Patterns of Portugal

Introduction

Tucked away on the edge of the Atlantic, where dappled sunlight and ocean breezes kiss the shores and old-world romanticism abounds, Portugal’s diminutive size defies its weighty historical significance. Tales of conquering heroes and seafaring legends are reflected through its richly tiled artworks, storied architectural elements, and the Roman and Moorish ruins that lie scattered throughout its bucolic countryside. Once one of the richest empires in Europe, Portugal has also been one of the continent’s poorest countries, experiencing a drastic swing of fortunes through its centuries of civilization. Weaving from the honeyed fields of Alentejo and sparkling shores of the Algarve, to the heart of cosmopolitan Lisbon and verdant valleys of the Douro, color and pattern bring to life the complex history of Portugal, a country whose fortunes have always been tied to the sea.

In 1139, during the Reconquista—in which Christian crusaders reconquered the land from the Moors—the Kingdom of Portugal was founded by King Afonso Henriques and what followed was one of Europe’s longest-lived, wealthiest empires. As the birthplace of the Age of Discovery and center of the first global empire, Portugal made its mark on every corner of the globe through colonization, trade, slavery, and commerce during its mighty and ruthless reign. Thanks to their famed explorers Bartolomeu Dias and Vasco da Gama, the Portuguese were the first Europeans to cross the Indian Ocean, a huge win in terms of gaining access to the lucrative spice route. By the sixteenth century, Portuguese rule had stretched around the globe, and because of the enormous wealth (and inspiration) drawn from Brazil, Goa, China, Mozambique, Angola, and the East Indies—to name just a few—the country entered a golden age of art, most visible through the architecture and surface design of its lavishly commissioned palaces, churches, and monasteries, and its plentiful use of colorful ceramic tiles called azulejos.

As a photographer, I was instantly drawn to Portugal’s unique palette and rich use of pattern, and especially intrigued by the way the same hues seem to echo throughout the country. The blue-and-white azulejos are reflected in the sunbaked beaches and enchanting blue water of the Atlantic coast. The fuchsia and gold of bougainvillea in bloom are mirrored, though timeworn and softened, in the colorfully painted facades of pastel homes. Many of Portugal’s decorative motifs include elements from battles, sea voyages, conquests, village life, and Catholicism, the country’s predominant religion. A famous example can be seen at Porto’s São Bento Railway Station, where Jorge Colaço, one of Portugal’s foremost azulejo artists, created blue-and-white panels of tiles illustrating scenes of daily life, such as the hay harvest, alongside murals of the country’s history, including one particularly detailed rendering of Prince Henry the Navigator during the conquest of Ceuta in North Africa.

Many of the colors seen in the country’s architecture and art find their inspiration in the palette of Portugal’s natural world. From Costa Azul to the Algarve, the southern coast is known for its strikingly blue waters, pristine beaches, and plunging sandstone cliffs. The landscape is echoed in the bleached white buildings, terra-cotta roofs, and simple architecture of the area’s charming coastal towns. Clean lines and soothing colors abound. The Mediterranean color scheme creeps into urban life as well, with Lisbon’s sunny yellow trams winding through the streets, and its buildings covered in sea-green and sky-blue azulejos. As you venture north, the palette drifts toward the lush greens of the terraced Douro Valley and verdant Vinho Verde region, and the deep golds, burgundies, and olives of the area’s abundant harvests. The result is a fluidity of color that meanders through Portugal’s countryside, coast, small towns, and cities.

As is the case with so much of my work, this book is personal in nature. I am drawn to stories that help us understand our interconnectedness. While writing my last book, Patterns of India, I began researching the family history of my husband, Vijay. Blanche Coutinho, Vijay’s mother, was a Catholic whose family originated from the Konkan region of India. Portuguese colonization lasted for over 450 years from 1505 to 1961 in the Konkan region and heavily influenced the culture, architecture, cuisine, and religion. Under the colonial caste system, there were three designations: castiço (Indians who converted to Christianity but had no Portuguese bloodline), mestiço (a blend of Indian and Portuguese), and descendentes (Portuguese who settled in Goa, India). We believe Blanche’s father, Albert, was mestiço, and that Albert’s father was a descendente from Portugal. Our documentation is limited, so we’re relying on family lore and burial locations to try to piece together the lineage. But imagine my shock upon learning my children’s roots possibly include a Portuguese lineage—one that dates back only a few generations.

It needs to be noted that during the Portuguese colonization of India, many Hindu families were forced by Portuguese-Catholic missionaries to convert against their will. In doing so, these families had to take on a Catholic surname. Therefore, it is impossible to know exactly how my husband’s family came to the Coutinho name. Vijay’s family history offers an example of how colonization not only influences entire cultures, but also impacts one’s understanding of their own family’s history.

Nowadays, my family and I find ourselves immersed in Portuguese culture. We live in Rhode Island, a state with a robust Portuguese population. In fact, southeastern Massachusetts and Rhode Island together have the highest concentration of Portuguese people in the United States. The Portuguese have a long history here in New England, starting in the sixteenth century with the whaling boom, with a second wave of immigration arriving in search of economic opportunity in the textile mills and fishing industry. My son, Vikram, plays soccer at an elite level and the majority of his teammates are Portuguese. Every summer they return to Portugal on holiday to visit their extended family. When the team reunites in the fall, their sun-drenched travel tales paint a picture of a country akin to paradise. All of this had intrigued me to the point of wondering, Could I apply the same approach—connecting culture and history through the visual world—to Portugal as I did to Rajasthan in my previous book? You are holding the answer to that question in your hands today.

My travels throughout Portugal were shaped by the people I met along the way, who extended to me the warmest reception I could have imagined. Hospitality seems steeped into the very core of what it means to be Portuguese. I was plied with sparkling, incandescent wines, I feasted on fish pulled from the waters before me and grilled over a beach fire, and I was personally guided through artist studios, working farms, homesteads, and vineyards. Having been steered away from tourist traps, I instead found myself dining with families in their homes, lingering as they told me stories of their lives in Portugal. It became clear that the Portuguese take great pride in their country, and they are eager to show off its many gifts. Much of the country’s allure is rooted in its nostalgic charm—its centuries-old winemaking, medieval villages, and haunting fado music—and yet my coast-to-coast travels brought to life a present-day Portugal that beautifully marries tradition and innovation.