The rough magic of Porto

If my city were a fabric, it would be as rough as its fishermen and as thick as their flannels. It would be an old fabric, I believe, yet as impeccably preserved as the façades of our churches. Every seam would be flawlessly finished so that no one could ever mistake it for any other. We take pride in being one-of-a-kind. Blue would have to be the main colour – to match our adored football club’s strip – and the patterns would add fun and provocation. If possible, they would mock one of our rivals.

To understand Porto is to recognise this in the faces of the simple men who roam the city. Serious men, yet full of sarcasm, constantly sharing stories with friends and strangers alike that reveal what it means to belong here.

Years ago, during a TV interview with an FC Porto player, a reporter I worked with asked the young man what his coach’s words of encouragement had been. The reply has stayed with me: “He thinks I might fail to become the best in the world… so I’d better have a good explanation for my mother when I get home.” It wasn’t a joke.

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Porto’s genetic material begins with this demanding fibre: a “so what?” attitude toward the rest of the world. It’s often mistaken for presumption but is rooted in a popular culture that treats winning as an obligation rather than a mere goal. Always with grace, though, because we also hate taking ourselves too seriously.

Without realising it, most of us grew up with this mindset. In 1987, when my primary-school teacher called us to the window to watch local athlete Rosa Mota running by, we were being taught something though we didn’t yet know what. Every day she would pass in front of the school and we applauded; a year later, she won the Olympic marathon gold medal. To this day, I’m still impressed by how this woman understood her role in the community, only by showing that she was one of us.

Just 50m from her house, two Pritzker prize-winning architects now live: Álvaro Siza Vieira and Eduardo Souto de Moura. What are the odds of a small city like Porto having two Pritzker laureates on the same square? I can only assume their mothers didn’t give them much room to fail either.

They were responsible, along with a handful of others, for the Porto School, a movement that became known in the mid-’90s for an aesthetic approach that primarily uses hard, solid materials to create imposing geometric forms in harmony with the environment. Curiously enough, the same definition could apply to the men from the north of Portugal: tough, straightforward, facing nature with no taste for ornament or superfluity.

Both of these starchitects could have set up studios anywhere in the world, but they chose to stay in this seaside neighbourhood. Souto de Moura is its perfect embodiment: despite his talent, his knowledge and his worldliness, he slips into Porto slang whenever he gets the chance.

In Porto there are two kinds of survivors: those who succeed in their work and those with a sharp sense of humour. How else would Josh Olins, the photographer who shot these images, convince a salty dog from Angeiras to don pink plastic glasses?

This trait is especially irritating to outsiders. In Lisbon, to name the main enemy outright, nothing bothers people more than the locals’ penchant for ribbing. Which, of course, only makes our urge even stronger. In his maiden speech as mayor of the city 12 years ago, Rui Moreira – the first independent politician to be mayor of a major Portuguese city – summed it up perfectly: “Portugal has always had the Porto it deserves and the Porto it needs.”

Nothing illustrates it better than the nickname our people carry: tripeiros (literally, “tripe eaters”). Legend has it that in the 15th century, when Portugal was preparing its fleet to conquer Ceuta, the people of Porto gave all the meat they had to the sailors, keeping only the tripe for themselves. Over time, the act of sacrifice became a source of pride.

If my city were a fabric, it would be as tough as its fishermen and as gentle as the rest of us, who love it defensively and deeply.

Casting, Joana Castro. Hair, Cim Mahony using Dyson Beauty. Photographer’s assistants, Julius Bauer and Christian Rinke. Stylist’s assistant, Nicolò Pablo Venerdì Bettiol. Production, Snowberry and MMXX Artists. Post-production, Jon Hempstead. Special thanks to Câmara Municipal do Porto, Carmencita Lab, Tuna de Engenharia da Universidade do Porto, Rancho Folclórico da Afurada, Futebol Clube do Porto, Academia de Danças e Cantares Norte de Portugal, Infraestruturas de Portugal, Real Companhia Velha, Tours Never 2 Much and Marlene Soares. Shot at Angeiras, Afurada, Matosinhos, Piscina das Marés, Matosinhos Sport and Ribeira do Porto