domingo, maio 29, 2011

they look so...

sábado, maio 28, 2011

comme ils disent

Charles Aznavour (France) - 1973

J'habite seul avec maman
Dans un très vieil appartement rue Sarasate
J'ai pour me tenir compagnie
Une tortue deux canaris et une chatte.
Pour laisser maman reposer
Très souvent je fais le marché et la cuisine
Je range, je lave, j'essuie,
A l'occasion je pique aussi à la machine.
Le travail ne me fait pas peur
Je suis un peu décorateur un peu styliste
Mais mon vrai métier c'est la nuit.
Je l'exerce en travesti, je suis artiste.
Jai un numéro très spécial
Qui finit en nu intégral après strip-tease,
Et dans la salle je vois que
Les mâles n'en croient pas leurs yeux.
Je suis un homo comme ils disent.

Vers les trois heures du matin
On va manger entre copains de tous les sexes
Dans un quelconque bar-tabac
Et là on s'en donne à cœur joie et sans complexe
On déballe des vérités
Sur des gens qu'on a dans le nez, on les lapide.
Mais on fait ça avec humour
Enrobé dans des calembours mouillés d'acide
On rencontre des attardés
Qui pour épater leurs tablées marchent et ondulent
Singeant ce qu'ils croient être nous
Et se couvrent, les pauvres fous, de ridicule
Ça gesticule et parle fort.
Ça joue les divas, les ténors de la bêtise.
Moi les lazzi, les quolibets
Me laissent froid puisque c'est vrai.
Je suis un homo comme ils disent.

A l'heure où naît un jour nouveau
Je rentre retrouver mon lot de solitude.
J'ôte mes cils et mes cheveux
Comme un pauvre clown malheureux de lassitude.
Je me couche mais ne dors pas
Je pense à mes amours sans joie si dérisoires.
A ce garçon beau comme un Dieu
Qui sans rien faire a mis le feu à ma mémoire.
Ma bouche n'osera jamais
Lui avouer mon doux secret mon tendre drame
Car l'objet de tous mes tourments
Passe le plus clair de son temps au lit des femmes
Nul n'a le droit en vérité
De me blâmer de me juger et je précise
Que c'est bien la nature qui
Est seule responsable si
Je suis un "homme oh" comme ils disent.

GARDENIA




Alain Platel & Frank Van Laecke

based on a concept of Vanessa Van Durme

created and performed by
Vanessa Van Durme
Griet Debacker
Timur Magomedgadzhiev / Hendrik Lebon
Andrea De Laet
Richard ‘Tootsie’ Dierick
Danilo Povolo
Gerrit Becker
Dirk Van Vaerenbergh
Rudy Suwyns

quinta-feira, maio 26, 2011

quarta-feira, maio 25, 2011

N

segunda-feira, maio 23, 2011

MYTHEMS @ mediated motion (NY) and direct action (BERLIN)




"…like a mirror-reflection... so that I am surrounded by me and my mind surrounds me . . . there is no escape."
– Nancy Holt in Boomerang (Richard Serra, 1974)

Exploring concepts such as Identity, Reflection and Self Replication (amongst others), MYTHEMS is an experimental video-art work which aims to be the result of a research where video is used as a form of giving back to the spectator a taste of its own existence. Exploring the use of this tool as a form of mirroring oneself and being able to accept the various individualities that are part of a whole, an individual and personal whole which boomerangs back and forward indefinitely.
Produced at the MUGATXOAN 2010 Artistic Residency (Serralves – Porto, Portugal)

Editing: Daniel Pinheiro
Genre: Video Installation

Watch Online Video Installation and more Info about the work: http://bit.ly/fpHEFD

Screenings @

La Mama Moves Dance Festival | Culturehub's Mediated Motion | [24 - 29, May 2011]
(Curated by Billy Clark and Lindsey Medeiros) - La MaMa Galleria (NYC, USA)


DirectAction2011 | Month of Performance Art | [28 - 29, May 2011]
(Curated by Marion Ritzmann and Stefan Riebel) - I.A.M. (Berlin, Germany)

domingo, maio 22, 2011

sábado, maio 21, 2011

song of myself

1
I CELEBRATE myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.

Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.

(...)


