In his book “Photography”, Gabriel Bauret (FR, 1951) presents us with the perspective of different authors on the power of photography, trying to assess its possible neutrality: “Today, perhaps there are no truly left or right photographs; but it is possible to observe, in the press, that images, sometimes manipulated or “recovered” without the photographer’s consent, effectively serve this or that cause, this or that opinion, reinforce criticism of a politician or performance. (…) it would be necessary to ask ourselves generically about a real power, transposing to this domain a question formulated at a certain time by writers: what is the power of literature?”1
One of the authors he cited is Henri Cartier-Bresson (FR, 1908-2004), who contradicts the idea of neutrality and refers to the “decisive moment”. In the only text he wrote about photography (“Images à la sauvette [Imagens à socapa]”, 1952), developed an idea about the specific relationship that art maintains with time: “For me, photography is the simultaneous recognition, in a fraction of a second, on the one hand of the meaning of a fact and, on the other, of a rigorous observation of the forms that express this fact, perceived visually. (…) We play with things that disappear and, when they disappear, it is impossible to make them return (…). For us, what disappears, disappears forever: hence, our anguish and also the essential originality of our craft.2
Alfredo Cunha (PT, 1953) published in 2024, the fiftieth anniversary of the Carnation Revolution, the book “25 de Abril de 1974, Thursday” which brings together photographs of that Thursday that changed our collective life, but also of the War Colonial and the events that marked the years of decolonization and democratic construction. What we see, when we leaf through this fabulous edition, with texts by Carlos Matos Gomes (PT, 1946), Capitão de Abril, Adelino Gomes (PT, 1944), journalist and Fernando Rosas (PT, 1946), historian, is that the The vast majority of images from this period that we know are by Alfredo Cunha, earning him the title of greatest photographer of the Revolution. Regarding the book, it is also interesting to note that it includes interventions by Vhils (PT, 1987) on the photographer’s iconic images and which make up the edition’s cover and tabs.
The relevance of the book is, for all this, unquestionable, increasing our awareness of the importance of these documents and their dissemination so that memory is not lost, the poetics of April remain and democracy does not fade. It is therefore justified that the publication of the book has resulted in dozens of exhibitions featuring some of the emblematic photographs, but also reproductions of Vhils’ proposal, which are spread throughout the country, promoted by different entities.
The Professor Machado Vilela Municipal Library, in Vila Verde, hosts, from March 17th to June 28th, an example of this itinerancy, integrating the exhibition into the celebration of the 50th anniversary of April 25th, 1974 and associating a set of other events that talk about Freedom and Democracy. Alfredo Cunha’s work and the memory he keeps and transports of a time that is ours due to the way he changed the course of History, places him in a kind of eternity, of Olympus, and it is therefore fair to emphasize that his book and the exhibitions associated with it are of the utmost importance for these celebrations, even giving them a kind of transversality and offering all of this the unity that we lack, in times of street and collective urgency.
