FILIPE BRANQUINHO. MAPUTO'S LIFE
by Elisa Dainelli
Using photography, you are able to break down the stereotype of a rural Africa and show a postcolonial reality; a contemporary African city and how people are proud of their conquests and their space but also adjusting to it



© Filipe Branquinho, D-I, from the series 'Showtime', Maputo, 2013

Could you tell us a bit about your approach to the medium? What motivated you to start with photography, and how did it evolve through your practice?

Filipe Branquinho (FB): I grew up in an environment surrounded by photographers, journalists, writers, artists, architects, etc... Photography was always present in my childhood. It was the period after the independence of Mozambique when photography was one of the most important types of media to observe, learn, record, and share what an independent Mozambique was. It was a time to document and rewrite the history of the country. Samora Machel, the President of Mozambique, was very charismatic and self-aware. He was passionate and supportive of photography and a close friend of many photographers. Some of them, like Ricardo Rangel, Maquinasse, and Kok Nam, worked directly with him in his many travels around Mozambique and over the world.

The propaganda machinery of FRELIMO (the ruling socialist party) operated through the Ministry of Information was very aware of the power of the image. The party invested a significant amount of resources to create an infrastructure that helped to develop and promote the use of photography and cinematography. The established community of photographers, led by Ricardo Rangel, one of the most prominent names, and the Government did this work. President Samora Machel and Ricardo Rangel joined forces to build something they both believed in. Their effort had the support of International development and cooperation agencies such as the Italian cooperation. It resulted in the creation of the Photography Training Centre (CFF) and the Mozambican Photography Association (AMF). These places played a major role in training, showcasing/exposing, and archiving the works of upcoming and established photographers. Many foreign photographers were invited to give workshops, train, and exchange experiences and such activities created the spaces for encounters and exchange that defined the path of ̈Mozambican photography ̈ for ensuing decades. It was a magical period replete with hope. I would dare to say that photography was the most efficient medium of communication in an independent Mozambique with a largely undereducated population. The CFF and AMF are still operating but with less impact and enthusiasm. The CFF is a beautiful facility with a very organized archive, and the AMF is an amazing exhibition space, very well located.

This long introduction is relevant to understanding my fascination and natural approach to the medium. This was the atmosphere in which I was born in 1977, just two years after independence. You can say the path I took was almost inevitable I had access to exhibitions, newspapers, magazines, intense conversations and discussions, cameras, films, papers, darkrooms, etc... These were fascinating times. As a child, of course, I was totally unaware of the scope of the reality in which I lived. However, this idea of documenting and using photography as a tool to tell a story and create a narrative to understand and record the dynamics and dynamism of places and their population was firmly fixed in my mind and would later influence my approach to the medium.


© Filipe Branquinho, D VI, from the series 'Showtime', Maputo, 2013

In the beginning, we can be fascinated by the technique, the camera as an object, the composition, the light, and colors, and all the possibilities. As a young photographer, a sunset might fulfill all your expectations and desires. However, you notice that you are evolving when the technique is proper and helps, but you realize that it is just a medium to achieve something more significant. When it is no longer about the camera or the megapixels in the same way, a vast vocabulary, a pen, or a typewriter will not make a writer. When the camera becomes an extension of your body. When you can photograph in a blink of an eye, and you are not a hostage of the camera, the technique serves a purpose. You can intuitively adjust parameters and let your eyes, mind, and heart guide you through the process of capturing a moment. You have to be there, all of you. I am not saying that technique is less important. It takes a lot of study and practice to become intuitive. Personally, I have a touch of OCD, and when I‘m looking for new equipment, I spend hours researching, and as soon as I buy it, I like to spend time reading the manuals.

I always try to build a body of work, as sometimes a single photo might not make any sense by itself, but among others, it is an important part of building a narrative. I have always tried to document Mozambique's short stories. Each story is different from the other, but together they might paint a scenario of Mozambique in a specific time, an impression of the way of life in urban and rural places. I focus on social, economic, and political issues. I try to give some dignity to the people I portray while at the same time denouncing the harsh reality. I like to photograph for a future audience. For me, documentary photography makes more sense with the passage of time, as you take a backward glance and reflect.

Looking at an old photograph allows us to revisit a moment in history without all the prejudice, emotional and physical pressure attached to the time the photo was taken.

Your works are mostly on Maputo's vibrant life, the main city of Mozambique. In three of your projects, this life is represented by portraits (Occupations, Showtime, Vila Algarve). You perfectly compose the images and the relationship between the picture's subject and the environment. What are your inspirations? 

