Paulistano, son of a Portuguese father and a Hungarian mother, Edgard Rocha arrived in Maranhão in 1971 as a film assistant. Three years later, he moved permanently to the land, which he never left. He was absent for only three years, during the military dictatorship, when he lived in France and worked with lithography at the Atelier Art du Livre, of the Paris city hall. His first camera was the one forgotten by a Japanese photographer in his father's taxi, arousing the boy's curiosity. His aesthetic training went through the fine arts school, cinema and graphic arts, which he studied at the Liceu de Artes e Ofícios and at Galeria Ca'Pesaro, in Venice, where he arrived through the Italian graphics with whom he worked in São Paulo. In art or photography, his interest has always been in the incidence of light. In his long trajectory from Maranhão, Edgar traveled through the interior, registered the cultural heritage like no one else, portrayed masters in their crafts, especially navigators and naval carpenters, recovered historical images, dialogued with the landscapes and immensities that are so present in this north of Brazil. Many outsiders pass through his studio, who arrive eager to discover this still so mysterious piece of Brazil. Edgar is a great and generous host, he takes us to his favorite places and infects us with his shrewd eyes. His work shows two very striking characteristics: the warm amber light, which brings us closer to the captured image. And a fascination for the knowledge, traditions and way of being of black people in Maranhão, which he records in an intimate and truly loving way. There is a lot of conversation behind each image… His photographic act is nourished by the stories he hears, especially those that denote the wisdom brought by the experience, but also those that reveal a dreamlike vision of the world around: … the city that there are no angels because it is very windy… … the boat that must be crooked to stay straight in the water… … the blind boy who saw the wind, but wanted to see the letter… … the sky that is brother to the sea… one navigates looking at the sky more than anything… … the depth of the waters perceived by the roar on the hull of the vessel… … the child who cries early in August of wind, he warns navigators not to go out to sea… … the sea belongs to everyone, the land has an owner… More than forty years have passed and this land still instigates and enchants him. Edgar's Maranhão is pure affection. Paula Porta curator December, 2017