quinta-feira, março 29, 2012

missed feelings...longing


interacting with pre-recorded audio, building a dialogue between song and perfomer

as part of the IDENTITY PROJECT - on going

screen-test / gift


if you weren't there...

the artist is [still] present.


next: One Day in the Life of Robert Wilson's The Life and Death of Marina Abramovic


Daniel Pinheiro suggested by Flávio Rodrigues



We believe that a man’s style is something that derives from his own personality, not from ephemeral “trends”.

We enjoy opinionated men. Men with a sense of purpose and a soul. Smart, intelligent and creative; men with ideas and ideology. Men who are their own men, who don’t fit others’ standards.



We don’t believe in negativity.

We believe in revolution.

the face

sábado, março 24, 2012

quarta-feira, março 21, 2012



In his essay,“Is There Love in the Telematic Embrace?” (1990), Ascott attempted to attribute to electronic art the potential to embody love. Mindful of the schism between utopian and dystopian perspectives on technology and the future with respect to art, Ascott addressed a common concern amongst critics of electronic art: the fear that technology would overwhelm and dehumanize the arts, a last bastion of humanist values. If it could be shown that telematic art had the potential to embody love, then it would not be a paradox for art to be electronic and simultaneously serve humanist principles.

In constructing his argument, Ascott strategically opposed seemingly incompatible ontologies. His Fourieran description of love as passionate attraction implied a universal, transcendental principle in dynamic interplay with the apparent contingencies of love regarding history, gender, and culture, and between love manifested in physical presence as opposed to telepresence. While maintaining an ostensibly unconditional principle of love and promoting collaborative emergence, Ascott characterized his project in Derridean terms as “pure electronic différence” - one rife with “uncertainty” and “instability.”

read more here

domingo, março 18, 2012


you are the crowd... and you fund!

In the last year alone, money troubles have pushed the New Mexico Symphony to close, New York City Opera to slash its budget by two-thirds and the State of Kansas to eliminate all public financing for the arts. 
read more

quarta-feira, março 14, 2012

this weekend

gay roles/labels

talk to my a$$gency

terça-feira, março 13, 2012

american rebel

segunda-feira, março 12, 2012


Lately reading about the future of video in performing arts and its importance, and having seen this show made me think (again) about its capacity of building dreams as movies do. "LABOFILM &1: O LAMENTO DA BRANCA DE NEVE" works upon the subject of "Snow White" inspired by Portuguese director João Cesar Monteiro's "Branca de Neve" and de Robert Walser's poem "Schneewittchen"; building an ongoing live performance where both performers (spanish choregrapher Olga Mesa and Sara Vaz) are what they themselves call 'operator bodies' of going through the whole imaginary story in an hysteric fairy tale environment playing a hide and seek game of mirrors that spectators cannot see and that in the (half) end one realizes is the script of a live-video performance where secrets are unveiled and unseen features complete the live choreography.
There's more to read and research about the Spanish choreographer that achieves 20 years of her career with this project presented in Portugal last weekend as part of "Guimarães, Capital Europeia da Cultura 2012".

my american dream

66. I Dream’d in a Dream

I DREAM’D in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of the earth;
I dream’d that was the new City of Friends;
Nothing was greater there than the quality of robust love—it led the rest;
It was seen every hour in the actions of the men of that city,
And in all their looks and words.

Walt Whitman (1819–1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.

domingo, março 11, 2012


sexta-feira, março 09, 2012

On a Week with Marilyn

My Week With Marilyn”, was my farewell and welcome back movie seen up the skies while travelling from NY to my hometown in Portugal (Porto). In the middle of all the despair, and an ocean of tears underneath me I decided that I might as well see the movie which I didn’t had any expectations on. I saw the trailer several times in movie theatres in NY and Michelle Williams portrayal of such an American Icon didn’t impressed me that much… at least in the trailer. I was happy to watch every minute of it, and somehow unplug myself from all the thoughts that wondered in my mind at that time. Now, that I write about it, I think that what stroke me the must was the ability to build a biopic about someone so huge in terms of presence and secrecy – someone that iconized what women should be for an eternity, either we like or not, either we agree on that or not.
Being Marilyn was probably not an easy task, and becoming her was a great challenge that Williams respected in her own way, finding within her ability of becoming someone else, becoming this problematic human being that was wrapped in herself and what comes out in this portrayal is the constant need to overcome a low self-esteem that was in fact – once again, probably – one of her most huge barriers easily hidden beneath a shell of erotic capital that threw men at their feet and that made every spectator to fall in love with her, with every role she was playing… The individual was a sum of all that, and inside a constant crave for attention and approval was what threw her into the abyss, as so many others plunged in…

The movie reminded of one time in Theater school I decided that I could portray her while reading a poem dedicated to her death, a poem that wrapped in itself all the agony of being her, written by Portuguese author, Ruy Belo.

Morreu a mais bela mulher do mundo
tão bela que não só era assim bela
como mais que chamar-lhe marilyn
devíamos mas era reservar apenas para ela
o seco sóbrio simples nome de mulher
em vez de marilyn dizer mulher
Não havia no fundo em todo o mundo outra mulher
mas ingeriu demasiados barbitúricos
uma noite ao deitar-se quando se sentiu sozinha
ou suspeitou que tinha errado a vida
ela de quem a vida a bem dizer não era digna
e que exibia vida mesmo quando a suprimia
Não havia no mundo uma mulher mais bela mas
essa mulher um dia dispôs do direito
ao uso e ao abuso de ser bela
e decidiu de vez não mais o ser
nem doravante ser sequer mulher
O último dos rostos que mostrou era um rosto de dor
um rosto sem regresso mais que rosto mar
e toda a confusão e convulsão que nele possa caber
e toda a violência e voz que num restrito rosto
possa o máximo mar intensamente condensar
Tomou todos os tubos que tinha e não tinha
e disse à governanta não me acorde amanhã
estou cansada e necessito de dormir
estou cansada e é preciso eu descansar
Nunca ninguém foi tão amado como ela
nunca ninguém se viu envolto em semelhante escuridão
Era mulher era a mulher mais bela
mas não há coisa alguma que fazer se certo dia
a mão da solidão é pedra em nosso peito
Perto de marilyn havia aqueles comprimidos
seriam solução sentiu na mão a mãe
estava tão sozinha que pensou que a não amavam
que todos afinal a utilizavam
que viam por trás dela a mais comum imagem dela
a cara o corpo de mulher que urge adjectivar
mesmo que seja bela o adjectivo a empregar
que em vez de ver um todo se decida dissecar
analisar partir multiplicar em partes
Toda a mulher que era se sentiu toda sozinha
julgou que a não amavam todo o tempo como que parou
quis ser atá ao fim coisa que mexe coisa viva
um segundo bastou foi só estender a mão
e então o tempo sim foi coisa que passou.

Ruy Belo

quarta-feira, março 07, 2012

terça-feira, março 06, 2012


sábado, março 03, 2012

scripted wars

This work is structured around a central question: How does war construct specific positions for individuals to fill, enact, speak from, or resist?

Andrea Geyer, Sharon Hayes, Ashley Hunt, Katya Sander, and David Thorne, “9 Scripts from a Nation at War” (2007): details: “Veteran: I am thinking I should put on my uniform” (left); “Source: I couldn’t write about it. I just couldn’t” (lower right). Video, 40 min. 2 sec./45 min. Installation view, The Museum of Modern Art, New York.