fala

Portuguese architecture became irrelevant.

A continuous and monotonous production, without any concern or pursue for critical and disciplinary positions, couldn’t result in anything else. Suffering an increasing measure of jet lag to the state of the art, and beyond a short list of exceptions proving a rule, any ‘middle class’ is shallow and fragile.

In land, tendentially, one finds the same names, in the same places, with the same discourses. Be it in practice, academia, institutions, or exhibitions, a closed and musty circuit, without original ideas. An incestuous conversation, based on the premise that the repeated echo might eventually turn into something more. The taught and built results are, for the most part, embarrassing.

At the same time, an evident lack of awareness and critical sense. Seen from abroad, Portugal is rural; within its borders, it continuously celebrates an illusion of democratic grandeur that is long gone. The absence of serious platforms, with quality and regularity (where are the critics? and the publications? and the audience to read them?) ends up delegating behind closed doors the role of shaping the architecture we receive to municipal architects, small-scale politicians, and developers. The results of public competitions and the endless xeroxed proto-modern semi-detached houses in the suburbs sadly illustrate the condition.

Occasionally, opportunists emerge: sometimes social and inclusive, other times concerned with the territory and the dwindling water supply. Sometimes, with pompous superficial publications about the climate, other times, in five-star hotels talking about heritage. Once again, the sense of vicarious embarrassment is unavoidable.

Lastly, it is difficult to understand how those who spent decades shaping this reality can still find themselves in a position to take defining political decisions for the practices that are now (directed or pointing) towards a different future. The urgent renewal of academia is protected by the static nature of careerism, the absence of any international guest professors, and periodically by nepotism. The state, — in municipalities, entities, and institutions, — finds comfort in perpetuating this ‘normality’, without accountability, without deadlines, without a face or direct phone number. With the technical and disciplinary revolution underway — from the economy of means to BIM, from the precariousness of the profession to the ecology of construction — who will watch the watchmen?

This book is not about the irrelevance of the Portuguese scene. This book is also not against that scene. In fact, this book is not against anything. If this text addresses such an arid context, it is because it feels the need to excuse this book from for belonging to it.

This book is in favour of something, propositional and insistent. This book is built upon an idea of generational renewal and, by critically choosing who and what to show and to neglect, it takes a stand and portrays, in a rhizomatic form, an alternative to a beige and soulless reality. This book presents a collection of images and reflections, but it is also a manifesto of a tangible and rich fiction, loaded with saturated intentions. This book is important because the works it presents, and the positions they stand for, are important.

Starting from a fragmented set of works, this is a book about architecture, thoughtful, composed only of photos by a single photographer and critiques from various distant voices. This is a book about good architecture, even if achieved in a context that is not.