Carlos Barradas
Carlos Barradas

Carlos Barradas (b. 1978, Portugal) is a photographer with a PhD in anthropology and a Master in Contemporary Photography from the European Design Institute in Madrid.

In his work, Barradas engages with ambiguity. He positions his photographs in a liminal state, an anthropological concept that refers to an intermediate phase or condition in a given rite of passage, positioning his images as spaces where viewers can deposit their own narratives.

How did photography become a part of your life?

I have a cousin who is the local town photographer, in Elvas, a small town on the border with Spain. And ever since I was a little boy until my adulthood, he offered me cameras that would be more advanced, according to my age. From small plastic cameras, to old 35mm Zenit and Olympus cameras up until medium format (Pentax), he always provided me with the possibility to enjoy different experiences when photographing, even though, of course, at my early age I wasn’t fully aware of it.

However, and this is what’s interesting about my relation with photography, is that as soon as I had my own camera (whichever it was) I always made photographs. Then, of course, you come to a point in life where your artistic expression starts maturing. I guess this happens both as a consequence of the process of living as well as acquired formal or informal knowledge, hence questioning your own practice, your needs and the ways to provide some feedback to it.

I think my artistic journey is quite connected with the many situations, encounters and jobs I had throughout my life, which have helped me, sometimes actively, sometimes not so much, define and shape this journey.

Above all, having worked as a photojournalist, event photographer and anthropologist, alongside my permanent will to learn and curiosity for people and the structures they (and us) fall into, have helped me define who I am as an individual and inevitably as an artist. Today I am fortunate enough to share my work with different publics and in different places, and I love that.

Where do Carlos the anthropologist and Carlos the photographer intersect, and where do they diverge?

That is a very tough question, which is the one I’ve been trying to answer for quite some time. I guess that even though they apparently sit in the opposite sites of the room which is my head, ultimately both of them are part of the same process. I have always considered my anthropological side the most rational one, the scientific. I have worked in many different research projects, dealing with visual anthropology, medical anthropology, social studies of medicine and health among other areas. With it, I learned to grasp, cope and have an empathic knowledge and understanding of different realities or, at least, become aware of the tension between the individuals, their choices, and social and cultural milieus.

The results of which were almost exclusively in textual format, such as in articles, books, or my MSc and PhD thesis. And what became interesting to me, is that even before being particularly serious about my artistic trajectory, I had already written quite a lot about photography in my academic life, mainly in the area of visual anthropology and sociology of culture. But again, these were essays regarding the uses of photography, either contemporary or from archive, particularly during the Portuguese Colonial period.

So during that time, except for loose images, I didn’t really make photographic projects, or thought about doing a photographic work from beginning to end. But that’s the twist of it. It’s that when I looked at my images, I noticed that photography always allowed me to think in more magical terms, creating new realities, detaching things or individuals from their place and time, and put them in new and unexpected situations. With it I never really had the need to explain or describe too much, but rather let the photographs show themselves. I decide what are the contexts and universe I’ll be showing the viewer, wether more or less explanatory, more or less enigmatic.

I usually say I like to position my photographs in a liminar state, regarding them as a sort of repository, in which people will then deposit their own stories, interpretations, strengths and doubts. And I think that’s the value of both of my fields, let’s say.
Even though a perfect balance between them is hard to achieve, I believe once I get my work to reach that point, well balanced between the anthropological thought and method, with my gut feeling and emotional side, it becomes an incredible rich site of meaning and thought. A friend once described my work as magical documentalism, which I enjoyed quite a lot, as it is grounded in both of these worlds and synthesises them.

What inspires you the most? We understand that writing also plays an important role in your life—could you tell us more about it?

I’d say my interest is drawn mainly to two things: on the one hand, I love situations, places, objects or people that lead to some sort of emotion, that weird and eerie feeling of “hummm, there’s something going on in here” such as in the case of "Ferry Tales". And then I explore that feeling, chase it. I am particularly interested in the complexity and heterogeneity of what we conceive as a reality. I want to know why is that happening and what are the reasons underlying it. We could say that somehow I do a cartography of emotions, within a specific context, which will be then visually manifested.. Furthermore, to be completely honest, I love to know more about people. I am always on the lookout for particular thoughts, events, curiosities, anecdotes, because they reveal so much of what we are and how we react, both individually as collectively, throughout our many identities. I love to use a sentence in my practice that is attributed to Margaret Mead (even though a citation for it can't be found), one of the great anthropologists, who said "What people say, what people do, and what they say they do are entirely different things”. It translates quite well the complexities, the depth and the contradictions within each one of us, and I want people to take me with them whenever they feel like revealing themselves.

On the other hand, I love to work in projects that have a social, cultural and political relevance, particularly given the historical moment that we’re going through. That was actually my practice during my years as an academic, but I never really fully engaged with image-making within those projects as I was not really sure on how to successfully do it. And so text was the only way I addressed those issues. But in my two most recent projects, "Alima b'ê dê, Naviyu b'ê dê" and "Fumo Doce /Sweet Smoke”, I think I have crafted it quite well, merging a bit more photography and text, always being particularly careful in searching for that delicate balance, an extremely thin line. The one thing I want to avoid is for each of them to cast some shadow over the other and, in that sense, remove their importance. Images and words together can exponentiate a work or they can completely destroy it, and to get to there is quite a difficult task.

So writing has always been a part of my life, and I have been bringing it more and more into my work, both through the aforementioned projects, but also in “The visible is seen until the end”, “A Incomplete para além do fim” or “An Insufficient Response”. In this last case, it is my first attempt on fictional writing, mixing autobiographical thoughts with notes and ideas from fieldwork and, as I mentioned previously, the process of life.

Our top selection of Carlos' works

Ferry Tales
Ferry Tales
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N/T
An Insufficient Response
An Insufficient Response
Ferry Tales
Ferry Tales