chinese man, but as we continue watching, we realize it is an advertising poster on a street in Hong Kong. In a fixed shot, the incessant movement of urban traffic dominates the film, causing the boy´s image to disappear. At the same time, we hear a male voice singing a Chinese version of the lyrics to the song forever young, embodying the fantasy of being forever young, in a work that immortalizes the subject.
On the top floor, we find 21 minutes pour une image (2019), which is the video that gives the exhibition its name and is inspired by Agnès Varda's (1928-2019) television project Une minute pour une image (1984). Highly photographic, the fixed and continuous shot, without cuts or edits, constantly reveals the same image: a tourist spot in Macau, with a replica of the Eiffel Tower, where passersby take photographs in real time. Combining static and moving elements, it synthesizes the image´s multiplicity that gives the exhibition its theme, as it is a succession of thousands of frames. A certain voyeurism compels us to observe: what sociological experience do people who, without identity, photograph themselves and pose for their own cameras, ordinary people who are at the center of the representation, manifesting the artist's interest in the common and the banal, in capturing everyday moments, while respecting the real time of those portrayed, free from cinematographic protocols, and circadian time.
On the opposite side of the room, in an original montage, we encounter a “false” diptych of two identical photographs taken at different times: S/título (Untitled, sheraton,1991), 2016 and S/título (Untitled, canon, hk), 2026. These are paronymous images, both featuring two women as the main characters, holding devices in an outdoor setting, a motif also present in the previous work. In the older black-and-white image, the woman portrayed looks directly at us, pointing a Sony video camera toward us, while in the more recent color image—with emphasis on the red of her painted lips and dress—the protagonist is shown from the side, holding a Canon camera. The artist's inclusion of the devices' brand names is not innocent. Although each image exists per se, both acquire additional expressiveness when placed in dialogue.
The last room dedicated to the exhibition presents the triptych Autorretrato no teatro anatómico #1, #2 e #3 (Self-portrait in the anatomical theater #1, #2, and #3), 2025, where each image is displayed on different walls, in an interesting narrative that invites us to circulate through the space. The exoticism of the anatomical theater, a place where time stands still, is enhanced by the play of light in images laden with mysticism, mystery, and the ghostly aura of the self-portrayed artist, whose body, ever in motion in the photographic sequence, seems to dematerialize, as if dramatizing death.
The exhibition was developed based on the idea that films and cinema are entirely indebted to photography. Assuming the artist's anxiety—common to photographers—in choosing the right image, JMC opts for the opposite, presenting multiple combinations of photographic and filmic images, which - sequential, fixed, and falsely identical - launch us into an exercise between the gaze and what we look at.
The exhibition is on view at CAPC, in Coimbra, until March 21.
1 MADEIRA, Daniel - 21 minutes pour une image [folha de sala da exposição].