sexta-feira, 14 de outubro de 2016

2016, POSTWAR 1945-1965, Okwui Enwezor (Munique), Realisms (III)

 POSTWAR 1945-1965, Okwui Enwezor (Munique 2016)

Alice Neel, Beauford Delaney, Julio Pomar, etc

The United States had its own contingent of fellow travelers. As Alice Neel, considered by manv a pioneer of Socialist Realism in American painting, declared in 1951, "I am againest abstract and non-objective art because such art shows a hatred of human beings. East Harlem  is like a battlefield of humanism, and I am on the side of the people here, and they inspire my paintings." The dandyish pose struck by the young George Arce in his portrait by Neel is hit a thin vencer over the violent life of teenagers of color in Spanish Harlem.

Alice Neel, quoted in Andrew Hemingway, Artists on the Left: American Artists and the Communist Movement, 1926-1956 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2002), p. 248.



The long pictorial tradition of a victimized yet heroic peasantry continued to empower artists to voice a strong "j'accuse!" against regimes of political domination. The Portuguese artist Julio Pomar thus painted the monumental female rice-pickers in Etude para Ciclo do Arroz II (Study for Rice Cycle II, 1953; plate 183) under the dictatorship of António Salazar.

See, lúlio Pomar. Alexandre Pomar. and Natalía Vital. Júlio Pomar, Cataloque raisonné (Paris, Différence. 2001),










2016, Postwar, Realismos (II)

 

A arte no Pós-guerra, Munique, Haus der Kunst, 14 Outubro

Será uma das mais importantes exposições internacionais do ano: a mais ambiciosa revisão revisão alguma vez realizada das duas décadas que se seguem ao fim da 2ª Guerra.

Por razões várias, porque 1945-1965 é o meu tempo, por razões de ordem pessoal (e familiares), por tratar questões que tenho investigado e divulgado (os realismos do pós-guerra, os inícios da arte moderna africana, e em Moçambique em particular; a rede informal formada nos finais da década de 1950 / inícios de 1960' por Ulli Beier na Nigéria, Pancho Guedes em Moçambique, Frank McEwen na Rodésia do Sul e Julian Beinart da África do Sul; o 1º Congresso Internacional da Cultura Africana, ICAC, em 1962, Salisbury), interessa-me muito esta exposição que inaugura a 14 de Outubro em Munique, na Haus der Kunst.

O facto de ter colaborado na recolha de documentação sobre o neo-realismo português (também com apoio do Museu de Vila Franca de Xira) e sobre alguma África ignorada dos anos 50/60, justifica ainda uma maior curiosidade. <Mas a morte de Enwezor anulou os previstos Postcolonial e Postcomunist>


Resistência, 1947 e Estudo para o ciclo Arroz, 1953. Ao lado de Alice Neel, George Arce 1953,  e Beauford Delaney, Retrato de James Baldwin 1945, em cima John Biggers, The history of negro education 1955, na secção  Realisms


Fica adiante um dos textos que o museu de Munique produziu para divulgação:

Postwar: Art Between the Pacific and the Atlantic, 1945-1965

Curated by Okwui Enwezor, Katy Siegel, and Ulrich Wilmes

Narrative

Background

The terms “postwar,” “post-colonialism,” and “post-communism” describe the cultural, political, and historical conditions under which the world has developed since 1945. As individual subjects of artistic inquiry and cultural analysis, these concepts represent the three-part, long-term research and exhibition project developed by Haus der Kunst and its international institutional partners during the past eight years. The purpose of this project is to bring together leading and emerging scholars, historians, artists, curators, theorists, and students to examine the artistic forces and cultural legacies that have shaped the production of art across the world since 1945. The first part of the project concentrates on art of the postwar era in the two decades between 1945 and 1965.

“Postwar” describes the historical period following the end of World War II in 1945. These years delineate the decisive defeat of Germany in Europe and of Japan in Asia, marking a turning point in global history. The catastrophe and disarray brought about by the war — with whole cities and countries destroyed, tens of millions of people slaughtered, and a massive refugee crisis that impacted millions of stateless people — were cast against the backdrop of the first use of the atomic bomb and a confrontation with the full horror of the concentration camps. The moral and technological legacies of Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and Auschwitz came to represent the crisis of humanism.

In the field of art, the postwar period marks a particular historical and cultural turning point, for it brought about the waning dominance of Western European art capitals and the rise of the international presence and hegemony of contemporary American art, popular culture, and mass media. This cultural shift, in fact, mirrored the shift in geopolitical power in which defeated Europe acquired and acquiesced to new patrons and protectors. In Europe, as the Cold War divided the continent into two separate spheres of influence — the Warsaw Pact countries of Eastern and Central Europe allied with the Soviet Union, and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization countries of Western Europe allied with the United States — the state of the arts also revealed a distinct ideological fault line: between communism and capitalist democracy, socialism and liberal democracy.

Informing this simplifying binary, which obscured more complex motivations for artistic production, were the ideological and artistic rationale behind the terms “abstraction” and “socialist realism.” These terms became moral equivalents in the contest for a renewed vision of art after the war.

The same spheres of influence also divided two indomitable competitors in the Pacific: the United States and the Soviet Union. On a global scale, however, several factors complicated this binary — decolonization struggles, independence movements, and anti-colonial resistance in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East — even as the Cold War powers courted and sought control of the new nations. These increasingly independent actors suggested quite different orientations and alliances — including pan-Africanism and the Non-Aligned Movement — in the wake of imperialism and the end of the war. The question was asked everywhere: what would global modernity look like?

Taking these factors as starting points for a major art-historical inquiry, Haus der Kunst has conceived Postwar: Art Between the Pacific and the Atlantic, 1945-1965 as an in-depth, global study of the postwar period across the practices of painting, sculpture, installation, performance, cinema, and music. The exhibition will open at Haus der Kunst on October 14, 2016, and will subsequently travel.

With its global perspective, the exhibition shifts the focus away from the Western vantage point and redirects attention to the polyphonic and multifocal examination of art since 1945. Postwar: Art Between the Pacific and the Atlantic, 1945-1965 therefore seeks to understand the complex legacies of artistic practice and art-historical discourses that emerged globally from the devastation wrought by World War II. Through the vital relationship between art works and artists, produced and understood from the perspectives of international, regional, and local contexts, the exhibition traces artistic developments during the first two decades after the war by following the sweeping lines of the two oceans across Europe, Asia, the Pacific Rim, Africa, the Mediterranean, North America, and South America. Probing differing concepts of artistic modernity — such as abstraction, realism, figuration, and representation — the exhibition explores how individual receptions and formulations of modernism informed the variant manifestations of modern art. By following these divergent and convergent vectors of influence, the exhibition invites reflection on the development of art that straddles continents, political structures, economic patterns, and institutional frameworks.

If we are to refigure the cartographies of postwar modernism, what sort of methodologies might we deploy? To what extent did the political exert pressure on the aesthetic, or the cultural on the artistic? In turn, how did artists, critics, and intellectuals negotiate, resist, or even subvert political ideologies? How did artists reapply their practices and aesthetics in diverse political and cultural contexts, especially in response to hegemonic paradigms? Conversely, how did artistic and intellectual movements from the former colonial peripheries impact the terrains of modernism? How, then, did the circulation of art, objects, discourses, and ideas shape the global contours of postwar modernism? What, if any, were the connections between form and content in the postwar world?

