“I know exactly why I started to photograph, but I never knew why I became a photographer.”

Carlos once intended to be an architect. But after missing the final grade he needed, he drifted for a year, and a new perspective slowly opened up.

During that time, he was called for 18 months of mandatory military service. Evenings were completely free, so he decided to take a photography course, just to fill the hours. “I had no idea of becoming a photographer, but when the course ended, I was invited to stay as an assistant. I said yes. That was 30 years ago already.”

That’s where our paths eventually crossed. Five years later, in 1992, I began studying graphic design at IADE, the same school where Carlos was now an assistant. Classes took place either at Rua Capelo or Rua do Alecrim, inside the 17th-century Quintela Palace—an ideal setting for practical classes. My photography teacher wasn’t Carlos, but Roberto Barbosa, a giant both in his teaching and his humanity. I owe him my lifelong love for photography.

The studio sessions were limited, so whenever I could, I sneaked in, losing myself for hours with the Meopta enlargers, developing rolls from cameras my classmates lent me.

Carlos was both gatekeeper and guide to that magical world between the classroom and the lab. Whenever he chose to open the door, I would wear down his patience with endless questions. At that time, he was just taking his first professional steps—moments he recalls with special fondness. “There were several important jobs, but the first one for Marie Claire, the Portuguese edition of the women’s magazine, was the most decisive. It was the start of my career and recognition for my very first work.”

What Carlos misses most today is travelling. “Now I travel much less. But travel and photography are perfect together, and I love to travel.” Despite having photographed countless people—fashion icons and everyday faces alike, Kate Moss is the one he still regrets not capturing.

Between 1998 and 2010, Carlos ran a studio at Rua do Carmo, home to what he proudly calls “the sexiest toilet in Lisbon,” its walls covered with Polaroids of the most beautiful women who passed through. “Every pretty woman in town wanted a picture there. Sometimes they come back, now with implants or cosmetic surgeries, eager for a new snapshot.” Kate Moss’s absence won’t hurt his legacy.

Today, Carlos Ramos,  born in Lisbon’s São Sebastião da Pedreira neighborhood, continues to work from his studio at Largo do Carmo.

This portrait of Carlos was created for Enamorados por Lisboa, a program promoted by Lisbon City Council.