I went to Alvito to work on a photographic archive from the early 20th century, a collection of images I thought were depictions of my family, for they belonged to Professor Luís Cabanas, with whom I share both surname and ancestry. These stereoscopic photos, however, had once been property of Francisco Manuel Fialho, and were offered to the Professor due to his well known devotion to Photography.
Word was that  Francisco Manuel Fialho was a farmer who had once studied engineering: an intelectual, an educated man who had travelled Europe, an unsual man in Alentejo, to all accounts. He was never married, had no children, and in his late years, ultimately, felt very lonely, never sure if whoever come close did it from true affection or an ulterior motive. He passed away in the 1960s, at 99, leaving no heirs, and his belongings were scattered around. Among other interests, he shared a great passion for photography, a medium which, at the time, was not accessible to most, and could only be mastered through knowledge and dedication. I was first interested in the quality and historic value of these images, but then I got caught up in this narrative and its emptiness: an abstract image opening up like a mirror, leaving enough room for imagination to be reflected.