The Exhibition

Postwar sits squarely in the tradition of such large, synthetic historical exhibitions as Westkunst that have looked at the social history of art across several geographic regions under the conditions engendered by World War II. Yet in another sense, the present exhibition is entirely unprecedented, in that it examines art of the postwar era from multiple perspectives — East and West, North and South, colonizer and colonized, Pacific and Atlantic — placing regional, national, transnational, and other interests and affinities in dynamic relation to each other. This critical overview also includes relations of conflict — as in the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union — and various liberation struggles, from Algeria anti-nuclear campaign to the civil includes relations of connection — by the “between” of the exhibition moving across national boundaries.

Finally, for the first time in the Postwar describes a truly global condition: the increasingly interlocked and interdependent nature of the world today as a single entity, as prompted by new political and technological realities. Organized in eight thematic sections, Postwar illuminates these epochal social, material, and epistemological shifts in their full scale and scope through major art works, ephemera, and documentation.

Sections
1. Aftermath: Zero Hour and the Atomic Era

The postwar era is introduced by the apocalyptic image of the atomic bomb — a new technology that ushered in an era of intertwined beginnings and endings, promise and betrayal. As contemporaneous images of the concentration camps put an end to European aspirations to moral universalism, the bomb and the devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki signaled the end of Europe’s political power in the world and the opening of an era of American military dominance. This, in turn, prompted a new kind of war: the Cold War and the arms race. While announcing a period of occupation in Japan, the end of World War II also ushered in an era of struggles for liberation and independence in Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and elsewhere. Ubiquitous both as an image of itself and in the threat it posed to the entire world, the iconography of the mushroom cloud helped to create a new consciousness of the globe as a single, interconnected entity, a new sense of scale emphasized by the space exploration program that would emerge from military technology, affording views of the Earth that reinforced this sense of global integrity and interconnection.

The American use of the bomb represented and enacted American military and economic dominance. American artists such as Norman Lewis, in Every Atom Glows: Electrons in Luminous Vibration (1951), were excited by the wondrous natural revelations and awed by the biblical scale of the bomb’s power, even as they were skeptical of the U.S. government’s apologetics for its use. The bomb was also, obviously, a Japanese story, told through photography (much of it suppressed, only to be released later) and by such artists as Iri and Toshi Maruki, who returned to Hiroshima just three days after the bombing and decided to begin an ambitious cycle of paintings — The Hiroshima Panels (1950-82) — that would describe the suffering they saw there. In the wake of futurism’s worship of technology, Italian artists were also keenly focused on the bomb. In 1952, Enrico Baj painted the Boom Manifesto, featuring a black mushroom-cloud-shaped head against an acid yellow background overlaid with anti-nuclear slogans and formulas: “The heads of men are charged with explosives/every atom is exploding.”

Photographs and films of ruined cities and of concentration camp survivors were released in the immediate postwar period. The shock of these images, and the full realization of the scale and depth of the horror of the camps, sparked many works, among them Joseph Beuys’s Monuments to the Stag (1949-58), Gerhard Richter’s Atlas (1962-present), and Wolf Vostell’s German View from the Black Room Cycle (1958-63).

2. Form Matters

Materialist abstraction is also accounted for in the exhibition, with work that was grouped under such labels as “art informel,” “abstract expressionism,” and “Gutai,” as well as work by artists who responded to the look of this work but found different and local meanings in the material and how they handled it. Critics at the time emphasized stylistic competition that has often devolved into national competition in historical accounts, pitting, for example, the French artist Nicolas de Stael against the American Franz Kline as a symptom of the official promotion of American values — individual freedom and democracy — as embodied in abstract painting.

Today it is easier to see the transnational character of many of these artistic strategies, and Postwar emphasizes the affinity of ideas and materials among artists who emigrated to the U.S. from Europe. It also documents the encounters of artists from around the world who gathered in such metropolitan centers as Paris, London, and Mexico City; and reviews the proximity and circulation of art works in international exhibitions and small press publications. Yoshihiro Jiro in Japan, Jean Dubuffet in France, and Avinash Chandra in India, for example, shared a belief in art that is organic, materialist, and vitalist. Others sought to push gestural painting into full-body, performative experiments, including Carolee Schneemann, Hermann Nitsch, Niki de Saint Phalle, Tetsumi Kudo, and Kazuo Shiraga.

This materialist art is typical of the postwar period in its difference from earlier European iterations of modernism, often rejecting geometry in a critique of rationality and science, which were seen as dead-ending in the war and the bomb. Instead, artists favored gesture, raw materials, chance, and physical laws; surfaces are tactile, rough, and uneven. Many artists, including Alberto Burri, Jiří Kolář, Antoni Tàpies, Mohan Samant, John Latham, and Ivo Gattin went further still, to invoke the entropy of matter and, more specifically, the outright destruction related to the traumatic events and lingering ruins of the postwar landscape.

3. New Images of Man

Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and Auschwitz laid bare the failures of Western civilization. In the wake of these shocks came ambivalent political attempts to establish geopolitical systems that would be more just, through such new legal forms as the United Nations and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights — putatively global but in fact dominated by Western authority — and the struggles for full citizenship and autonomy of people in former European colonies. Philosophers and artists sought to inquire more deeply into human nature itself, in debates that included the discourses of négritude and existentialism, and the rights of individuals and groups within larger (often oppressive) social and political entities. “New Images” features pictorial versions of such inquiries, in which humans often appear battered, deformed by the horror of modern life, rent by the question of their own value.

These artists often deliberately combined figuration and materialist facture, refusing the choice between abstraction and representation — or between physical and social life, seeing the binary as not only ideologically false but also deeply destructive. In 1950, at a postwar art conference in Darmstadt, Germany, political opposites Hans Sedlmayr and Theodor Adorno found surprising common ground in bemoaning the missing center of contemporary culture: contemporary art seemed unable to appeal to fundamental human concerns, including emotion and everyday life. This concern was echoed by such East German migrants as Georg Baselitz, who eschewed the politically charged choice between abstraction and socialist realism to render individual figures that were severely deformed but vigorously alive. MoMA’s New Images of Man exhibition (1959) gathered examples of contemporary art from twenty-three American and European artists, including Francis Bacon, Willem de Kooning, Albert Giacometti, and Jackson Pollock. In his introduction to the catalogue, theologian Paul Tillich warned of “the danger in which modern man lives: the danger of losing his humanity,” a danger located both in totalitarianism and in technologically-oriented mass society.

The most significant counterforce to universalist Western humanism came, in different veins, from former European colonies. Leopold Senghor wrote in 1961 of the need to particularize and locate the human being, in contrast not only to modernist (Western) universalism but also to Marxist universalism: “Man is not without a homeland. He is not a man without color or history or country or civilization. He is West African man, our neighbor, precisely determined by his time and his place ... a man humiliated for centuries less perhaps in his hunger and his nakedness than in his color and civilization, in his dignity as an incarnate man.” The laborers painted by Inji Efflatoun, for example, express this specific dignity.

Sometimes, as with Franz Fanon's “new man,” the formerly colonized claimed a moral right to define humanism broadly and universally, a right abrogated by the West with its inhuman behavior in war and colonization. We see this new humanism in the thinkers depicted by Indian artist Francis Newton Souza — colored bodies appropriating the traditional intellectual and ethical prerogative of Western man. South African artist Ernest Mancoba offered yet another restatement of universalist humanism. For him, differences in identity categories belonged to colonialism and underlie the fracturing of art: “In no domain more than in the arts has this systematic dichotomy caused such destruction of the very foundation to the human identity, as both belonging to nature and sharing in the essence of an ideal being.”