FB: I studied architecture in Mozambique and Brazil, and worked for a few years in the atelier of the architect José Forjaz who has an important role as a friend and mentor in my life. He always supported my interest in photography; he gave me my first film camera, a point and shoot Olympus, lent me many books and allowed me to photograph many studio projects. We always have enriching discussions about many subjects. These conversations move between topics showing the connections between different disciplines, a more open, fluid, and critical view of the world.


© Filipe Branquinho, Quarto Escuro (Dark room), from the series 'Vila Algarve', Maputo, 2013

The city and the buildings in the background, the obsessive attention to the composition, the straight lines, the textures and colors of the materials, the furniture, and all details come obviously from my many years of studying and working in Architecture. This greatly influences how I look at spaces and how I record them, as well as how I position people or objects. It is like using in photography the exact graphic representation used in architecture. As my friend José Pinto de Sá wrote -“... environmental portraits... ̈.


© Filipe Branquinho, Cine teatro África, plateia (Cine theater Africa, audience), from the series 'Interior Landscapes', Maputo, 2011

For me, the people I portrayed are as important as the urban or rural background. I am interested in their relationship, how they interact, and how the city is occupied. This interconnection allows me to build a memory of the place in a specific time. If you record empty spaces with no other reference, placing them at a specific time is difficult. For example, I did this on purpose in my series Interior landscapes I “removed” the people from the spaces. Here it is quite difficult to specify when the photos were taken; you get a sensation of a space that lives between times and transcends time.

© Filipe Barnquinho, António-Muianga, Barbeiro (Barber), from the series 'Occupations', Maputo, 2011

Interiores Landscapes is a project on abandoned places in Maputo. I saw there an aesthetic reference to an Italian photographer called Luigi Ghirri. In his pictures, concepts of passage, threshold, and wait are crucial to understanding his artistic language. Do you feel some similarities between these concepts and your projects?

FB: These places are not abandoned; they are all still in use. The fact that you mentioned abandoned is interesting because somehow it highlights my intention to photograph places that live between times, like the storage or archive of a museum that was not organized, everything is there accumulated, layers and layers of history. So I completely see the similarities between my work and the concepts of passage, threshold, and wait. It is interesting that if I had photographed the same places as I did between 2011 and 2015, but being used or occupied by their habitual customers, it would be clear that these are spaces in a postcolonial city occupied by the local population. As soon as you remove the people, you get the idea of abandoned places of colonial heritage.


© Filipe Branquinho, Museu de História Natural, taxidermia (Natural History Museum, taxidermy), from the series 'Interior Landscapes', Maputo, 2014

Gurué project is the starting point for a shift from city life to nature. The arrival is the project Bestiarium, where you abandon the narrative language to compose poetry on something unconscious and archaic. Why such a change?

FB: The projects Occupations, Showtime, Villa Algarve, Interior Landscapes, and Chapa 100 were done during the same period, between 2010 and 2014. It was an amazing period; I was walking everyday through the city, learning about Maputo, the city I thought I knew very well, the city where I was born and where I grew up. It was an intense time.


© Filipe Barnquinho, Rádio Moçambique, discoteca (Radio Mozambique, discotheque), from the series 'Interior Landscapes', Maputo, 2014

For a shy and introverted person, it was very energy consuming and as a photographer, I felt I was getting sucked and stuck in the city routine that was becoming repetitive. Gurué was a getaway, a place to reconnect with nature and avoid the rigid grid of the city, all the parallel and perpendicular lines. An attempt to reset and refresh my perspective and to rest.

Gurué taught me one of the most important lessons I carry until today: when I am working on a new project, no matter the plans or expectations you may have, the place has its own plans. Therefore, you always have to be mindful and open to whatever you may find. In the case of Gurué, I was expecting this empty village with just a few people walking around, very quiet and passive, but Gurué- like many cities in Mozambique- was a place of the massive migration of people running away from the war or looking for work. It had a different dynamic from what I had expected, but it was still the perfect choice and a beautiful and changing experience.

© Filipe Branquinho, Cine Gurué, Filipe Nyusi em cartaz (Filipe Nyussi on poster), from the series 'Gurué', Gurué, 2014 

Gurué is at the same time a transitional project as well as the establishment or acceptance of a photographic style. I could say it is a looser project because I use different styles and cameras and have a more open narrative, portraying a place through its different aspects. Gurué has elements of many of my previous projects. Every new project I start has references to my previous ones. 

Bestiarium is an ongoing project on a "new Eden," as Antònio Cabrita says, "Where the relationship between man and nature represented as a metamorphosis similar to the Ovidians." How does this project relate to contemporary issues? Can you tell us something more about it? Somehow, this metamorphosis is in the acceptance that allows a change for a “new Eden.” A sustainable place of equals?

