For seven years I’ve been documenting the bay of Santos from the window of my apartment in Porchat Island, on the southern coast of São Paulo state. It is a work marked by impermanence, inspired by the sense of loss – by people who went in and out of my life. I find that very transience in the coming and going of cargo ships and their crew. In 2015 more than 5,000 ships and around 125,000 men and women docked, landed and took part in the city’s routine for a few hours – or at most for a couple of days –, and were never to return.
Just like its crew, the vessels in this body of work are anonymous characters seen in the distance, mere extras. The protagonists here are the sky and the sea, the architects of a changing landscape. The horizon line does not divide the frame in symmetrical plans; it moves up and down, like the tides, favoring sometimes the sea, other times the sky – a dispute won by the plan presenting the most dramatic visual elements.
From my window, I witness the daily departures and arrivals and by documenting this discontinuity I can deal with my inner movement.