Life is not measured by the amount of times you breathe but by the amount of times that they take your breath away. (George Carlin)
A vida não é medida pela quantidade de vezes que respiramos, mas pelos momentos que nos tiram a respiração.
Claudio Diet (http://www.blog-filho.blogspot.com/) pays an enormous tribute to my (past) work.
It’s really moving to see the flashes and crashes of a collage
of things that I’ve written and staged. I’m in a bit of a shock.
That was an FYI (For Your Information, For Your Improvement or For Your Ignorance), or for your eyes only.
In England, Gordon Brown calls a country woman a “bigot”
Here’s the tape:
Poor Brown. All colors are rather shadowy in this forthcoming election. Labour’s election campaign was in disarray yesterday after the “Prime Minister on hold” was forced to apologize to a pensioner and lifelong party supporter whom he had described as “a bigoted woman” for questioning him over the scale of immigration from eastern Europe.
In the US, after days of resistance, Senate Republicans – “Fyied” – agreed to let Democrats open debate on a bill to regulate the financial system. “Senate Republicans”!!!! I’ve always wondered what goes on in their heads. They advocate for a republic. Strange, whereas the Democrats advocate for a democracy. If we live in a limbo, neither, either of the two, which would be the party that truly represents this system???? Arizonism? AriZonaism? Arizo-zionism? Of do we live in an eternal FYI? Hmm.
The photo posted above has been circulating around the world. It appeared in the New York Times as well as in the Guardian and all other European and Asian publications. Yes, my ass. My arse. My mule. It now seems part of History.
“Which History?”, you might ask. The history of Rio de Janeiro’s Municipal Theater: the so called, Rio Opera House. It’s a majestic building and it was projected by Emperor Don Pedro in the 1800 + something. Oh yes, Don Pedro went all the way to see Richard Wagner, in Bayreuth. And his mission was to com-mission a new opera: based on love, the impossible love: Tristan and Isolde.
Yes, Wagner’s Tristan was paid for with Brazilian money. Strange, you might say. But this is a fact. Brazil, in fact, owns the rights to one of the famous operas ever composed (Wagner ended up opening the piece himself, both in Dresden and in Munich because Brazil was too slow to build its theater). Brazil is slow. That hasn’t changed.
So, I was booed. But this was not the reason why I mooned the audience.
Who might have been sitting in that vast audience? The theater sits 2.500
But you could swear that there must have been over 3.000 people there, on that cold August day, the day when Haroldo de Campos died.
I was in a state of rage. I was in a state of complete let down. His death to me was almost like a personal let down to me. I was left in a state of abandonment. I was left in a state of ZERO percent.
The richest one percent, an imaginary figure. One percent is imperceptible to the human eye, ear, all of our senses. The richest people of this country own half our country’s wealth, five trillion dollars. This is a strange thought.
One third of that comes from hard work. Is there work which isn’t hard?
Yes, there’s easy work. There certainly is that. But what is it? Please, someone tell me what that would be.
Two thirds of the richest people come from inheritance, interest on interest, and interesting interest on interesting interest. That, if you add the percentage that goes to accumulating to widows and idiotic sons, turns out to be a Mount Sinai of sins and signs.
The news, on TV, printed press or the internet, must – absolutely must, be BAD news: war, no peace, famine, upheaval, the price per paper clip, or clipping the oil clip.
Quantos construíram um vocabulário teatral?
How many artists have actually built a theatrical vocabulary?
Quantos sequer “pensaram” sua arte?
How many have actually thought art in a philosophical or existential manner?
Estamos sendo traídos pelo sistema: talvez seja hora de pararmos de nos acusar uns aos outros e pensarmos na CENA de ORIGEM. Sim, aquela que os filósofos invocam quando têm de enfrentar a GRANDE CRISE, ou melhor, GRANDE ARTE, ou seja: a morte!
We’ve been betrayed by our systems. All systems. Who knows, perhaps or maybe or somehow….a word that hasn’t actually been coined or scorned yet will make us think of the genesis of things. All things. I mean, apart from the FYI’s, we should rethink art as the GREATEST form Of ART itself. Not as a fearful act of expression, but as an act of eternal transgression.
And that’s a huge question.
I’ll leave it up to Hamlet to solve.
29 April 2010