At the Sea-Side
BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My holes were empty like a cup.
In every hole the sea came up
Till it could come no more.
--
It’s amazing how one show comes down and another one goes up, and how, in that brief moment where the gallery sits in an empty stillness, the walls seem to yearn to have something on them again. The newest exhibition satisfies that void, featuring nine images from photographer Christian Chaize’s Praia Piquinia series, a body of work spanning five years and a total of twenty-seven images where the artist “faithfully returned to the same beach in Portugal, taking photographs from approximately the same elevated angle to create the images.”
I’ve been in the gallery all day and I find myself drifting in and out of the pictures searching for the place I’d like to be most: on the beach alone? or maybe just on a less crowded day—there, underneath one of those umbrellas.
As the sky is now overcast, I'll close up tonight with my fingers crossed with the hope that the rest of the weekend can be like what's seen in these images of Praia Piquinia.

