Tuesday, November 28, 2006




Universidade Nova de Lisboa - FCSH
Artur Andrês

On The Road,

As a singular and so necessary homage to the mother Gaia and as a most due tribute to all the beautiful places scattered on the surface of the planet that I will never visit, I must choose this picture as a symbol which will stand for them all. A symbol that will stand for the magic word “traveling” itself.

Traveling so quietly along the river as done in this particular picture embraces so many meanings and possibilities that I can hardly talk properly about a single one…

Crossing, even such a quiet and apparently calm river, could be the deed of a lifetime. The colours of the picture, the wide-open view of the river and the little and fragile canoe are just pieces of worlds we can see through infinite opened doors, a challenge to the most fertile imagination.

This picture may bring peace to the restless mind and it may also bring the slow beating of the waters of the river to our hearts, turning our eyes heavy and sleepy. It is like an opened window from which we can take a look to fantasy and to reality as well, a bridge to all kinds of riversides.

The river is a concrete boundary to different regions of space. It may be the line that divides past from future or, much more than just that, a line full of life, a surface that keeps the present floating as a living reality, full of movement. It may be the water that will never pass through the same place - the continuum that never remains the same except in the memory of things.

For the time being, it just brings to my mind memories from the very first time I read “Siddhartha”, the novel from Hermann Hesse.

I do not really know what will bring to your mind…

14 November 2006

1 comment:

AR said...

Artur
This image is perfect, absolutely perfect for Herman Hesse. The metaphores are many, the image of 'on the road' is sublime. It captures the senerity, the passage of time and place, the flow of west to east - something we need to be aware of.

The strength of the colour red implies a searching for roots, a searching for something from which to depart.

Allyson