4. Realisms

The other half of the Cold War binary is, of course, the socialist realism of Soviet, Chinese, and Eastern and Central Europe. Here, to a greater extent, institutional appropriation came before, not after, artistic production. Nevertheless, accounts of this category, too, can be overly fixed. Even in the heyday of its enforcement, socialist realism was not a single style. Under Mao Zedong, Chinese artists produced large official portraits of the Chairman (Jia Youfu, Marching Across the Snow-covered Mount Minshan, 1965) and scenes depicting model workers, but there was also tolerance of traditional ink painting, with the addition of appropriate symbols of the new order, such as the red flag. In the Soviet Union, art from the 1940s to Josef Stalin’s death in 1953 is primarily characterized by affirmative images of work, especially by heroic images of party leaders (Wassilij Jakowlew, Portrait of Georgii Zhukov, Marshal of the Soviet Union, 1946). During the post-Stalinist thaw, genre painting influenced by the nineteenth-century Russian Wanderers became more prominent, as well as the “severe style,” influenced by Soviet art of the 1920s and early 1930s. Outside of the Soviet Union, because there was considerably more latitude for artists working with official socialist representation, such painters as the Czechoslovakian- born Willi Sitte made works that, while depicting officially sanctioned subjects, introduced personal drawing styles. Along with some works of moderate size intended for museums, this section emphasizes enormous public works, popular prints, and documentation.

“Realisms” also includes the influential Mexican muralist painter David Siquieros; ideologically programmatic art by such U.S. artists as Norman Rockwell, who was associated with realist rendering and popular audiences; and Communist Party artists working outside Communist-run countries, including Renato Guttuso and Boris Taslitzky.

5. Concrete Visions

While the international abstract style that dominated the postwar world was primarily materialist and gestural, prewar geometric abstraction did persist, albeit with an impetus quite distinct from that of European prewar artists. Concrete art in South America united the vitalism of Joaquín Torres García with European modernism and became an entirely independent phenomenon. Modernist forms were adopted early on in parallel to a nationalist developmentalism that did not simply stand against Western capitalism but figured in competition with it. “Concrete” art in Latin America — by the Madí group, for example, and such artists as Waldemar Cordeiro — was followed quickly by apparently very similar forms made by such neo-concrete artists as Lygia Clark and Helio Oiticica, which nonetheless were quite different in spirit. As Clark said, “We use the term "neo-concrete" to differentiate ourselves from those committed to non-figurative "geometric" art and particularly the kind of concrete art that is influenced by a dangerously acute rationalism ... none of which offers a rationale for the expressive potential we feel art contains.” Instead, neo- concrete art was imbued with an antirational vitalism, made socially specific, physically participatory, and psychologically liberating. In this sense, neo-concrete art rhymes with the non- programmatic, everyday formalism of an artist like Ellsworth Kelly,whose “geometric” art eschewed the rationalism — and still more broadly — the authority and dogmatism of earlier avant-garde movements.

6. Cosmopolitan Modernisms

Part of the alluring romance of modern culture has been the extent to which concepts of cosmopolitanism are often seen from a more elevated realm, as the condition, par excellence, of sophistication, worldliness, openness, and the comingling of cultures, ideas, and populations. But the loss of place for artists who migrate from one culture or national frontier to another casts a deep shadow on the romantic idealism of such worldliness.

Following the massive upheavals resulting from World War II, the terms of cosmopolitanism shifted radically. People were on the move. Massive populations — efugees, stateless people, and diasporas — were moving between continents, countries, and cities, forming dispersed lines of displacement, migration, exile, affinities, and settlements. In his essay “Reflections on Exile,” Edward Said touches on the dilemma of the exile, observing that “Exile is strangely compelling to think about but terrible to experience.” This is a valuable insight into how we might explore not only ideas of cosmopolitanism but also other conditions of being out of place.

For example, the hostile politics and constrained opportunities at home had pushed African American writers and artists like James Baldwin and Beauford Delaney to emigrate to Paris as a place of cosmopolitan refuge. So when we think of cosmopolitanism we should also imagine it within processes of change, upheaval, opportunity, fantasy, and as a form of cross-cultural and transnational artistic self-fashioning.

“New hybridities,” as scholars put it, have emerged in modernism and contemporary art when citizens of colonies and former colonies studied formally and informally in the West, or when refugees fleeing oppression and racism left their homelands to find safe places elsewhere. World War II was perhaps responsible for one of the largest and most extensive cultural and artistic migrations. The same is true of empire, with its discourse of la mission civilisatrice. Thus we can think of postwar art in recombinant terms, as a process of both acculturation and deculturation, whereby artists who combined international-style abstraction with indigenous, traditional, or local imagery fused new aesthetic logics and formal concepts. Particularly widespread was a kind of gestural mark-making (“calligraphic abstraction,” in Iftikhar Dadi’s term) that was as much iconic as it was indexical. That mark-making invoked identity and levels of meaning through allusion to language and legibility, challenging the universality of the modern. The Arabic calligraphic line was central to such artists as Sadequain and Anwar Shemza, who set the sinuous line of Arabic script in explicit relation to the geometry of the Roman alphabet. Categories including the local, tradition, nationality, autonomy, and universal conflict and combine to make new meanings.

Related situations of diaspora and the various colonial legacies, as well as Cold War funding for exchange, sent artists all over the world to study and participate in centers for the production and marketing of modern art.

Furthermore, magazines provided artists with an important source of virtual travel and intersection. As a result of exposure to publications such as Black Orpheus and Middle Eastern art, the work of Ibrahim El-Salahi and others reflects a pronounced set of pan-African and pan-Arabic references (African sculpture, Arabic calligraphy) informed by Western modernism. El-Salahi’s cosmopolitanism evidences time spent in London, but also reflects his relations with African American artists and musicians, travel to Mexico and China, and exhibitions in Nigeria and Senegal. His is a cosmopolitanism not primarily oriented towards the West.

El-Salahi_Self_Portrait_of_Suffering_Iwalewahaus-f

When we consider cosmopolitan modernism, we should think not only of diasporas and exile but also of deliberately chosen affinities. How might our picture of cosmopolitanism change when oriented not toward the lingering end of colonial relations but in dialectical relation to nationalism? A reversal of this dialectic might be seen in extended visits by Jacob Lawrence to Nigeria, under the auspices of the Harmon Foundation. Or in Mark Tobey’s travel to Japan, which inspired him to create calligraphic marks with no semantic meaning, but as a connotative reference to “other” languages and lives.

7. Nations Seeking Form

“Nationalism” is a word that has been in constant motion during the postwar period. In this sense the concept of nation, like nationalism, has generated considerable reflection through which to understand particular formations of cultural and social identity and the political communities in which they are founded. Benedict Anderson has used the notion of “imagined communities” to describe the shifting currents of ideas of the nation and nationalism. In his groundbreaking study on these two concepts, he offers a crucial insight when he asks us to consider “the political power of nationalisms versus their philosophical poverty and even incoherence.” Given the unhealthy history of nationalism in the twentieth century — especially its misuse and abuse in places like Germany and Japan during World War II — it is all the more necessary to carefully consider the figure of the nation in the context of this exhibition section, “Nations Seeking Form.”

Artists in the U.S. and Europe often declined to align themselves with their national governments, which had proven corrupt and militaristic. Nationalism had a different valence for artists in countries that had newly struggled for and won independence, such as Iraq, Cuba, China, India and Pakistan, Israel, Indonesia, Thailand, the Philippines, Nigeria, Senegal, and South Africa. For this reason, those artists sought cultural forms to articulate and represent new national identities.

