CURRENT EXHIBITION

CURRENT EXHIBITION

Álvaro Siza Vieira:

THINKING THROUGH DRAWING

opening 08.05.2025

aura space, Braga, PT

Thinking Through Drawing brings together Álvaro Siza Vieira’s recent sketches, drawings, and research—spanning architectural plans from Braga to Croatia, design studies, and figurative explorations. In times dominated by digital interfaces, this exhibition invites us to reconsider the irreplaceable thought process, ideas and intimacy of the hand-drawn line that emerge. 

Rather than presenting a traditional curatorial text, through the following interview we center the architect’s own voice. Through a series of dialogues, Siza reflects on how drawing as an action functions as —a space where intuition, memory, knowledge and precision collide. Here, drawings are not preparation or study work but acts of thinking in its raw form made visible. We invite you to the architect’s process as it unfolds, —and to consider what might be lost if we abandon analog ways of seeing.


LUCIJA ŠUTEJ: You have said drawing is where ‘discipline and intuition meet.’ 

ALVARO SIZA VIEIRA: From these elements emerges the challenging thought that leaps to the image of what we are creating, and how it relates to this sea of information: the client’s personality, the program, and the site. Only then comes the concept. The hardest part is the blank page.

My approach is fairly general, I think. I begin with the first possible response to these elements—an initial reaction, even with limited information. Clarity comes gradually, through dialogue—when it is possible. Dialogue is essential. As things become sharper and deeper, we refine the idea more precisely. But at the start, it is always simply a response to those first three contact points. Mainly at the beginning of a project is your reaction. It is not enough. 

The beginning is crucial -we propose a space, a volume, and its relationship to its surroundings, based on the little—but sufficient—information we have. Sometimes the immediate context matters; other times, something more distant influences the design. In New York, for example, the cityscape is always shifting. Buildings rise like plants in a forest. Fixating only on the neighbor is pointless—unlike in a historic city, where the rhythm of architecture (Renaissance, Baroque, etc.) is everything. It is interesting to consider the height of adjacent buildings and their materials… they create contrast or harmony. It depends on the nature of the problem and how the problem itself evolves. New insights emerge, and we grow more aware of needs. We begin with possibilities and are concurrently critiquing our ideas, talking with the client, and listening to the feedback. Through this process, we might arrive at something entirely different- a product of variations, experimentation, and dialogue. 

It is important to remember- you work for everybody. The work should be useful and good - important for everyone in the town, not only for the owner. So there must be a convergence of understanding of the milieu when you are working - what tendencies are implicit in that work? So the more you have different reactions, the more you can get a complete answer to the problem. Here the sketch is so important. We cannot wait for an image—the sketch comes in seconds, it is very quick. It is a useful tool for how we work (the studio) and sometimes we make drawings of landscapes that we fix much more solidly than if we make a photo. 

Naturally, a photograph is very quick but only through sketch can you make an effort to understand and react. A sketch is an effort - of fixing and seeking. It's a rich experience of learning.  

LŠ: You mentioned drawing as self-criticism. Were there early mentors who taught you this?

ASV: For me, it began with an uncle. At five or six years old, he put me on his lap to draw. At the start, he gave me poor quality paper and then gradually better paper; same with crayons, first worse quality, then better ones. He was a terrible draftsman himself—his horse looked like another animal! (laugh) But he was a great pedagogue- because he influenced me to never lose interest in drawing.

Later, in architecture school, I wanted to study sculpture. But my family refused—they thought sculptors were bohemians who earned nothing. So, I chose architecture, where I had excellent professors during a moment of educational reorganization. They believed in and were very supportive of my intervention and wish for modernity. I always liked architecture, and it did not change.

LŠ: Having worked around the globe, have you noticed different cultures' approaches to understanding architectural drawing and sketching?

ASV: The base is the same, but it is interesting how history and landscape change things. The basis of evolution in art in general comes from this relationship. Today, with the advancement of informatics many schools have a tendency to forget drawing because of computers. This is a mistake and much will be lost. The hand’s relation to the mind is where creation begins.

LŠ: How do you think the hand reveals what the mind can’t see?

ASV: Knowledge—sometimes we make things and we don't know why. It's a failure of rational work.  The freedom of the hand makes possible memories and readings. It excavates in our minds learning and a capacity to discover a deeper meaning—it is a base of creation. It’s not about seeking— it’s about discovering, something appears without being forced. So it's a mistake to forget drawing as an old thing. 

LŠ: Through your work as an educator and your architectural practice, you witnessed technologies that opened the architectural field to new possibilities. Which technologies changed practice most profoundly in terms of drawing?