-- Walt Whitman

quinta-feira, maio 19, 2011

may i have this dance...

quarta-feira, maio 18, 2011

work


Depois de alguns meses debruçado(s) sobre o que é - ou não - ter o "Perfil Adequado" sobre determinados assuntos, nomeadamente sobre a prática de exercer o profissionalismo na área das Artes Performativas somos conduzidos, como num exercício de memória, a voltar a todo um percurso escolar onde somos avaliados em números em "abstraccionismos" que tentamos (no campo dos possíveis) fazer com que correspondam exactamente àquilo que nos foi inicialmente pedido/proposto para cumprir, sem ter nunca a certeza de estarmos efectivamente a fazê-lo correctamente, porque "nunca há certo, nem errado" mas no fim, há sempre um "certo" para certificar que aquilo que fizemos corresponde aos parâmetros estabelecidos para poder avaliar uma série de filosofias e conceitos que só se tornam palpáveis depois de estarem concluídos... Quantos perfis são necessários? Quantas vezes será necessário tentar, mostrar o perfil certo, o perfil adequado, (in)dependentemente da situação a que somos expostos?

"All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players: (...)" escrevia Shakespeare num monólogo... eu acrescento, à luz do pensamento que me tolda agora o espírito, "...merely players waiting to be casted for their roles."; O resto do monólogo mantinha-o exactamente como está, à luz do pensamento que toldava o espírito do escritor...

Não se trata de sentir que falhei. Não se trata de sentir que há injustiças sobre as quais não podemos fazer nada. Não se trata de procurar encontrar razões que validem o sentimento de incapacidade ou de inadequação (tendo em conta que estamos a falar de ter ou não o "Perfil Adequado"). TRY HARDER, FAIL BETTER vs FAIL HARDER, TRY BETTER?

"Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better. Enough." Samuel Beckett

Trata-se de sentir que não há lugares suficientes. Que não há uma vontade que hajam lugares suficientes. Que não existe uma política de discernimento prévio. Trata-se de sentir que, à semelhança, de uma necessidade de ter um "1º emprego" para poder ter o emprego que se quer, neste caso há uma necessidade de validar o esforço e a vontade (entre outros) e não, submeter estas categorias em competição com relevâncias de carreiras e currículos, que obviamente muito lutaram (de certeza) para os terem, acabando sempre por dar lugar - ainda bem que há casos de excepção - a uma mediocridade "repertorial" que se repete constantemente e que, uma ou outra vez, é ocultada por fundos de maneio que permitem o luxo de ver as validações que são feitas no estrangeiro, feitas nos locais para onde nos pedem para ir, no sentido de construir uma solidez sólida...

Obviamente digo tudo isto na minha voz e, talvez porque o sono me perturba e me induz a um estado de embriaguez, digo-o não por sentir uma injustiça solitária, mas partilhada entre os que me são próximos e os que reconheço como peças importantes num tecido cultural cada vez mais esfiapado.


possível sinopse para um espectáculo:

Este espectáculo é feito a partir do trabalho de actores que não apresentam o perfil adequado, bem como o próprio espectáculo que obteve, em 108 candidaturas, o 47º lugar na lista de selecção para os Apoios Pontuais Directos do corrente ano, não sendo considerado, pela equipa de avaliação deste concurso, um espectáculo suficientemente relevante e de interesse cultural (já para não mencionar o facto de possívelmente ter sido considerado um espectáculo com escassas possibilidades de integrar as mais variadas programações culturais do nosso país) para fazer parte do conjunto de trabalhos que anualmente enriquecem o panorama cultural nacional...

restless gus van sant

Most of the songs are about healing or dying or both


“Most of the songs are about healing or dying or both. I tried to write kind of against my normal temperament – which isn’t always very positive – and write about what I believe in, which is that nobody is ever too fucked to look the world in the eye. Even though I don’t always feel that way about myself I know it to be true. There is a trombone on one song and even some drums! And you can actually hear my voice, that is probably the biggest step up soundwise.”

segunda-feira, maio 16, 2011

sábado, maio 14, 2011

sweet mambo:




