●           When I turned 18, I rushed to join the Left Bloc. It was a cry of autonomy from my family and schoolmates, and a way of giving consequence to the political awareness that had grown especially since the second referendum on the decriminalisation of abortion (2007). The party, which encompassed various movements and causes around a classical yet pluralist Marxist core, seemed to me — and still seems — the only truly fluid political space that does not betray the ideological line, not given to entrenchment, with all the good and bad that entails. I was also drawn to its ambitious attempt to synthesise tendencies, causes and individual freedoms (non‑economic liberalism) — what would later be called intersectionality. The party earned media space through sheer effort, with irreverence and provocation, even rebelliousness, but always backed by human rights, science and academia, from where many of its prominent figures came. Over the years, I have come to consider this aesthetic approach (think of a very young Mariana Mortágua facing down bankers and CEOs in parliamentary inquiry committees, or Fernando Rosasʼs presidential campaign, «Smoking Drills») one of the most solid reasons for my «formal» adherence to Marxism — and it is far from a frivolous reason.

                    However, this militancy was entirely silent, non‑practising. Especially during the Troika years, when the movement seemed to fragment increasingly. It took the Geringonça (2015-19) — that moment which perhaps represented the last echo of hope from the 25th of April (Carnation Revolution, 1974) — to make me feel compelled to wear the shirt, to lose the fear of being identified, to understand the urgency of abandoning any comfortable stronghold of neutrality, and to want to play some role. I went looking for the comrades in Viseu. Curiously, a party not given to entrenchment, essentially metropolitan, had in Viseu a considerable group of activists, a headquarters in a well‑located old building, and an energetic and very distinctive activity, quite autonomous from the national line — all of this in a deeply conservative town in the northern interior.

                    I already knew Sementeira (meaning sowing, seedtime or seedbed) from my visits to Viseu during the long holidays. The party headquarters, the entire first floor of an old charming building in front of the statue of King Duarte, opened up to the community for two weeks in July: on the walls, hanging from the ceiling or on plinths, artworks for all sensibilities, by very diverse artists. In a storage room on the ground floor, open to the street, which the landlord made available on these occasions, there were rap or doom metal concerts, or open jam sessions; in the afternoon, the space gave way to creative workshops — moulding clay, group poetry writing — or choreographic performances and talks. «Doing my part» in the Left Bloc, I quickly realised, did not necessarily entail the discipline of becoming a leader or candidate, and I gladly accepted the invitation to take part in building this project. It was 2017, the year of the fifth edition of Sementeira.

                    Sementeira is a multidisciplinary festival, deeply community‑oriented, without sponsorships or public funding, organised by Left Bloc Viseu. It was born out of conviction and volunteerism, with complete autonomy from the national leadership, from activists who decided to take advantage of such a powerful asset as a spacious headquarters in the historic centre to promote the talent of the cityʼs creatives, artists and artisans — and from wherever they came, we never barred an application from other geographies. All framed within a neighbourhood party atmosphere, with exhibitions, concerts, an author objects fair and political debate.

                    The call for submissions of works or performances is made to the community months in advance, as is the invitation to participate in the organisation. We have never restricted access to party members or supporters, nor demanded professionalism, nor set themes. Curation is collective: on the walls and in the hours of Sementeira, works produced with very different techniques, sensibilities and experiences coexist. The mission is to publicise the work of artists — who are not paid monetarily, but whom we provide with meals and, for those coming from afar, accommodation. The targets are self‑censorship and self‑isolation, common symptoms in weak creative ecosystems such as Viseuʼs. Perhaps because of this, in a city with an insipid cultural life and little openness to local talent (especially emerging talent), participation has always grown. For Sementeira to fulfil its purpose of celebrating difference and taking the centre by the margins, every year there is an effort to involve people and more or less informal collectives who identify with urban tribes that lack exposure. Sementeira is also a broad coalition of minority and marginalised sensibilities.

                    The organisational work is 100% activist — not necessarily in the party, but subscribing to each editionʼs manifesto and the cultural cause. Despite everyoneʼs particular skills, we all end up accumulating tasks, according to needs. And of course, all decisions go through democratic processes. The work of identity and graphic communication — if it can be called that — has fallen to me and the Cooperativa Artística Cabanões Cardoso since the 5th edition. Since we continue to do it nine years later, passing through that rigorous democratic filter, it must be being done well.

                    We understand the eventʼs image more as a broad graphic universe, with multiple possible combinations, than as a fixed, rule‑bound corporate identity. Continuity between editions is ensured more by attitude than by specific graphics — except for the Left Bloc logo or the mascot symbol, whose design is also revised over time. This is our artistic contribution to Sementeiraʼs programme: it bears our personal mark, it is a bit like our exhibition wall, but it is also part of the programme. Sementeiraʼs image, the way it unfolds at each stage, is a work‑in‑progress and a programme‑in‑the‑making, whether in social media posts or in objects of urban communication such as stickers, flyers, stencils, posters.

                    Not always immediately legible, it is a message that lends itself to being deciphered — but it is not inaccessible for that. It aims to tear through the torpor of the rest of Viseuʼs urban communication, to provoke, to subvert. This insolence, this emancipatory cry, is unique in the landscape and identification has become instantaneous. We do not resort to the usual graphic lexicon of the wonderful visual history of Marxist parties. The idea is always: how to kindle a spark of Cultural Revolution without resorting to worn‑out or orthodox symbols? In a haphazard way, we try to forge our own imaginary. Over the years, we have also incorporated contributions from other artists into our processes.