ASV: The movement toward digital tools…in one way is necessary, in another way something was lost - that movement between instinct and consciousness. Now there is this deposit of hope in artificial intelligence surpassing human instinct.

LŠ: Are these technologies flattening architects' handwriting?

ASV: Technology has always been architecture's partner. There's an evolution in knowledge, capacities, and tools - but this isn't new. The opposition between technology and art is false. They're complimentary if we maintain that balance.

 LŠ: Do you often revisit old sketches?

ASV: Only when asked to choose for exhibitions. 

*curated by Lucija Šutej with drawings’ selection with Alvaro Siza. 

All images copyright and courtesy @Álvaro Siza Vieira


Álvaro Joaquim Melo Siza Vieira was born in Matosinhos (near Porto), in 1933. From 1949-55 he studied at the School of Architecture, University of Porto. He taught at the School of Architecture (ESBAP) from l966-69 and was appointed Professor of “Construction” in 1976; he taught at the School of Architecture of Porto. 

He is a member of the American Academy of Arts and Science, Honorary Fellow of the Royal Institute of British Architects, AIA/American Institute of Architects, Académie d’Architecture de France and European Academy of Sciences and Arts and American Academy of Arts and Letters; Honorary Professor of Southeast University China and China Academy of Art and honorary partner of the Academy of Schools of Architecture and the urbanism of the Portuguese language.

PAST EXHIBITIONS

PAST EXHIBITIONS

GAI QIZHENG:

Drift Along

18.3.2025 - 18.4.2025

aura space, Braga, PT

In the exhibition Drift Along, artist Gai Qizheng invites us on a journey that intertwines personal history, local knowledge, and the universal symbolism of rafts as vehicles of migration, survival, and cultural memory. Through his multidisciplinary practice, Gai explores how rafts, as both functional objects and cultural artefacts, carry systems of knowledge and reveal personal, familial, and communal histories. In our initial conversation with the artist, he credited the work, Current of Contemporary Art, by the art group The Play—with its focus on aimless adventure—as the starting point for his inquiry into floating devices. His research into rafts ultimately spans and ties the three areas and different projects—through his work we are immersed into the knowledge systems of Chao Bai River, Zuo Tan, and Qingdao.  

Gai Qizheng’s initial inquiry into rafts began with his family’s migration history. Originating from Qingdao, the artist traced his great-grandfather’s journey—a route shaped by the Chuang Guandong migration, a mass movement of people from Northern China due to floods and droughts. His great-grandfather traveled from Qingdao to Vladivostok, then to Shanghai, and finally back to Qingdao. This exploration of familial roots led the artist to reflect on his own locality and the broader narratives of migration and settlement. Through his residency and exhibition Temporary Raft Workshop, understanding of rafts as a medium was approached. Further, through exposure to the oral histories and collaborations with locals like villager Zhi Ge and Grandma Guo Jinhao, the artist uncovered how the community’s identity was tied not to their current settlement but to their ancestral origins. Every year, they would return to their ancestral halls to pray and share meals, embodying a nomadic identity rooted in the water’s fluidity.

Since his study years - the artist is rooted in Beijing, the location of his recent work Drift based on the Chao Bai River. The act of crossing this river signifies the transition from Hebei to Beijing and as the artist states, to enter the city - there is a checkpoint but water routes weaken the system and eliminate the artificial borders. The notions of settlement, migration and exploration serve as the guiding principles of his three projects, where the artist approaches the construction of rafts through the lens of heritage. This raises the question of what systems of knowledge does an object carry, and what personal, family and communal histories does it reveal? Yet, for Gai Qizheng, rafts are far more —they are symbols of adaptability, resilience, and the transmission of local knowledge.

The Oxford Dictionary defines a raft as "a flat structure made of pieces of wood tied together and used as a boat or floating platform," or "a small inflatable boat made of rubber or plastic." Regardless of material or structure, rafts have historically symbolized migration, survival, adaptability, resilience, journey, and ultimately, evolution—of technology, society, and human ingenuity.

