Dancing Barefoot & Photographing Strangers at Gliding Barnacles Surf Fest (with Gonçalo Carvalho)
by Abby Strangward, all photos by Gonçalo Carvalho
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Described as a “melting pot of cultures, perspectives and ideas; seasoned with creativity; fuelled by art as a form of self-expression”, Gliding Barnacles is an annual surf festival held each year in Figueira da Foz, Portugal. Originally a celebration of long-boarding, it’s grown each year to include music and other countless forms of art, now bringing together an eclectic community of creatives, families, locals and nomadic travellers from all over the world, gathering each year to celebrate surf, art, life and freedom.
This year, the festival was held over five days, from August 28th to September 1st. Photographer Gonçalo Carvalho was in attendance, shooting the festival for his first time, on a medium format camera. His beautiful work, shared in batches over the weeks post-festival, caught our attention immediately - sun-drenched and in the most beautifully soft yet sharp focus, he brought a kind of candid magic to documenting Gliding Barnacles. Most interestingly, nearly all of his shots were from the shore - a new approach to documenting a primarily surf-based festival.
We caught up with Gonçalo to discuss his experience at the festival, his approach to photography, and the magic of capturing strangers.
Can you introduce yourself & where you’re from?
My name is Gonçalo Carvalho and I’m a film photographer and almost-engineer from Portugal. I was born in Coimbra but grew up in a village not far away. I’m currently finishing my Master’s in Engineering, during which I moved to Norway for 6 months. It was during that time that I realised photography is what I really love and feel the most joy doing. This conclusion came a little bit late in my studies, unfortunately, but I know that I made the right decision back then. In a couple months I’m moving back to Norway to write my thesis, and who knows what opportunities might come after.
How did you first get into photography?
I think, in a way, photography was always a part of me, though asleep in my subconscious for years. I was introduced to photography at a young age through my parents and always assumed that the disposable cameras they gave me were for school-trip purposes only, because otherwise I wouldn’t be holding one. Photography fell into forgetfulness until I was 15 and took a trip to Switzerland. They bought me a digital camera after and I used it for more than 5 years. I wouldn’t say I was into photography, but more in a trial and error cycle of discovery. When in college, this memory of film came to my mind before I fall asleep. I spend the rest of the night searching and the more I searched, the more I was being drawn to it. I ordered 10 disposable cameras that night. Before they arrived, I was buying my first 35mm camera. After I showed the camera to my family, they started a conversation about how good of a photographer my grandfather was, and that day I learned everything I’d never knwon since he died. It’s been 2 years now and I couldn’t be happier about the impulsive decisions I made that night.
Was this your first time at Gliding Barnacles Fest?
No. My first time there was two years ago, but as a photographer, this was my first time.
Can you give us a bit of background about the festival, for those who might not have heard of it?
So, Gliding Barnacles is a surf festival that, in addition to classic non-competitive surfing, promotes local cuisine, sustainability and all art forms of emerging artists, from photographers, graphic designers, plastic artists to painters. There are exhibitions, concerts all day, at the beach and inside the hangar. In this year’s edition there was even Night Surf. It is put together by an amazing guy called Eurico Gonçalves and it takes place in Figueira da Foz, a coastal city with a mile-long right-hand break.
“Gliding Barnacles wants to follow the roots of surfing, back when
surfing was all about expression … even if it’s just dancing barefoot
under a tent with a beer on your hand. I think this sense of belonging,
of inclusion, is what truly gives the festival its magic.”
What is it, do you think, that truly gives the festival its magic?
The festival wants to follow the roots of surfing, back when surfing was all about expression, as an art. It holds its essence in those values. If we walk around the place where the festival takes place, we can see art emerging from almost anywhere. People will include you and will want you to express yourself too, even if it’s just dancing barefoot under a tent with a beer on your hand. I think this sense of belonging, of inclusion that the festival provides you with is what it truly gives it’s magic.
You were invited along to document the festival on your medium format camera - did you have an idea of the sort of images you wanted to create, going into it?
The days after they invited me, I was constantly thinking about what kind of pictures I would be able to take without any gear that allowed me to go into the water. I was scared and nervous about what I was going into; I’ve never documented a festival before, much less a surf one. I wanted to create something different, provide a different perspective from what has been seen so far, but I had no idea how I would do it from the shore. I was afraid to fail.
“I wanted to create something different, provide a different
perspective from what has been seen so far, but I had no idea
how I would do it from the shore.”
You talked about not being able to take your medium format camera into the water — how did that impact how you approached shooting a surf festival?
I always thought that different types of festivals need to have different types of photos (i.e. a surf festival must have surf photos and music festivals must have photos of musicians on stage and thousands of people watching), but this proved to be a misconception of mine. I didn’t actually need to be into the water to shoot a surf festival; there is so much more to it than just surfing.
What were you drawn most to capturing on camera, during the festival?
Not surf in its essence but more of what comes from that. The friendships that are created, the bound that is formed between people from opposite parts of the world, the ones that came for the solely purpose to be at the festival. I gravitate towards people and I want them to be the bulk of my work, whatever it is.
Your portraits, in particular, have such a beautifully raw & intimate element to them. How do you approach capturing those sort of candids? Were you shooting a lot of strangers?
Photographing strangers is a dangerous game — it’s uncomfortable at its core. Asking people to photograph them is risky, you are crossing boundaries the moment you approach a stranger, let alone when asking them to move to a different place to photograph them. Being the first year [as a photographer] everyone was new to me. The band wrist of the festival provides a sense of trust and a link between the people (that were not invited) and me. I was merely asking to take the picture and if I found a better composition for that person in another place, I would ask to move, expecting nothing.
“Photographing strangers is a dangerous game —
it’s uncomfortable at its core.”
What would you hope people might feel, diving through your collection of images from the festival?
As a whole I hope the images incite a sense of belonging that they can be part of. A place to where you can bring your family and feel secure. Where everyone will look after each other and share a good dose of fun. Most of all I want them to scream surf, but for them to feel like so much more than just that.
Could you sum up the whole Gliding Barnacles experience in a word or phrase?
A mind-blowing kaleidoscope of fun, laughs and dozens of events, that make you feel alive and leave you with memories that will last a lifetime.
**click on an image to scroll thru**
