If they were to drain away, very little would remain.

(Yayo Herrero)

Eva Díez looks at her surroundings like someone recounting a scientific report. Or is it a dive? It is a breath. A preparation. Everything attended to in detail, as only attention can be.

For this new exhibition at Salgadeiras Arte Contemporânea, Eva Díez brings together a crossing of photographic series: resonancias, o centro é un movemento perpétuo, piel, and photographs still untitled, connected by the number 83. This number is both a question and the approximate percentage of water in the human brain, and here it overflows its waters to become a thought of interdependence that runs through the exhibition. How does all the water we carry in our bodies breathe in order to sustain us? To understand it, nothing like returning to the same place and revisiting waters that appear stagnant, living together in a minimal rhythm, pulsing. As a starting point, Eva Díez situates herself in that communion between landscape and subjectivity to pay attention to cyanobacteria—holding within them the invisible memory of the planet. Where might their photosynthesis take place? Let us now breathe oxygen, alive, with everything in relation.

“Respirando o entorno” begins by returning to the resonance of waters, alongside o centro é un movemento perpétuo, where the fragility of rice paper allows us to feel this almost imperceptible movement, in dialogue with the life of resonancias. This is not a project about nature, Eva Díez reminds us; it is about how what happens outside resonates within. On that threshold is also the series piel, where other landscapes open up. Here, these landscapes are damaged and appear as wounds made by human action. These are the other gestures that Eva Díez reminds us of, revealing their presence with phosphorescent paint. It is a reminder of poetic resistance, in which she herself is also a connected subject, a latent echo, an ancient vibration brought into the present. There may be mysteries that can only be thought in company, like this sum of gestures, in the gift of an open sky, inward.

(Text by Rui Dias Monteiro. February 2026)