FB: I think Bestiarium is a critique of various human and environmental injustices and all the harm we commit to each other and nature; it can relate to class, race, sex, gender, environment, etc... At first sight, my work Bestiarium may appear to be an unconscious approach, a bit different from the previous series, but like the other projects, it tries to build a social, economic, and political critique focused on human behavior and the corruption of man. Representing a human as a beast or a beast as a human is like turning ourselves inside out. It is an overflow of thoughts, sentiments, and emotions. It is the image of a selfish and self-centered brain. It shows what we look like without the clothes and all the fancy artifacts we hide behind, when our true self and actions turn out unfair and violent, with devastating effects. It represents the animal we are, but from what we always try to distance ourselves. It is a shortcut, a direct highway between where we came from and how we are placed in the world today. How can we cause so much pain to each other? How can we be ostentatious in a world of such economic injustice? How we are much closer to our primitive predatory instincts than to the ideals we proudly share and promote. I do not see Bestiarium as a negative point of view on humankind; it is more of a reflection on a state of hypocrisy and denial. We do not deny the positive about us when we are photographed; we always want to show the photogenic side of our face, hiding the other half that is equally ours. It is exhausting. We are afraid of the mirror, to confront ourselves and accept what we do not like and would like to change. Accepting it is the beginning of change. It seems there is a lack of (self)-compassion, kindness, and honest interest in the other. As if we suffer from a loneliness disease and try to cure ourselves using the wrong medicine.


© Filipe Branquinho, Beastia XI, from the series 'Bestiarium', Ponta do Ouro, 2021


© Filipe Branquinho, Terra-bestiarium I, from the series 'Bestiarium', Chimanimani, 2020


© Filipe Branquinho, Beastia XVII, from the series 'Bestiarium', Ponta do Ouro, 2021

In your works, there is always a subtle reference to Mozambique's history and colonization. Do you think that photography has a political role in documenting it?

FB: As I mentioned before, photography in Mozambique after the independence had a political agenda. The photographers were at the service of the Information Ministry, they were photographing commissioned stories and points of view that benefited the party politically and fed the image they wanted to project of this independent territory. They were rewriting history from a perspective that served their interests. Censorship was very common.

I am part of a new generation of photographers who documents personal views detached from any institution but also with a political role. When you document the socio-economic reality of a country, you are also making a political statement. While praising some aspects, you denounce others. You may show a proud population living in a decolonized city, but you can also see the struggles this population has to deal with. You can see the damaged infrastructures resulting from bad and suspicious management of public funds.


© Filipe Branquinho, Chapa 100 I, from the series 'Chapa 100', Maputo, 2013


© Filipe Branquinho, Chapa 100 II, from the series 'Chapa 100', Maputo, 2013


© Filipe Branquinho, Chapa 100 III, from the series 'Chapa 100', Maputo, 2013

It is quite challenging to document Mozambique in all its beauty without denouncing corruption. It is always present. It is important to remind that documenting always brings a personal point of view. The moment I frame an instant, I am somehow rewriting it. It is always about what stayed out of the frame. This means that it is always a personal political opinion. I record what I want to highlight. The good thing about documentary photography is that it can be looked back on repeatedly, and opinions will change with time.

Are there any other elements of postcolonialism that you would like to elaborate on with a photographic/artistic project or wish to tackle with your research?

FB: What fascinates me the most about documenting Mozambique is the capital. The fact that Maputo is a city in a moment of transition. Forty-five years of independence is a lot of time to make changes but not enough to rebuild a society. You have the first and second generation of Mozambicans that were born in the city, their parents and grandparents weren’t allowed to live in the city, so after the independence, when people moved to the city and started to occupy the buildings, somehow, it was not “their” city.


© Filipe Branquinho, Cadeira tricolor (Tricolor chair), from the series, 'Manufracture', Maputo, 2019


© Filipe Branquinho, Quioske sobre rodas (Kiosk on wheels), from the series 'Manufracture', Maputo, 2019

People did not recognize it as their city; it was the city of the white people. Therefore, you can photograph a society adjusting and recording how this transition happens, how the city changed, and how the generations “mutated.” Using photography, you are able to break down the stereotype of rural Africa and show a postcolonial reality; a contemporary African city and how people are proud of their conquests and their space but also adjusting to it. How some architectural and cultural heritages are overcome and readjusted. I would like to keep doing this photographic survey and record this specific moment of transition. Well, we always live in a moment of transition.

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Filipe Branquinho (AKKA Project)
Filipe Branquinho (Magnin-A Galerie)


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