something of my own creation

see it, say it, sorted



_ amor-a




If I perceive a colour,
that colour constitutes me - the deep
purple that leaves
a burgundy stain,
the persistent pink that lingers after
rubbing my hands too long is me:
thin skin, soluble
to the touch, ready
to spill into any hand that holds (me).


In my language, we change
the words to indicate precision - it is called inflection.
“A” marks the feminine, but
we say o amor  -
amora is love, made female: a
fruit felt sweet and persistent, like I
wished ours had been.
There’s a childish rhyme that links the taste of the berry to something forbidden
(carved in the threat of revelation: “Você gosta de amora? Vou contar pro seu pai que cê namora!”
to crave for amor-a is
a transgression!


Today I read a hypothesis by A. Varda:
if we opened-up a person, at the core we'd see a landscape.
Landscape is a more generous word than paisagem (the immediate noun that comes to mind when I transport it to Portuguese)
I’ll say territory. Even knowing that in territory, there might be room for even less.

Amor-a is my way of opening-up a person
a self-excavation where archaeology becomes subjection.
 My hands went through 1,050 meters of line to create this place. A territory of origins, memories, narratives, and all that lies beyond my contours -  what my skin cannot
 hold back,
 but shapes me all the same. A displacement sometimes barefoot and free, sometimes tight and constrained.
 A place not to fit into or simply exist, but rather to resist and continue.








_ missing pieces














Funny how the things we are drawn to have nothing to do with them, and everything to do with us – I thought I was just heading back home. My body aching from all the movement (I never thought heat could make me dizzy. But here, it does). 
I must have stopped hoping you’d be there waiting. The sun is gonna set soon. A kid was by the sand, collecting shells – I’m not convinced they are actually from the sea; maybe someone just had a sack full of them and wanted to get rid of them, there were so many! Got me smiling and curious. 

I started noting these very flat rocks. Beautiful color. Dark. Sharp, but not in a violent way. Thought I could use them in my piece, if I could find a few. Didn’t take long – there were plenty! I was basically just moving around and back and forth to leave them in my bag. Must have treaded the same walking line a dozen times! Then all I could see was this other stuff: glassy, timed, fragile. What a pungent contrast they would make! But there’s no way I would have enough – had been over for almost one hour until I saw this one!

But then, all of a sudden, they were all I could see.
I got plenty. Until I realized what was going on.



Funny how the things that attract are really for us. About us.
And then there’s everything that follows: the going for it, feeling it, weighing it. Choosing it. Keeping.
Funny how there are things that attract us but then just aren’t that nice to hold. Funny how there are things that attract us and look perfect, but just aren’t right. Not for now.

The sun has set now. And I get it.
Funny how sometimes our hands are wrong for the things we wished felt attracted to us.










_ you’re never ever ever ever there
I was drawing borders: mine and yours, before and now, what was and what is.

At first, I thought crossing over meant arriving
somewhere. 
That it carried the promise of destination.

But being here, I've learned:
 there is no line that truly marks a border.

It makes no difference if it’s here or there
 Time and place, at their limit, are not measured—they’re felt in revolutions.

This midnight doesn’t trace an actual edge, doesn’t neatly close one chapter and opens another.

We can start again from right where we are—just by shifting our perspective.







_Curatorship and critical text 
for Dan de Carvalho's solo exhibition, 
Amsterdam, 2023
To contemplate existence linked to a time-space to which we belong is a fundamental guiding principle of human thought itself. The human being has a desire for inscription and understanding. Our inherent need to translate our explorations and elaborations of the world into meaningful language, so that we can express and convey them, is also the greater work of our existence to carve out a place that identifies us and endures (ours, who share the Eurocentric notion that life is a progressive linearity from beginning to an end).
The act of creation encapsulates these two desires.
But what happens when we find ourselves displaced from this time-space that constitutes us? If, as the great Brazilian thinker Leda Maria Martins teaches, 'in everything we do, we express what we are, what drives us, what shapes us, what makes us part of a group, a set, a community, culture, and society,' what can poetic elaboration do in face of non-places that transition events impose on the individual?

In SIGNIFICÂNCIA, Brazilian visual artist Dan de Carvalho explores these premises. Starting from displacement, from Sao Paulo to Amsterdam (and all that it entails), the artist delves into our most primal organizational mechanism, language, to grapple with (himself) thinking of a new ensemble. In a game that uses the translating operation as a creative passage beyond language itself, as access and inscribing principle of new places—a reboot in palimpsest that simultaneously opens up new meaningful possibilities (and invites the viewer to propose them) and anchors its own origin by maintaining words in their vernacular.
Creating, in this logic, may ultimately be our search for permanence through constant redefinition. A way to deal with our finiteness through the communicative tradition that postulates that, in the fabric of existence, it is the other who completes us."
To contemplate existence linked to a time-space to which we belong is a fundamental guiding principle of human thought itself. The human being has a desire for inscription and understanding.
In SIGNIFICÂNCIA, Brazilian visual artist Dan de Carvalho explores these premises. Starting from displacement, from Sao Paulo to Amsterdam (and all that it entails), the artist delves into our most primal organizational mechanism, language, to grapple with (himself) thinking of a new ensemble.


unrelated image, shot by me, just because...