"I'd cry a river over you... now you say you're sorry..." sings Lisa Ekdahl in one of the nameless moments of Pina Baush's "Sweet Mambo" and in many of these many nameless moments I would say that it indeed 'drove me, nearly drove out of my head'... and although I didn't shed a tear I cried over the 'river' of gushing wind that perpetuated the movement of the dancers along through the white curtains that every now and then were blown away as to invite us to an abandoned house of the old black and white movies where the storms follow after a big and very bourgeois party... where if you feel misfitted you just have to try and say "brush" as if nothing was bothering you.
There is a lot to say, or that I wanted to say about this piece, talk about the dancers, about having missed Pina's "Cafe Müller", about the set, about how Cristiana Morganti made me feel at home, about how Julie Anne Stanzak made me laugh when she started to Cartwheel along the stage, about how Julie Shanahan made me go into a David Lynch movie just by her upsetting performance when she was "trying to get out of there..."... about everything! But in the end, and despite of all of the things that might be said about Pina's work (either they're good or bad), I rather prefer to keep myself in a corner, holding my champagne glass high and say "Brush!"... Everything else I will keep it for myself.

quinta-feira, maio 12, 2011

counter

01[month]:14[days]:06[hours]:28[minutes]:...

quarta-feira, maio 11, 2011

marz



'Marz was a sweet shop from my childhood. It's now empty and for sale. But I got to visit beforehand, and the woman who served me as a child was still there. They still made all their own candies and ice cream. In the song, I list all the names of the sundaes, and drinks like Green River. The song is about the gateway back to childhood and innocence, before things have become complicated.' -- John Grant

terça-feira, maio 10, 2011

frust/nation


I wanted to change the world
But I could not even change my underwear
And when the shit got really really out of hand
I had it all the way up to my hairline
Which keeps receding like my self-confidence
As if I ever had any of that stuff anyway
I hope I didn't destroy your celebration
Or your Bar Mitzvah, birthday party or your Christmas
You put me in this cage and threw away the key
It was this 'us and them' shit that did me in
You tell me that my life is based upon a lie
I casually mention that I pissed in your coffee
I hope you know that all I want from you is sex
To be with someone that looks smashing in athletic wear
And if your haircut isn't right you'll be dismissed
Get your walking papers and you can leave now

Don't know what to want from this world
I really don't know what to want from this world
I don't know what it is you wouldn't want from me
You have no right to want anything from me at all
Why don't you take it out on somebody else?
Why don't you tell somebody else that they're selfish?
Weepy coward and pathetic ...

Who's gonna be the one to save me from myself?
You'd better bring a stun gun and perhaps a crowbar
You'd better pack a lunch and get up really early
And you should probably get down on your knees and pray
It's really fun to look embarrassed all the time
Like you could never cut the mustard with the big boys
I really don't know who the fuck you think you are
Can I please see your license and your registration?

Don't know what to want from this world
I really don't know what to want from this world
I don't know what it is you wouldn't want from me
You have no right to want anything from me at all
Why don't you take it out on somebody else?
Why don't you tell somebody else that they're selfish?
Weepy coward and pathetic ...

So Jesus hasn't come in here to pick you up
You'll still be sitting here ten years from now
You're just a sucker but we'll see who gets the last laugh
Who knows, maybe you'll be the next queen of Denmark.

John Grant, "Queen of Denmark"

segunda-feira, maio 09, 2011

the problem of "misfitting"

The Misfits (1961)

We're all misfits at certain moments of our lives, either it's because we don't "fit" in certain occasions or just because the environment doesn't "fit" us somehow. Generally this feeling or (i'll try to call it) behaviour is tending to grow exponentially accompanying the growth of incertitude that is becoming more and more present in our lives.
The problem of misfitting is related to the subject of having "elephants" floating in our rooms like those metal foil balloons - that we can easily find everytime the crowds get together to celebrate something very national, very important for their own countries, for themselves, to celebrate something that is a reminder of our duties as citizens of this world and the scheduled obligations for celebrations - and also related to an illusion (or illusions) that "yet it remains" and that have to do with a perpetuation of dreams and promises that never arrive and that slowly take a real shape of frustrations and problems we do not yet know how to deal with them.
Like one of the actresses of "THERE'S AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM" says "Are you, ok?" (trans. "Estás bem?!") is just a form of expression nobody wants to answer anymore (or most of the people...) it's just a way of going through eachother in the middle of a crowded, yet silent, world. "Who should we rebel against?" is another of the questions they set in their performance, in which - metaphorically - the main role fits a giant elephant foot crossing a (perfect) doll's bathroom, and that "yet to know" answer is blured and pixeled away by the images of the argentine marines arriving at the La Boca Port (Buenos Aires, Argentina) in Márcio Laranjeira's Short Movie "YET IT REMAINS"... where the story of an older woman that tells us the adventures of this first natural port filled with poems and love stories reminds us of all the illusions we set for ourselves and how, even if they don't become what we first thought they would be, they can appease this feeling of misfitting... We're all clowns and strange characters constantly suffering of misfitted labels that in the end become shattered tears of the things we don't know how to say (and yet we try) and of the illusions that remain forever as the first time we illusioned them...
Thank you both, for such a great weekend!