Nigerian artists, for example, played institutional and governmental roles, through personal commitment to national independence and the role of culture in establishing identity. Ben Enwonwu and Uzo Egonu represented African masks and instruments in what appears to be a critique of the European appropriation of such imagery. In Egypt, Gazbia Sirry depicted the martyrdom of Egyptians at the hands of the British occupiers, thereby also linking the Egyptian condition to the oppression of African Americans (whose movement for civil rights, informing the work of Jack Whitten and others, could take on a nationalist coloration).

The struggle to define what was truly national in identity, for example, in the debate between those who advocated discarding cultural tradition in the effort to become both independent and modern, and those who saw indigenous identity as central to their new national identity. In Southeast Asia, the choice would be described as one of East versus West, with “the West” representing Europe, the future, education, and technological progress; and “the East” representing indigenous knowledge, non-Western identity, the past, and tradition. While India’s nationalist movement fought against Western colonialism, many Indians saw the same West as the future. How, then, to support locally distinctive cultural self-confidence? Artists in the Progressives group that flourished in the years after Indian independence in 1947 found different solutions: Francis Souza, who depicted the biblical figures in his works as dark-skinned, even entirely black, achieved success among British critics, who compared his work to that of Francis Bacon. Maqbool Fidal Husain, in contrast, stayed in India as his peers left: “They said you can’t grow as an artist in India, and that I should join them, but luckily I was married, so I think for that reason I couldn’t go! My main concern was Indian culture, so I took that route.” Husain’s work celebrated Hindu deities, albeit in their visual rather than religious aspects.

8. Networks, Media & Communication

At its conclusion, Postwar shifts the understanding of art engaged with mass culture away from the usual focus on consumer goods and the signs, symbols, and logos that advertised them, and instead toward the circulation, distribution, and communication of those signs via technology and broadcast networks. Certainly some artists focused on the power of representation. By means of narrative figuration, artist Hervé Telemaque’s My Darling Clementine (1963) scrutinizes widespread racial stereotypes. Politically oriented critiques more often emphasized a newer capitalism, the cocacolonization that was now not only American- dominated but blatantly global in extent, as in Jirō Takamatsu’s Strings in Bottles (1963) and León Ferrari’s The Western-Christian Civilization (1965). Underlying this extension was the global distribution and circulation of information, invoked in the work of Derek Boshier, Thadeusz Kantor, and Gerhard Rühm that took the airmail letter as its subject.

Communication also underlay the systems theories of cybernetics that appealed to an international array of artists rooted in a variety of aesthetic and political orientations. It had particular appeal for artists seeking affinities across national boundaries: the New Tendencies exhibition featured works by twenty-nine artists from Argentina, Austria, Brazil, France, Germany, Italy, Switzerland, and Yugoslavia. This new optical and kinetic art, like that of Mohammed Melehi, sought to transmit information on a fundamental, physiological wavelength transcending the cultural specifics of language. Similarly, communication drew artists to new technologies. The British artists in the Independent Group, particularly John McHale, were oriented toward popular culture’s technological, even futuristic aspects, from transistors to robots. Fluxus and other artists — including Lucio Fontana, Otto Götz, and Nam June Paik — experimented with the new medium of broadcast television, aspiring to make art that not only took part in the latest electronic technologies, but could also communicate to an audience beyond the art galleries themselves. All these artists sought an art adequate to a world conceived as a single integrated system or organism: in this way, the paradigm that dawned in the present exhibition’s introduction becomes conscious and fully developed in its conclusion.

There is today a clear connection between the systems theories of such figures as György Kepes, Norbert Weiner, and Marshall McLuhan, and the vision of an interconnected world, one in which relations of information and capital supersede national identities. The concluding section of Postwar, with its focus on communication and circulation, conflict and control, serves as a bookend to the show’s beginning with the technical invention, epistemological shift, and political reordering emblematized by the atomic bomb. Theories of feedback and communication that emerged from the science of the atomic bomb drove the restructuring of cities around the world, as did the wars in Indochina. And so the end of Postwar looks both backward and forward, to the next episode in this ambitious cycle of exhibitions: Post-colonialism.

 

2016, Postwar, 1945-65, Orkwui Enwezor, em Munique (I)


Post war 1 - depois da bomba

1 Hanna_19311 Hanna Arendt, "Zur Person" Full Interview. In German with English subtitles.

https://youtu.be/dsoImQfVsO4


À entrada da exposição, com o som a ocupar a 1ª sala

2 Em frente a... 

2 Beuys_1932Wostell, Appel, Louis, Stella e Beuys

Joseph Beuys, Monuments to the Stag (?), 1958/82

#

3 Francis Bacon (Fragment of a Crucifixion, 1950) & Andrzej Wróblewski (1927-1957, Lituânia-Polónia)

Bacon _0752

 4  Andrzej Wróblewski
1 Hanna_1931

1949 Liquidation of the Ghetto / Blue Chauffeur (frente e verso)

1949, Executed Man, Execution with a Gestapo Man.


#

5  Appel, Louis, Stella

8 Appel_0965

6 Gerhard Richter, ...
1 Hanna_1931

SECÇÃO 1

7 texto_0852

Secção 1 / 2

 

11 passagem_0853

Isamu Noguchi 1946, Richter 1963 (Bombers), Baj, Movimento Arte Nucleare 1951, David Smith 1949 / Joan Mitchell 1961 (Coll. Berardo)IMG_0761

Secção 1 sala 2

10 moore_0760Henri Moore 1964-65, Jess 1962, Paolozzi 1956, Appel

 

Sala_0759

 Tenho sérias dúvidas sobre a colocação da bomba atómica como tema e imagem iniciais da exposição Postwar. Eficaz em termos retóricos, mas talvez seja mais uma perspectiva anacrónica, uma leitura posterior aos factos. A memória directa da guerra, das destruições, bombardeamentos e campos, das mortes e das lutas de resistência parece-me dominar a criação artística internacional nos anos imediatos a 1945, em direcções opostas de dissolução da forma, destruição da figura, ou de construção figurativa, narrativa, utópica. Será no contexto da Guerra Fria que o perigo nuclear ganha consistência, como iminência de um novo conflito bélico e como referência mais assustadora.

Se o cogumelo de Henry Mooore é já de 1964-65, as obras vindas dos anos 40 respondem aos anos da guerra em geral, ou em contextos geográficos precisos, e não à "hora zero e a era atómica". O modo como a arte informal e o expressionismo abstracto mais as geometrias e concretismos se afirmam nos anos 40/50, podem corresponder a uma reconstrução de vanguardas divergentes que vai retomar dinâmicas muito anteriores à guerra e aos anos 3o de ameaças fascistas, ao mesmo tempo que reage a uma dinâmica do pós-guerra que a exposição não ilustra: a redescoberta e exaltação dos mestres modernos, após as condenações e ocultações nazis.

Os grandes mestres ocupam o espaço público internacional, em especial em França, enquanto a restante Europa está em ruinas e em reconstrução, e as posições críticas radicais e vanguardistas são minoritárias e marginais.

Os anos a partir de 47 são já da guerra fria, que impõe a sua lógica ao confronto entre figuração realista (associada ao nazismo e ao estalinismo, e aos movimentos antifascistas dos anos 30/40) e abstraccionismo, ao qual se associa a expressão da recusa dos totalitarismos e um entendimento finalista da arte moderna - o fim da figura e da narração-ilustração.

Embora a exp. tenha construído com a "Hora Zero" um início atraente e inovador, a realidade parece ser outra.