.:PUBLISHED!
Rio Lento
for Zum, publication by IMS


Hotel Palenque é uma instalação de 31 slides e 42 minutos de áudio com análises e reflexões do artista Robert Smithson (sim, da famosa Spyral Jetty) acerca das imagens apresentadas a um auditório universitário em 1972.

Pr’além da significância do trabalho como emblemático das investigações de Smithson sobre suas questões de entropia e afins, destaco, aqui, o “apresentar”: em Hotel Palenque a percepção do espectador é claramente orientada pelo artista — o gesto de apresentar a imagem não é suficiente. Além de mostrar, Smithson precisa declarar: ali está.

Foi para esse trabalho — ou, ainda, para esse procedimento de apresentar um projeto visual com a adição da narração de um relato pessoal — que Rio Lento, da fotógrafa documental Camila Svenson, me levou.

                                                                    Full Article  




































nathalia bertazi_ visual artist and researcher, with a background in curating


nbertazi@gmail.com


@nathaliabertazi

_

Not long ago, someone told me I didn’t have to be so faithful to my roots. Funny how even small displacements can crack open a core.
I suppose I’m always trying to hold onto a trace 
of time, 
a sense of place. 
Is it in the in-between? Or maybe in the fault lines...

There is beauty in making sense of misalignments
trying to locate that precise point where our certainties dissolve and the stories we once swore by quietly fall apart.
A rupture is far from an absence. It is a latent space, charged with the tension between who we were and who we might become
- a space of tension and discovery.


Can I start over?
I believe in practice. Not just the overused, hollow noun we’ve grown accustomed to skimming past in texts like this. I believe in practice as a site of (re)existence, a space for repair.
(And how might the act of making - with all its detours and hesitations - offer a space for collective reflection?)
I see process as a way of thinking, not just producing
an invitation to dwell in states of uncertainty, friction, and unfolding.
Through fragmentation, I seek to create work that resists fixed readings and instead invites reflection, hesitation, or resonance.
I’m interested in how inherited knowledge is carried, broken, or reconfigured, and often incorporates open-ended, collaborative gestures into the work. 
Navigating the porous terrain between narrative, memory, and materiality, I approach image-making as a discursive space: 
one that reflects how we read, structure, and give form to experience.








Education
MA Print
Royal College of Art
2025

PG Curating Contemporary Art, The Art of Social Engagement
UAL: Chelsea College of Arts
2018

BA Photography
Escola Panamerinaca de Arte e Design
2011

BA Languages and Literature
Anhanguera Educacional
2009





Exhibitions
School of Arts & Humanities graduate show
Royal College of Art
London
2025

The Fall of Icarus
curated by Yihan Pan and Teng Wang,
Upper Gulbenkian Gallery,
London
2025

Ancestral Utopias

curated by SustainLab RCA,
Hangar Gallery,
London
2025

Rites of Ruins
curated by JJ Hellerman and Nathalia Bertazi,
Safehouse1 Peckham,
London
2025

In Betweens

Print MA show,
Southwark Park Galleries,
London
2025

Invisible
curated by Sam Josephs
Hockney Galler,
London
2024

Obra de Memória _room at Festival Imaginária,
curated by me with lombada
Edifício Vera,
São Paulo
2024

Significância
_solo show by Dan de Carvalho
curated by me
LOVA,
Amsterdan
2023

Início, meio e início
curated by Amanda Melo da Mota and Virgina de Medeiros
Instituto Tomie Ohtake
São Paulo
2023

We Like Small Things v.6
curated by Anna Goldwater Alexander
FilterPhoto Space
Chicago
2023

Sinapses

curated by Walter Costa
Galeria Vão
São Paulo
2018





Work Experience

founder of
soslaios, arte e cultura
educational project (2018)

co-founder of
asdfasdfasdf
an art lab based in London (for now)

co-founder, executive producer and art-educator at
lombada collective
photobook and zine lab (2017-24)

executive producer of
Festival Imaginária
photobooks fair and festival
São Paulo (2023)

photo editor at
GQ Brazil magazine

edições Globo | Condé Nast (2012-16)

researcher at
Marie Claire Brazil magazine
editora Globo (2010-12)







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