In the exhibition Drift Along, we trace the evolution and significance of rafts as vital vehicles for transmitting local knowledge. Through his work, artist Gai Qizheng invites us on a journey that intertwines his family’s migration and personal research into history with the medium of rafts. For example, the artist adapted traditional raft-making techniques directly from local fishing communities, such as villager Zhi Ge, who shared his expertise and assisted in constructing the floating device. Through his residency in Zuo Tan and collaboration with his project partner and translator Bao Yi, he found oral history records of Zuo Tan fishermen, which traced the clan’s origins (likely in the Jinli area of Zhaoqing). Through the help of Bao Yi,  the artist also met Grandma Guo Jinhao, from Dashi Turtle Seafood Restaurant, and she could name almost everyone in the fishing village. These valuable exchanges vitally assisted Gai Qizheng in creation of simple family trees - ultimately enabling the artist to trace the migration  from Jinli all the way to Zuotan, Lihai, Shachong, Gulang, and Leliu via the Xijiang River, with Jinli as their ancestral origin - thus creating elaborate migration paths. Through communication with Uncle Jie (who lives on a houseboat) the artist gained exposure to new techniques such as the process of making a houseboat- from the structure of the frame to the floating materials under the raft. This led the artist to further question how different communities approach the floating structure. 

Rafts were used already in prehistoric cultures as support platforms or means of transport over water bodies. The concept of rafts developed in different regions independently from each other.  Depending on the different regions, the type of buoyant materials which were used to build these rafts, was dependent on the availability: Bamboo was typically used in Asia while balsa wood was used in South America along the Ecuadorian and Chilean coast and papyrus was used to build rafts and boats in ancient Egypt.

Due to the perishable nature of the building materials little knowledge on raft building in prehistoric times has been preserved. From early Spanish and Portuguese accounts we know that oceangoing rafts were used in the pre-Columbian time in the Andes region. Reports on floats and pontoons in the Chilean sea give us more information on the materials used. To ensure tight and waterproof sealing lion skins were used and the rafts were caulked using “almagre”, a mixture of blood, hair and mud. Later, almagre was replaced by ground bricks, iron oxide, oil and grease. In Asia, bamboo rafts were built by lashing together bamboo stakes using lianas. Rafts in the North American region became important with the rise of the timber industry. Contrary to the rafts used in South America and Asia, rafts in North America were used to transport wood via waterways and the building material was at the same time the transport good.

From the mid-18th century on, first rafts made of rubber appeared in North America for recreational activities. With the rise of synthetic materials in shipbuilding, knowledge about traditional raft building slowly disappeared. Rafts for recreational activities became easily available and the traditional use as means of transport became less important. During the second world war, these activities died down but experienced a revival shortly after the war. This time coincides with the rising importance of the plastics industry, providing new and cheap materials for rafts, such as nylons or rubbers. Rafting has remained since then as a recreational activity, while the traditional usage ceased. 

As Gai Qizheng constructed his own rafts, he drew direct lessons from nature, exposing how landscapes and natural environments dictate the design and construction of these floating devices. The project builds upon the DIY principles and invites the audience to migrate from observers to active participants via workshops. This ongoing conversation between personal history, local knowledge, and the impact of natural forces are the basis of the artist’s exploration of rafts as both functional objects and vessels of cultural and ancestral memory. Yet, what sets this research apart is the artist’s desire to share the knowledge - and we want to leave the audience with a main question of how can we learn from nature, our ancestors and what role will landscape have in dictating our routes of movements? 

*curated by Johannes Kreutzer and Lucija Šutej 

盖琦正 GAI QIZHENG

盖琦正 Gai Qizheng is a curator, contemporary artist and the co-founder of TTTB Artist-Run Space. His artistic practice focuses on cultural dissemination, misinterpretation and fusion in the context of globalisation, and creates works in the form of research, documentation, art, board games, and personal publications. Qizheng holds educational background in Artificial Intelligence and Urban Landscape Design (MA) and in Public Art and Experience Design (BA), both from the Central Academy of Fine Arts.

Selected solo exhibitions include Temporary Raft Workshop, Southern Dance Hall, Guangdong (2024). Recently, Qizheng participated in group exhibitions such as The Upcoming Trend: Poetry and Thoughts in the Age of Artificial Intelligence, Guan Shanyue Art Museum, Shenzhen (2024); Underground and Contemporary Shelters, Park Art Space, Beijing (2024); Pidgin Spectrum: Nonlinear Narratives of Multiculture, Sinan Time Zone, Shanghai (2023); Groups as a Method - Research and Samples of Art Groups from Central Academy of Fine Arts, CAFA Art Museum, Beijing (2023); to name just a few.

Dalibor Martinis:

Measure This

23.1.2025 - 19.2.2025

aura space, Braga, PT

In September 2023, I had the pleasure of speaking with Dalibor Martinis about his latest series of works. During our Zoom conversation, the discussion naturally turned to nature and hiking—two recurring themes in his artistic practice and daily life. Over the years, Martinis has meticulously captured the textures of tree bark and their full-scale widths. This process has yielded a detailed photographic archive of environmental and biological history, through which one can trace air quality, soil composition, and even the impacts of human activity.