 

domingo, 28 de agosto de 2016

Fernando Guedes

 O crítico de arte Fernando juedes

Editor, poeta, amigo e cúmplice de Fernando Lanhas desde os anos 40, Fernando Guedes (n. Porto, 1929 - 2016) foi também crítico de arte, e nesse papel assumiu uma importância que tem sido pouco reconhecida por razões ideológicas e em especial pelo inquistamento de posições dominantes neste meio.

Entre outras publicações, F.G. reuniu colaborações dispersas em "Pintura, Pintores, etc", ed. Panorama - SNI, 1952 (actividade e livro que mereceu menos do que uma menção de J. A. França na sua história do séc. XX - a oposição entre os dois permite situar uma linha de omissões e incorrecções da historiografia portuguesa). Depois, "Estudos sobre Artes Plásticas - Os anos 40 em Portugal e outros estudos", INCM, 1985, é uma justa resposta à exposição sobre os Anos 40 organizada sob a tutela do mesmo J.A.França na Fund. Gulbenkian. Em especial, o seu testemunho analítico é essencial para acompanhar a intervenção do grupo dos Independentes do Porto, activos de 1943 a 1950, e onde se integram os inícios das carreiras de Júlio Resende, Fernando Lanhas (o principal animador), Nadir Afonso, Júlio Pomar, Arlindo Rocha, Victor Palla e outros. E também, por consequência, os inícios da abstracção, no Porto, depois atrasada para 1952, em Lisboa, entre outros efeitos.

Escreveu textos de crítica e divulgação nas revistas Graal, Tempo Presente, Rumo e Panorama, e nos jornais Diário Ilustrado (nº 1 em 1956, vespertino de qualidade impresso na gráfica do Diário da Manhã, orgão oficial do regime), Diário de Notícias e Diário da Manhã, o que o situa desde logo como um autor da direita ideológica, mas que no seu caso não diminui a qualidade da observação crítica. Foi um crítico atento e isento, particularmente interessado no abstraccionismo (ver a "Tábua cronológica da pintura abstracta em Portugal", de 1952), escreveu também alguma coisa sobre arte infantil e apresentou no pós-guerra artistas ingleses como Wyndham Lewis, Paul Nash, Henry Moore e Sutherland

 Tive há tempos a indicação de que Fernando Guedes organizou (ou foi só um dos participantes?) uma intervenção provocadora que ocorreu em 1960 contra a estreia no Teatro Capitólio, em Lisboa, da peça "A Alma Boa de Setsuan", de Bertold Brecht, apresentada pela Companhia de Maria della Costa, visando a sua interdição. O episódio motivaria algumas rupturas pessoais definitivas no meio ligado às artes. (Se não corresponde à realidade, desminta-se agora.) <Jorge Silva Melo já veio dizer que sempre ouviu "falar de Manuel Múrias como o organizador dos "eventos" anti-brecht-della costa; mas também de Goulart Nogueira">

Em termos pessoais, cabe referir a gentileza de me ter enviado, nos anos 90, fotocópias de todos os catálogos dos Independentes e alguns outros da época, num gesto raro de colaboração e reconhecimento mútuo.

(capas da ed. cartonada e corrente)




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terça-feira, 28 de junho de 2016

Moçambique depois de 1981

CRONOLOGIA

1981 - «Moçambique, a Terra e os Homens», 1º Salão Nacional de Arte Fotográfica, Maputo (Concelho Municipal, 3 Fev.), na origem da Associação Moçambicana de Fotografia - AMF - por empenho de Samora Machel, no contexto da guerra civil (1976 - 1992). Moçambique, a Terra e os Homens, ed. AMF, 1982, Maputo, printed Edicomp, Roma,1984.; Introdução de José Luís Cabaço, ministro da Informação - port., fr, ing, it. Com Ricardo Rangel (capa), Kok Nam, Carlos Alberto (Vieira), Daniel Maquinasse, Danilo Guimarães, João Manuel Costa (Funcho), Jorge Almeida, José Soares, Luis Bernardo Honwana, Luis Souto, Martinho Fernando, Moira Forjaz, Naita Ussene, entre 41 autores.

1981 - Rogério, Momentos, exposição na Fundação C. Gulbenkian, Junho / Julho, Lisboa. Catálogo com textos do autor.

1983 - Moira Forjaz, Muipiti, Ilha de Moçambique, textos de Amélia Muge, Luís Filipe Pereira e da autora, Imprensa Nacional-Casa da Moeda, Lisboa, por ocasião da visita de Samora Machel a Portugal. Moira Forjaz & Susan Maiselas (photographs by), text by Albie Sachs, Images of a revolution: mural art in Mozambique, Harare, 1983  / Imagens de uma Revolução, ed. Frelimo - 4º Congresso 1984 (imp. Minerva Central). Ruth First (pictures by Moira Forjaz), Black Gold: The Mozambican Miner, Proletarian and Peasant, St. Martin's Press, New York - Harvester Press, Brighton.

1983 Criação do Centro de Formação Fotográfica (CFF), Maputo, com apoio da cooperação italiana.  A partir de 2001, Centro de Documentação e Formação (CDFF). Direcção de Ricardo Rangel até 2009. 

1990 - Karingana ua Karingana, Il Mozambico contemporaneo visto dai suoi fotografi, a cura di Gin Angri, introduzione di Mia Couto. Ed. Coop, Associazione Nazionale Cooperative di Consumatori, Milano. Ed. bilingue, it. & port, textos de Mia Couto e Gin Angri (Catalogo della Mostra, Palazzo d'Accursio, Bologna). Com Ricardo Rangel, Kok Nam, Alfredo Mueche, Alfredo Paco, Fernando Martinho, Joel Chiziane, Jorge Almeida, José Cabral (capa), Luís Souto, Naita Ussene, Rui Assubuji, Sérgio Santimano. fotógrafos do Instituto de Comunicação Social (ICS), da Agência de Informação Moçambicana (AIM), da cooperativa fotográfica Alpha e também dos professores e ex-alunos do Centro de Formação Fotográfica,.
A guerra civil, a reconstrução o país

1992 - Uma vida a reportar a vida, pref. de Leite de Vasconcelos, ed. ENACOMO, Empresa Nacional do Comércio, Maputo. Com R. Rangel, K. Nam, J. Cabral, N. Ussene, Martinho Fernando…

1993  - Moçambique, Cinco Olhares: António Valente, Joel Chiziane, José Cabral, Kok Nam, Naita Ussene, produção CIDAC, exp. no Forum Picoas, Lisboa , 23 Abril – 2 Maio. Cat. com texto de Mia Couto.

1993 - Africa, Africa, editors Olaf Gerlach Hansen and Vibeke Rosttup Bøyesen, ed. Images of Africa, Denmark, 80 pág. "Is the first joint presentation of so many African photographers". De Moçambique: José Cabral, Martinho Fernando, Naita Ussene. 

1994 - Ricardo Rangel, Fotógrafo de Moçambique / Photographe du Mozambique, Coédition Editions Findakly, Paris/Centre Culturel Franco-Mozambicain, Maputo. français/portugais. tx de Zé Craveirinha, Mia Couto. Retrato por Rogério.

1994 - Revue Noire, nº 15, «Moçambique / Photographies», dir. Jean Loup Pivin, Paris, déc. 94 – jan. fev. 95. Moçambique: textos de Simon Njami, Aida Gomes da Silva, etc. Fotografias de Ale Júnior (capa), Alfredo Paco, José Cabral, Kok Nam, Naita Ussene, Rui Assubuji, Sérgio Santimano. 2. In "Une nouvelle photographie», Jean Loup Pivin. Com Rangel, Ale Junior, Assubuji. Santimano.

