Matilde Viegas’ sun-soaked photo series captures the cacophony of Portuguese markets

Every Wednesday as a child, the photographer Matilde Viegas would be picked up from school by her mum and together they’d make their way to the local market for lunch. It was a routine that was so natural, so reliable for the photographer that she didn’t know how much it meant to her until it had already passed. As Matilde grew up, moved to a big city, became more “cosmopolitan” – shopping online, grabbing food on the go and relying on UberEats at home – this weekly routine was slowly lost to the swathes of modernisation.

Last year, Matilde needed a personal project to break out of the monotony and the many energy-draining, day-to-day requirements of freelance life that had, she realised, made her lose touch with her creative spark. It was only after the writer and podcast host Gem Fletcher suggested she try something “simpler, more playful”, that her mind returned to the market. Today, so many of us (Matilde included) have succumbed to “the automation, the imposed ‘easiness’ of everything, the optimisation of life for optimisation’s sake rather than happiness’ sake. We now have in our hands this highly frictionless life,” reflects the photographer. For Matilde, the market, with roots that date back to the medieval era, represents the sheer opposite to this life: as defined by bustling bodies, clashing, competing sensory experiences and, most importantly – human interaction.

Weeks after her chat with Gem, Matilde found herself cleaning her film cameras and she was struck by an impulse to make her way to the market and see what inspired her to click the shutter – when she started, she found she couldn’t stop. From this very first day there was one core tenet that went on to inform the whole project – not focusing on making “good” photographs. The camera almost became secondary, or, in Matilde’s words, “superfluous”, and conversation came first. “[The market is] a perfect place to interact with others without having to excuse yourself for interrupting them,” Matilde says, and if an outfit, tattoo or hairdo caught Matilde’s eye, she ignored the urge to keep the compliment to herself and let the wearer know. “Familiarity here was key,” she adds, “people knowing my face, my name, was essential.”

Matilde began attending the market regularly, heading along with her family and her partner Mafalda Salgueiro, who was filming to create a short that would accompany the photo series. It made sense that Matilde frequented with those closest to her, as it mimicked the familial, intergenerational dynamics she witnessed and that her lens was so drawn to. The photographer points to a sun-drenched, close-up photo of a little girl sleeping, tucked up amongst blankets and the baby clothes her mother, Solange, sells. “Sellers wake up in the wee hours of the morning and eventually everyone needs to take a nap,” Matilde explains. “I love the diptych – this little world of serenity, motherhood and family in the chaos that is the market.”

These portraits of sellers and market frequenters are paired with shots of tables laden with denim of all description, nuts, eggs and moments of contrast – delicate lace hanging from plastic clip hangers, the well-worn back door of a van thrust open, made beautiful by a wash of sunlight. They’re images that Matilde describes feeling as “natural, unforced, non-hierarchical”, removed from the pressure of being the ‘perfect’ image to deliver to a client. The ideal conclusion to the project was having it exhibited in Porto, at the Leica Gallery, alongside Mafalda’s accompanying film. Curated by Magda Pinto, the images “took on a life of their own” and ended up on three-metre-high tarps, trailing the walls of the building. Matilde now has high hopes for the exhibition going on tour. Just like the sellers travelling with their wares, she dreams of taking the “cacophony” of the local Portuguese market to new eyes and ears.