A Fortaleza Print

"Where can people go?" This question prompts another: "Which people?" Wilame Lima's work delves into the concept of transit, exploring the spaces in which racialized, queer and Latinx individuals are permitted or prohibited from navigating. Within this context, societal norms dictate who has the authority to occupy certain spaces or cross social and national boundaries to venture into different territories. Wilame grew up in Aracaju, Brazil, a city distant from major financial centers, where marginalization created restricted spaces for a portion of the population, including himself. His initial experience in professional photography was in journalism, where he learned that images should embody technical precision, document events faithfully, and maintain neutrality. However, he couldn't overlook the inherent contradiction of pursuing neutrality within the news industry: a field that consistently politicizes, objectifies, and dehumanizes bodies. In his quest for greater diversity, he relocated to southern Brazil, and later to Switzerland, Austria, France, and the United States. During this journey, he finally abandoned the notion of neutral photography and embraced a style characterized by dreamlike and surreal elements. Recognizing himself as a racialized individual, Wilame integrates themes such as racism, homophobia, and xenophobia into his work, yet does so through poetic and sensitive language. For Wilame, photography is a means to emancipate both the observer and the subject. It also functions as a therapeutic tool, addressing the wounds of the soul. His artistic mission is to convey the experiences of marginalized individuals in spaces where they are denied access. By capturing and portraying these experiences through his camera, he not only legitimizes the presence of these individuals in these spaces but also facilitates their entry. Through an explicitly political discourse, Wilame challenges and disrupts while also affording himself the privilege of abstraction through the nuanced poetry of imagery. It's crucial to acknowledge that the act of abstraction is inherently political, particularly considering the societal pressure on marginalized groups to narrate their struggles, perpetuating a fetishization of suffering continually. In a society that romanticizes exclusion, it's imperative to remember that everyone deserves the fundamental right to move freely: within cities, across borders, through life, and within the realm of expression.