1994 - Rencontres de la Photographie Africaine de Bamako, Mali, org. Fondation Afrique en Créations, 5 - 11 Déc. Ricardo Rangel apresentado por «Revue Noire» ("Notre pain de chaque jour, les nuits de la Rue Araújo", 1960)

1996 -  In/sight. African Photographers, 1940 to the Present, dir. Enwezor Okwui, Guggenheim Museum, Nova Iorque, itinerante. Com Ricardo Rangel («Our Nightly Bread»).

1996 - Língua Franca, 16ºs Encontros de Fotografia de Coimbra, exp. colectiva e cat. c/ apresentação de M.C. Serén (edições em 1996 e 1998). Com Sérgio Santimano («Luisa Macuácua», 1992-95). 

1996 - 2es Rencontres de la Photographie Africaine de Bamako, Mali, org. Afrique en Creations. 9-15 Dezembro. Ricardo Rangel in «Regards Croisées» com Yves Pitchen, John Liebenberg, Pierrot Men); «Collectif Mozambique» (?) na secção Photo-reportage.

1997 - Maputo - Desenrascar a vida - Fotografias, Selecção, organização e textos de Nelson Saúte. Ed. Ndjira / Comissão Nacional para a Comemoração dos Descobrimentos Portugueses. Tipografia Lousanense. Lisboa. Cronologia elaborada por António Sopa (1500-1976). Fotos Centro de Formação Fotográfica, de Rangel, José Cabral, Rui Assubuji, Martinho Fernando, Naita Ussene, Alfredo Mueche, Carlos Cardoso, Gin Angri, Lise Lotte, etc 

1998 - L’Afrique par Elle-même, Maison Européenne de la Photographie, Paris, Juin-Aout (it. São Paulo,  Cape Town, Berlin, Londres: Africa by Africa: A Photographic View, 1999; Smithsonian, Washington, Nova Iorque; Anthologie de la Photographie Africaine et de l'Océan Indien, sous la direction de Pascal Martin Saint Leon, N'Goné Fall, Jean Loup Pivin. Éditions Revue Noir, Paris. Editions française, anglaise et portugaise (Brasil).

1998 - 3e Rencontres de la Photographie Africaine, Bamako: «Ja Taa» / "Prendre Image", cat. ed. Actes Sud. Sergio Santimano, «Cabo Delgado - Une histoire photographique de l’Afrique». »L'Afrique par elle-même" (extraits).

1998 - José Henriques e Silva, Pescadores Macua, Baía de Nacala, Moçambique, 1957-1973, Exp. Arquivo Fotográfico de Lisboa; ed. Câmara Municipal de Lisboa e Comissão dos Descobrimentos, Lisboa.

2001 - IVs Rencontres de la Photographie Africaine, Bamako: R. Rangel (expo. monographique); R. Assubuji, Luis Basto, S. Santimano, «Memoires intimes d’un nouveau millénaire» (expo. internationale).

2002 - Iluminando Vidas - Ricardo Rangel and Mozambican Photography / …e a Fotografia Moçambicana, dir. Bruno Z’Graggen e Grant Lee Neuenburg. Exp. Biene, Suíça; AMF, Maputo e Bamako, 2003; Culturgest, Porto, 2004; Joannesburg e Cape Town (Iluminando Vidas .Fotografia Moçambicana 1950-2001. Ricardo Rangel & the Next Generation), 2005.  Cat. ed. Christoph Merian Verlag, 2002,  two versions: English/Portuguese (softcover) / German/French . Tx. B. Z’Graggen, Allen Porter, Simon Njami,  António Sopa, Calane da Silva. Com Rangel, K. Nam, Joel Chiziane, João Costa (Funcho), R. Assubuji, A. Paco, Luís Basto, N. Ussene, Alfredo Muache, M. Fernando, Ferhat Vali Momade, Albino Mahumana, J. Cabral, Alexandre Fenías, S. Santinano.

2002 - PhotoFesta, Primeiros Encontros Internacionais de Fotografia, prod. AMF, comissários Rui Assubuji e Sérgio Santimano. Homenagem a Daniel Maquinasse; exp. Rogério («Verdade»), Sebastião Langa, Luís Abelard; Bamako 2001, etc. / PhotoFesta 2004, IIºs Encontros: Kok Nam («Grande angular da amizade»); João Costa («Cheiro a Independência»); colect. CFF - «Modos de Ver»; colectiva «Saudade de l’Espoir» (Ilha da Reunião, 2003) / PhotoFesta 2006 IIIºs Encontros: José Cabral («As linhas da minha mão»); S. Santimano («Terra Incógnita»); Mauro Pinto e Albino Mahumana («Ver Matola»)

2003 - Vs Rencontres de la Photographie Africaine, Bamako. Moçambique: «Iluminando Vidas»; Rui Soeiro (exp. international - «Rites sacrés / Rites profanes»); Mauro Pinto, «Ports d’Afrique»

2004 - Africa Remix, Contemporary art of a continent, dir. Simon Njami, Dusseldorf; Hayward Gallery, London;  Centre Pompidou, Paris, 2005; Tokyo, Stockholm, 2006; Johannesburg, 2007. Exp. col. e cat. Com R. Assubuji, Luís Basto, S. Santimano.

2005 - VIs Rencontres de la Photographie Africaine, Bamako, "Un autre monde»: Moçambique: Abilio Macuvele, Acamo Maquinasse, Rui Assubuji, Tomas Cumbana.

2006 - Snap Judgments: New Positions in Contemporary African Photography, dir. Enwezor Okwui, ICP International Center of Photograpy, Nova Iorque; Miami; Stedlijk Museum, Amsterdão, 2088: Luís Basto.

2006 - Sérgio Santimano, Terra Incógnita (Niassa), M'siro (ed. do autor), Uppsala, Suécia / VII Rencontres de la Photographie Africaine, Bamako, 2007.

2006 - «Réplica e Rebeldia, Artistas de Angola, Brasil, Cabo Verde e Moçambique», dir. António Pinto Ribeiro, prod. Instituto Camões. Maputo, Luanda, Salvador da Baí­a, Rio de Janeiro, Brasí­lia e Praia. Com R. Rangel, Alexandre Santos, L. Basto, T. Cumbana, Mauro Pinto. Cat. Port.-Ing.

2010 - «Ocupações Temporárias», prod. Elisa Santos, Maputo: com Mauro Pinto (e Filipe Branquinho, documentação), catálogo em DVD; 2011, com Filipe Branquinho e Camila de Sousa; 2013 «Ocupações Temporárias – Documentos», Fund. Gulbenkian, Lisboa. Coord. Elisa Santos e António Pinto Ribeiro. Camila de Sousa, F. Branquinho, Mauro Pinto.

2011 - IXs Rencontres de la Photographie Africaine, Bamako. Expo. Pan-Africaine. Mário Macilau (The Zionists / Maziones).

2011 - BES PHOTO, CCB - Museu Berardo, Lisboa, e Pinacoteca, S. Paulo, Mário Macilau; 2012, idem, Mauro Pinto, «Dá licença!» (premiado);  2013, Lisboa e  Instituto Tomie Ohtake, S. Paulo, Filipe Branquinho, «Showtime»; 2016, Novo Banco Photo 2016, Lisboa: Félix Mula, «Idas e Voltas».

2011 - Mauro Pinto, Influx Contemporary Gallery, «Maputo - Luanda - Lubumbashi» / Gal. Bozart, Lisboa / Gal. 111, Lisboa 2014.