-----------------------------------------------------

NOTE:
misfit definition
mis·fit (mis fit′, mis′fit′; for n. mis′fit′)
transitive verb, intransitive verb misfitted -·fit′·ted, misfitting -·fit′·ting
to fit badly
noun
1. the act or condition of misfitting
2. anything that misfits, as a badly fitting garment
3. a person not suited to a job, associates, etc.; maladjusted person

>as it is a transitive verb it means that it's just a matter of time...

“Lynchian” New Organic Coffee...

David Lynch Signature Cup Coffee from David Lynch on Vimeo.

back to basics with Almodóvar

Irma Gonzalez


IndieLisboa'11

weekend (*there's an elephant in every room)

3. Este fim-de-semana, dois amigos do Porto estão a ficar em minha casa. Volta e meia arranjam tempo para me visitar e já conhecem de cor e salteado o funcionamento da minha casa. E se há coisa que nunca tive em casa foi um secador de cabelo. Eu nunca acreditei na utilidade desse objecto e sempre deixei o meu cabelo secar naturalmente, mesmo no Inverno. Assim, qual não foi o espanto do Daniel, quando eu lhe disse: “Olha, tens ali o secador se quiseres!, apontando para um compartimento do armário da casa de banho. Ele ficou estupefacto. Já não vinha a Lisboa desde 2010, o que teria mudado tão drasticamente? Vi-me na obrigação de lhe dar uma explicação: no final de 2010, fui ao cabeleireiro (e aprendo sempre uma coisa nova sempre que vou ao cabeleireiro). Pois bem, disseram-me que o couro cabeludo, sobretudo no Inverno, demora horas a secar, por vezes até vinteequatrohoras!! E o nosso couro cabeludo é ultra sensível, é das primeiras partes do corpo a ressentir-se do stress, tal como aprendi posteriormente noutra ida ao cabeleireiro, quando me examinavam um surto súbito de caspa. Assim, uma das minhas primeiras aquisições em 2011 tinha sido o dito secador e agora, quando tenho visitas em casa, ninguém fica a sofrer (nem eu própria!) do temível BAD HAIR DAY.
(retirado de "THERE'S AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM" (Notes) do Colectivo SophieMarie)

+

La Ilusión Te Queda (Yet It Remains) de Francisco Lezama, Márcio Laranjeira (IndieLisboa'11)

sexta-feira, maio 06, 2011

off

oprah iconizes... as the vatican sainthoods

quarta-feira, maio 04, 2011

[done] (vídeo não institucional)


by David Pinheiro Silva

on human gods

Whoever you are holding me now in hand,
Without one thing all will be useless,
I give you fair warning, before you attempt me further,
I am not what you supposed, but far different.


Who is he that would become my follower?
Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections? Are you he?

The way is suspicious — the result slow, uncertain, may-be destructive;
You would have to give up all else — I alone would expect to be your God, sole and exclusive,

Your novitiate would even then be long and exhausting,
The whole past theory of your life, and all conformity to the lives around you, would have to be abandoned;

Therefore release me now, before troubling yourself any further — Let go your hand from my shoulders,

Put me down, and depart on your way.



Walt Whitman, Calamus poem 3, Leaves of Grass.

server(s)


“In periods of rapid personal change, we pass through life as though we are spellcast. We speak in sentences that end before finishing. We sleep heavily because we need to ask so many questions as we dream alone. We bump into others and feel bashful at recognizing souls so similar to ourselves.”
— Douglas Coupland

segunda-feira, maio 02, 2011

rehearsals

domingo, maio 01, 2011

the end...

Seguidores