Today Is A Long Time
Title: Today Is A Long Time
Author: Arlindo Pinto
Graphic design and concept: Fábio Miguel Roque
Foreword: Susana Paiva
Closing Text: Arlindo Pinto
Translation: Linda Formiga
Edited by: The Unknown Books
21 x 21 cm
Edition: 50 copies, signed
HP Indigo Print
Cover Paper: Gardapat Kiara 300 gsm
Inside Paper: Gardapat Kiara 150 gsm
Price: €23 + shipping
Dear Grandparents (I write you from where love resides)
“The act of watching and seeing is not only seeing the visible but the invisible.
In a certain way is what we call imagination.”
I am firmly convicted that a house where affection has lived will never be empty. It is this sentimental echo, this distant presence, that I still hear in the images with which Arlindo Pinto composes this posthumous love letter to his grandparents, on this “Today is a long time”.
I try not to succumb to the temptation to invoke each image, each of these spaces apparently abandoned, as witnesses of a certain rural Portugal, as memories of a happy childhood the author has lived. Easy, too easy, would be to broaden the message of Wonderfulness with which the happy infant remembers his past, plenty of adventures and serenity when we did not know its real value.
It would not be enough to anchor this speech on a glorious and longed time, forgetting that today, in this lookout point that is the present, the acute comprehension is the most important fact on how structuring love can be, how it moulds us and turns us into humans.
To associate this imagetic revisitation with a story of affection, with a universe of what is apparently invisible or not so evident, it is exactly one of the paradoxical virtues in photography, or at least part of the enigma – this hypothetical translation of the invisible into retinal imagery, visible to the eyes of everyone who wishes to interpret them. Therefore, it would be surprising that the place where the dust of time is represented, I would potentially read the story that got grandparents and grandson together around being.
This plentiful book, now ready to be delightfully enjoyed, is a poetic story of immortality and humanity. A shared secret whisper about the many forms death touches and sculpts us. “But, look:” – Gonçalo M. Tavares reminds – “the past cannot be touched. Try to touch in something that has happened yesterday or six centuries ago. The past is untouchable, is immortal.
As it has ended, it does not end. How strange, you would say.”