2012 - Mário Macilau, Gal. Influx Contemporary, Lisboa, «Taking Place» / Gal Belo-Galsterer, Lisboa «Tempo», 2013 / Galeria Belo-Galsterer «Moments of Transition», 2014

2013 Filipe Branquinho, «Occupations, portfolio, Revue Caméra, dir. Brigitte Ollier, nº 2, Avril-Juin, Paris / Galeries Photo FNAC Montparnasse, Paris / Galeria Bozart, Lisboa / Regarde-moi, Photoquai, exp. col., Musée du Quai Branly, Paris / Jack Bell Gallery, Londres «Showtime».

2013 Present Tense, Photography from Southern Africa, exp. col. e cat. port., tx fr., ing.; org. António Pinto Ribeiro, «Próximo Futuro», Fund. Gulbenkian, Lisboa, Porto e Paris. Mauro Pinto e Filipe Branquinho («Chapa 100»)

2013 - De Maputo, José Cabral e Luís Basto, com homenagens a Moira Forjaz e Rogério. Org. Alexandre Pomar, A Pequena Galeria, Lisboa. 

2015 - Filipe Branquinho, Paisagens Interiores / Interior Lanscapes, org. Alexandra Pinho, Instituto Camões, Maputo / Gal. Av. da Índia, EGEAC, Lisboa, 2016. Exp. e Cat. / Rencontres de Bamako, Expo. Pan-Africaine «Telling Time», 2015, exp. col.
















segunda-feira, 27 de junho de 2016

Fotografia em Moçambique, história antiga

O que faz a importância excepcional da fotografia de Moçambique, se valorizarmos não a actual concorrência internacional no mercado dos festivais e instituições mas a continuidade e pluralidade criativa de várias gerações de fotógrafos? De facto, essa continuidade - pouco sustentada externamente, embora divulgada - só parece ter paralelo na fotografia da África do Sul, que obviamente está um patamar acima, porque é um imenso país com uma imensa história. Como se devem ponderar as variáveis que fazem a diferença da fotografia de Moçambique? Atravessam-na duas marcas constantes, a insistência no documentário social, renovando os seus caminhos, e a recusa (ou incapacidade) do exotismo, que ocupa muito do panorama africano e africanista.
A fotografia moderna de Moçambique começou pela década de 60 com dois fotojornalistas mestiços de longas carreiras, ambas iniciadas na imprensa colonial: Ricardo Rangel (1924, Lourenço Marques - 2009, Maputo) e Kok Nam (1939, LM - 2012, Maputo). Fica datada uma clara ruptura com o tempo anterior com a publicação do semanário ilustrado «Tempo», a partir de 20 de Setembro de 1970, onde Rangel publicava os «editoriais» fotográficos («Objectiva R.R.») e as reportagens da vida dos bairros negros, com a cumplicidade do jornalista e poeta José Craveirinha. Antes, houve alguma actividade do Núcleo de Arte e salões de amadores. E, muito mais atrás, os dez «Álbuns Fotográficos e Descritivos da Colónia de Moçambique» editados por José dos Santos Rufino (1929, impressos por Broschek & Co., Hamburgo), que continuaram sempre presentes. 

Tem de sublinhar-se a personalidade forte de Ricardo Rangel e a capacidade de se afirmar como profissional brilhante e fotógrafo insubmisso numa carreira sempre ascendente na imprensa colonial. Foi também activista do Jazz, a música dos negros que muito se cruzou com a fotografia. E certamente reconhece-se a transigência táctica do poder colonial perante o fotojornalista mestiço (de ascendência grega) e oposicionista, a favor da aparição de elites intermédias entre as veleidades dos extremistas brancos e as ambições dos nacionalistas negros, como quem divide para reinar e aposta em vários tabuleiros. Entrou como aprendiz num laboratório fotográfico, nos anos 40, tornou-se um impressor reconhecido e foi o primeiro fotojornalista "de cor" na imprensa branca - desde o «Notícias da Tarde», em 1952, no «Notícias», em 1956, e chegando a chefe em «A Tribuna», 1960-64; depois na Beira, 1964, no «Notícias da Beira» e no «Diário de Moçambique» e na revista "Voz Africana", estes dois publicações da Diocese da Beira, presidida por D. Sebastião Soares de Resende. De novo no «Notícias» 66-70 e a seguir o «Tempo», de que foi um dos fundadores. Após a independência, foi fotógrafo-chefe no «Notícias» em 1977, director do semanário «Domingo», 1981, etc. Foi também o pilar da criação em 1983, com apoio da cooperação italiana, do Centro de Formação Fotográfica (Centro de Documentação e Formação - a partir de 2001), que continuava a dirigir aos 85 anos.
A repressão política poupou-o (foi preso a distribuir panfletos nos anos 40, como conta no filme de Licínio de Azevedo «Ferro em Brasa», de 2006), e a censura nunca o silenciou, mesmo se algum do seu trabalho terá desaparecido. Depois, atravessou a revolução socialista e a guerra civil e a normalização relativa, dita social-democrata, também como figura independente e como formador de fotógrafos. Foi eleito para a Assembleia Municipal de Maputo (1998-2003) pela lista de cidadãos Juntos pela Cidade, e criticou a nova imprensa oficial em "Foto-jornalismo ou foto-confusionismo" (2002, ed. da Universidade Eduardo Mondlane), manifesto muito ilustrado contra o mau uso da fotografia e da legendagem (foto-aberrantismo, copulismo, ilogismo, ilusionismo, etc) no principal diário de Maputo, o «Notícias».) Travou sempre a mesma luta em diferentes condições políticas, com habilidade e firmeza.

Em 1994, a cooperação francesa editou um primeiro livro, «Ricardo Rangel, Photographe do Mozambique / Fotógrafo de Moçambique» (Éditions Findakly, Paris), que o mostrava como fotógrafo crítico da sociedade colonial, autor de imagens emblemáticas sobre a diferenciação racial e social, incluíndo os brancos pobres. E logo nos 1ºs Encontros de Bamako, no mesmo ano, a sua obra começou a ser divulgada com a série «Notre pain de chaque jour, les nuits de la Rue Araújo (1960)», apresentada pela «Revue Noire», que então publicava um número monográfico sobre Moçambique (nº 15, Décembre). Note-se que a «descoberta» de Moçambique acontece quando surgiam os primeiros panoramas da fotografia africana - «As (suas) fotos envelhecem como as de Doisneau ou de Strand alguns decénios mais cedo; ou seja, pouco ou nada, só o cenário é marcado pela história», escrevia Jean Loup Pivin na «Revue», em «Une nouvelle Photographie - L’ombre et le noir»).

Enwezor Okwui consagrou-o como um dos grandes fotógrafos africanos em 1996 na exposição e no livro «In/sight. African Photographers, 1940 to the Present» (Guggenheim Museum, Nova Iorque). Também aí era a longa série das fotografias dos bares e das mulheres da Rua Araújo ( "Our Nightly Bread» ), que lhe assegurava a maior notoriedade. Iniciara-a ainda nos anos 60 com a aparição das películas mais sensíveis, e continuou, com uma notória cumplicidade hedonista, até que a governo da Frelimo deteve a «última prostituta» - é essa foto que está na origem do filme «Virgem Margarida», também de Licínio de Azevedo, 2013. O álbum «Pão Nosso de Cada Noite», bilingue, só foi editado em 2005 (ed. Marimbique, Maputo, impresso em Santo Tirso). Rangel compareceu também em «The Short Century - Independence and Liberation Movements in Africa 1945-1994», organizada por Okwui Enwesor, em 2001 (Museum Villa Stuck, Munich; depois, Berlim, Chicago, Nova Iorque). Um último livro: «Ricardo Rangel, Insubmisso e Generoso», vários autores, org. Nelson Saúte, série Kulungwana, ed. Marimbique, Maputo 2014 (imp. Norprint, Santo Tirso).


