Exhibition at the Municipal Culture Center in Ponta Delgada, São Miguel, Azores, in September 2019.

Each photograph is the result of the joining of 25 images of sky, made in “Time Frame” and arranged sequentially in a grid of 5x5 images.
All photographs share the same images that were captured on May 14, 2019, between 20.01.44h and 20.18.53h and are reorganised in each final print in order to propose different forms and readings.
The horizon line is absent as a physical representation. This is only suggested, through the imaginary space proposed by the organisation of the photographs that, although they are not horizon, reconstruct it suggesting its existence, as well as through the name of the exhibition that returns what the images deny to represent.
This is also a space for exploring the photographic language.
The photographs approximate the language of the film, by introducing the dimension of time in its structure. It is the system of capture that removes them from their origin as a photographic language, approaching the moving image, but they are returned back to their bidimentional space when they come together to create an illusion of a represented object, the essence of the photographic image.

In a world where each image screams for attention, here they survive only in their dependence, giving up their individual identity.









"Cinema was born when the still clouds in the photographs began to move."

Ramón Gómez de La Serna, in “Greguerías”, translation by Jorge Silva Melo, Assírio & Alvim editions.

Horizon. The mystery thickens, it is believed.
It is a perspective, a look ahead, a spark of a future mirror.
Wrapped in clouds, there is almost no breathing. We gradually express this humidity around us. The fixed, immobile time, of the one who bends the tides, does not get tired of this wandering gaze.
This is the horizon that is announced, that floats with the landscape, moving away in the light, becoming a symbol, illusion, evasion, root of transformation.
Here a compromise is established with the vision that skids, a reverie that navigates like a mirror, a picture that is intended to be grasped and that therefore escapes us.
We are, therefore, a detachment in backlight, a mirage of propellers breaking clouds in the landscape, fugitive ships in mutation, birds that dissipate in the panorama.
The horizon gives us back a projection, an absent reverberation.
An embryo cinema idea.

Fernando Nunes 2019



"O cinema nasceu quando as nuvens paradas das fotografias se puseram a mexer."
Ramón Gómez de La Serna, in “Greguerías”, tradução de Jorge Silva Melo, edições Assírio&Alvim.

Horizonte. O mistério adensa-se, crê-se.
É uma perspectiva, um olhar adiante, centelha de espelho futuro.
Envoltos em nuvens, quase não há respiração. Exprimimos gradualmente esta humidade em redor. O tempo fixo, imóvel, daquele que encorpa as marés, não se cansa deste despistado olhar ao largo.
Este é o horizonte que se anuncia, que flutua ao sabor da paisagem, afastando-se na luz, tornando-se símbolo, ilusão, evasão, raiz de transformação.
Aqui estabelece-se um compromisso com a visão que derrapa, um devaneio que navega como espelho, um quadro que se pretende agarrar e que por isso nos escapa.
Somos, portanto, um desapego em contraluz, miragem de hélices desfazendo nuvens na paisagem, navios fugidios em mutação, aves que se dissipam pelo panorama.
O horizonte devolve-nos uma projecção, uma reverberação ausente.
Uma ideia de cinema em embrião.

Fernando Nunes 2019