Measure This reflects the artist’s encounters with trees during his daily walks through the forests of Kamenjak in Istria. Kamenjak, a natural reserve near Premantura, sits at the edge of the Medulin Archipelago. From its coastline, the sea moves toward the island of Lošinj. On these walks, Martinis assumes the role of curator, documenting trees in the surrounding forests as both subjects and systems of knowledge. The word “curator” derives from the Latin cura, meaning “to take care,” and Martinis views the trees as living archives and artefacts—storied witnesses of time, environmental shifts, and human interventions in the landscape. 

The history of Istrian vegetation is intertwined with human activity and its impact on flora ecosystems. The region’s name originates from the ancient Histri people, who were administratively integrated into the Roman Empire as the Tenth Region (Regio X) under Emperor Augustus. Through different rules, Istria's rich vegetation and fertile lands were valued as important sources of agrarian productivity and of timber. The excessive human intervention significantly changed the region’s natural landscape, leading to deforestation. As the artist demonstrates through his work - the trees of Istria are the living witnesses to the various degrees of human influence on nature. 

Each tree bark, captured in photographs, becomes a unit of measurement—a testament to the passage of time. Growth rings are formed during the cycle of a year. From winter to autumn trees undergo different states, starting from a dormant state, initiation of growth in spring which proceeds until late summer where growth slows down and comes to a halt in winter. A full cycle creates one ring a year which often appears in a darker and a lighter color. Growth during springtime is fueled by sugars stored in the roots of the tree, leading to cells with thinner cell walls which appear lighter in color (early wood). In summer, sugars are supplied by photosynthesis, leading to cells with thicker walls which appear darker in color (late wood). 

Tree growth within one season can be influenced by climate effects changing the conditions within the same growing season. This leads to accelerated or delayed growth rate with changes to the ring width, or complete stop of growth leading to false rings. Tree growth therefore does not only serve as a measure of time but tells us about the history of environmental effects such as wildfires or climate history. The stronger focus on using growth increments of trees to gain knowledge on climatology or ecology thereby seems to be a newer trend. Much earlier, dendrochronology was applied to archaeology and cultural heritage studies such as dating prehistoric settlements and ancient wood artefacts.

Yet, what does it mean to measure a tree? How can a tree's complexity—its growth, age, and relationship to its environment—be translated into visual, digital, or conceptual forms? By engaging with these natural “records”, we are exposed to learning and understanding of environmental changes, human influence on nature and encouraged to gain a deeper appreciation of the interdependence and connectivity between humans and our ecosystems. The artist invites us to dwell upon: How can exposure to history inform the present and shape a more thoughtful future—where we learn from nature instead of overwriting it?  

*curated by Johannes Kreutzer and Lucija Šutej 

DALIBOR MARTINIS 

Born in Zagreb in 1947. Graduated from the Academy of Fine Arts in Zagreb; has exhibited since 1969 and works as a video artist. He has had numerous personal shows, performances and video screenings, and participated in many international exhibitions (Biennales: Sao Paulo, Venice, Kwang-ju, Thessaloniki, Cetinje, Cairo, Ljubljana; Dokumenta/Kassel, and so on). His films and video works have been shown at film/video festivals in, for example, Berlin, Tokyo, Montreal and Locarno, Oberhausen and Bogota in 2014, Vienna and Seattle in 2015, and in 2022 at Montreal Independent Film Festival, Ciudad de México International Film Festival, FEKK – Ljubljana Short Film Festival, Tokyo International Short Film Festival and others.

He has had grants from the Canada Council (1978) Jaica (Japan 1984), and ArtsLink (USA, 1994, and 2010). He was guest professor at the Academy of Dramatic Art/Zagreb in 1987/91, and at Ontario College of Art/Toronto in 1991/2 and was a full professor at the Academy of Applied Arts of Rijeka University, 2007-2012. He has won a number of international prizes and awards (Tokyo Video Festival 1984; Locarno 1984; Alpe Adria Film Festival/Trieste 1996; Best Experimental Film Award at Bogota Short Film Festival 2014); Honorable Jury Mention/Mumbai Film Fest. 2017), and in Croatia (the Josip Račić Award for 1995; the City of Zagreb Award for 1998; the HDLU Annual Award for 2009; Vladimir Nazor Award 2018; T-HT Award for 2013 and 2018)

His works are in the collections of the Museum of Contemporary Art/Zagreb, the Museum of Modern Art/New York, Stedelijk Museum/Amsterdam, ZKM Karlsruhe, New York Public Library, Kontakt/Erste Bank/ Vienna, Fundación Otazu Collection/Navarra etc.

Dalibor Martinis lives in Zagreb, Croatia.