É indispensável juntar a Rangel o nome de Kok Nam, outro fotojornalista notável e de carreira corajosa e muito longa. Começou a trabalhar nos anos 50 no laboratório e casa de produtos fotográficos Focus, onde já estivera Ricardo Rangel como impressor. Em 1966 passa como repórter fotográfico para o "Diário de Moçambique" - na delegação em Lourenço Marquese depois na sede na Beira. Em 1969 e 70 trabalha no "Notícias" de Lourenço Marques e no vespertino "Notícias da Tarde", sob a chefia de Rangel. Acompanhou a a criação  da revista "Tempo", onde continuou depois da independência e onde em 1990 era chefe de redacção. Foi entretanto um grande repórter das destruições e da fome ao tempo da guerra civil, também capaz de devolver a dimensão humana aos combatentes da Frelimo, forçado a manter-se na rectaguarda por precaução política, em contraposição e diálogo com o fotografo-guerrilheiro Daniel Maquinasse, que viria a morrer com Samora Machel em 1986. 
Repórter do tempo colonial e da «revolução popular», são particularmente relevantes as fotografias de grupos e os retratos, deixando um espólio imenso ainda a desbravar, de que dá conta o livro «Kok Nam. Preto no Branco», vários autores, org. Nelson Saúte, série Kulungwana, ed. Marimbique, Maputo, 2014 (imp. Norprint).
Depois da aprovação da primeira Constituição multipartidária do país, em 1990, e da Lei da Imprensa, em Agosto de 1991, fundou com outros jornalistas, vindos quase todos dos quadros da Agência de Informação de Moçambique (AIM), da revista «Tempo» e do semanário «Domingo», o primeiro orgão de comunicação independente do controlo estatal e governamental, o projecto Mediacoop (1992). Ao «MediaFax», marco na mudança pluralista da imprensa moçambicana, sucedeu o semanário «Savana» em 1994, de que foi director até à morte. 

Outras datas, outros nomes

Em 1972 Rui Knopfi (1932, Inhambane - 1997, Lisboa ) publicou um álbum de poemas e fotografias sobre a Ilha de Moçambique: «A Ilha de Próspero», Edição Minerva Central, Lourenço Marques. Era um «roteiro privado» e também patrimonial, publicação pioneira, sem continuidade.
Do mesmo ano é «Moçambique a Preto e Branco», com Rangel, Kok Nam, Rui Knopfi e outros, amadores salonistas, edição natalícia da CODAM, empresa portuária de Lourenço Marques, com organização não creditada de José Luís Cabaço, que viria a ser ministro da Informação da República Popular.
Em 1973 aconteceu a primeira exposição de Rangel, Rogério e Basil Breakey, fotógrafo de Cape Town, realizada no Núcleo de Arte (e parece que também na Beira). É o jazz que os liga e deverá ter sido Rogério a fazer Rangel passar da página impressa à parede. Expõem de novo em 1975, na Casa Amarela, com mais nomes: Rangel, Kok Nam, B. Breakey, Peter Sinclair e outros (sic - Informação do catálogo de Rogério, F. Gulbenkian, 1981.

Rogério ou Rogério Pereira (1942, Lisboa - 1987, Setúbal) é uma figura mais meteórica, um artista inconformado e informado, que terá sido especialmente influente graças à circulação pela África do Sul. Fez a transição do tempo colonial para o pós-independência, foi professor de fotografia durante dois anos em Maputo, mas regressou a Portugal em 1979, inadaptado em todos os regimes.

Fotografou desde 1966, em Lourenço Marques, trabalhou no «Sunday Times» de Johannesburg, em 1968; teve colaboração publicada na revista «Drum» (1969, 1973). Participou em exposições colectivas em Johannesburg e Cape Town desde 1969 (refere "Images of Man", promovida pelo "International Fund for Concerned Photography"). São informações extraídas do catálogo de uma mostra desgarrada (descontextualizada) que realizou na Fundação Gulbenkian. («Momentos», 1981), mal recebida por António Sena mas saudada na revista «Nova Imagem» de Pedro Foyos (importante portfolio no nº 1, Julho de 1980, com entrevista de Victor Dimas, «‘O fotografo tem de estar dentro da razão’»). Estava-se diante de um fotógrafo radical, revoltado, com imagens de uma grande veemência crítica, indisciplinadas, sintonizadas com rupturas dos anos 60/70. Fotografias vibrantes, duras, «tremidas», sub-expostas, inquietas.

O espólio regressou a Maputo e é conservado pela sua família africana. Em 1990 foi-lhe dedicada uma retrospectiva em duas partes na Associação Moçambicana de Fotografia, com a colaboração de Rangel, Kok Nam e José Pinto de Sá, que escreveu o texto do catálogo. Em 2002, a 1ª edição do PhotoFesta, Encontros Internacionais de Fotografia de Maputo, dedicou-lhe uma exposição antológica com o título “Verdade”. Em 2013 n’A Pequena Galeria recordei-o com duas magníficas fotos esquecidas na Colecção Gulbenkian numa mostra de grupo («De Maputo», com José Cabral e Luís Basto, também com Moira Forjaz).

Bem relacionado com jornalistas-escritores como Luís Bernardo Honwana e Craveirinha, e em geral com o meio das artes, Pancho Guedes (Amâncio de Alpoim Miranda Guedes, 1925, Lisboa - 2015, África do Sul), formado em Joanesburgo, fez desde o início dos anos 60, pelo menos, um uso funcional e eficaz da fotografia, sem que a tenha valorizada como objecto de arte e exposição. Arquitecto, pintor e escultor, fotografou sempre muito, e tudo, coligindo retratos e informação documental; é relevante a sua presença fotográfica impressa, com o respectivo design gráfico: manifesto “A cidade doente, várias receitas para a curar. O mal do caniço e o manual do vogal sem mestre”, dupla página em «A Tribuna», 9-6-1963; artigos ilustrados em «Aujourd’hui: Art et Architecture», nº 37, 1962, Paris, sobre os «Mapogga» (agora, Ndebele), e «Architecture d’Aujourd’hui», 1962, Juin-Juillet, sobre a sua arquitectura. Moira Forjaz frequentara a casa-atelier da rua de Nevala desde 1961, ao tempo das pontes estabelecidas com o Ibadam Club e a revista «Black Orpheus», de Ulli Beier, na Nigéria.
Viria a ser descoberto como fotógrafo, nas suas mais tardias fotografias de viagem, a partir da África do Sul e de Lisboa, em «Pancho Guedes nunca foi ao Japão», edição de José Luís Tavares, Lucio Magri e João Faria, ESAD, Matosinhos, 2015.


À margem desta narrativa ficou José Henriques da Silva (1919, Lisboa - 1983, Lisboa; em Nampula desde 1956). Engenheiro civil, fotógrafo activo entre 1957 e 1973, com um uso caloroso e intimista (relacional - fez em especial retratos) das imagens, junto das populações negras locais, mas sem expressão pública. Viu-se no Ar.Co, em 1983, uma selecção organizada por Joana Pereira Leite, a que se seguiu em 1998 a edição de «Pescadores Macua. Moçambique, Baía de Nacala 1957-1973», com impressões de Michel Waldmann e grafismo de Victor Palla. Ed. Câmara Municipal de Lisboa e Comissão dos Descobrimentos, Lisboa. Com exposição no Arquivo Fotográfico de Lisboa, e também em Moçambique.