Monthly Archives: February 2016

Sergue ! 82 anos , com R$ 76 na conta, passando fome! .

Folha de S Paulo, ILUSTRADA 

Com R$ 76 na conta, cantor Serguei passa dificuldades

ANNA VIRGINIA BALLOUSSIER

ENVIADA ESPECIAL A SAQUAREMA (RJ)

Expectativa: Serguei faz o que pode para se tornar uma lenda viva. Até transformar o casarão de dois andares onde mora em Saquarema (litoral do Rio) num museu, o Templo do Rock. Com boca e alma de Mick Jagger, deitou na cama para fazer sua fama. Em 2013, desfilou no Sambódromo com a camisa “Eu Comi a Janis Joplin”.

Até hoje, aos 82, gaba-se: conhece Janis de outros Carnavais. Mais precisamente o de 1970, quando a levou para a boate Porão 73. Ela, descalça, por pouco não foi barrada -o segurança a tomou como mendiga. Alcione e Tony Tornado estavam naquela noite.

Serguei

Serguei


Na terça (23), “O Globo” noticiou que o roqueiro passa fome. No mesmo dia, a Folha foi recepcionada por ele com braços abertos e geladeira vazia. “Tenho R$ 76 no banco”, diz. Recebe R$ 880 de aposentadoria, mais R$ 1.200 da Prefeitura de Saquarema para manter seu museu, num terreno doado pelo município em 2006 -para visitá-lo, basta chegar lá, não há cobrança de entrada.Realidade: a casa não caiu, mas mofou. O Templo do Rock acumulou limo por anos. Dias atrás, amigos rasparam as partes mais deterioradas por infiltrações e tascaram tinta por cima -como na parede acima da cama onde Serguei dorme em travesseiros de oncinha, sob a guarda do painel do Jim Morrison (que, ele jura, já passou a mão em sua bunda).

Parte do orçamento vai para suplementos vitamínicos como Prosso e Centrum. O artista está com “pulmão e garganta ruins”, diz o produtor André Kaveira, 52. “O software é de 27, mas o hardware é de 82. Está debilitado, não consegue cantar. Ele vai pagar o maior mico se arrumarmos um show.”

O bolso também dói. A dívida na padaria chega a R$ 500. De café, Coca-Cola e pão com margarina. “Vou levando.”

Sai do quarto com bata florida e o jeans rasgado (trocou “pelas calças de um hippie” cinco décadas atrás). Bufa, impaciente com o iPhone usado para gravar a entrevista.

Folha – Tá tudo bem, Serguei?

Serguei – Isto [aponta para o aparelho] é uma idiotice! Sua geração descobriu essa babaquice. São os olhos nos olhos que importam.

Os dele, bem azuis e encobertos pela cabeleira, têm resquícios de anos de maquiagem pesada. O homem que no passado vislumbrava um futuro mais “transviado” e “psicodélico”, cantando sobre sua “calça apertadinha” em “As Alucinações de Serguei”, assume ter um probleminha com o presente. Isso ele deixa claro no primeiro minuto de conversa.

Como você está, Serguei?

Mais ou menos. Esta geração de agora, nunca vi geração tão sem cor. Deus me livre, os caras cortam o cabelo todo arrumadinho, bando de idiotas. A gente fez uma revolução para chegar a esta bosta?

Por uma hora e meia, ele recorda a vida “a.B.”, “antes da Bosta”. Já nos anos 1950, Sérgio Augusto Bustamante, filho de técnico da IBM e dona de casa, usava batom roxo e beijava meninos em público. Em 1966, a revista “Intervalo” publicou reportagem sobre o rapaz que protestou pelo “direito de ser jovem e lindo”.

Serguei (apelido dado por um amigo russo incapaz de pronunciar seu nome) foi comissário de bordo da Panair. Nesse vaivém internacional, conheceu a emergente cultura beatnik -que teria pautado seu comportamento ao longo da vida. Acabou demitido por derrubar sangria numa passageira, a atriz italiana Gina Lollobrigida (“A Mulher Mais Bela do Mundo”).

Seu voo foi mesmo no rock, onipresente na casa onde vive na companhia dos vira-latas Joelma, Elis e Fiuk. Próxima a um quadro de Serguei com asas de anjo, uma foto dele com Jimi Hendrix e Janis -o “affair” que “gostava de comer biscoito à noite”, lembra. “Já acordei e gritei ‘Jesus fucking Christ’. O corpo dela estava coberto de farelos!”

Serguei lamenta que o rock tenha perdido espaço entre os jovens. “‘Sertanojo’ é uma coisa pavorosa, é gente com muito dinheiro -uns tais de ‘Teteca e Titico’- que paga para aparecer na TV.”

Da tríade “sexo, drogas e rock ‘n’ roll”, o primeiro foi o que mais pegou na imagem projetada por Serguei. No passado, diz, até garoto de programa foi. “Tenho alma de puta, mas [o ofício] nunca me dominou.” Hoje, se está cabisbaixo, amigos o levam à boate gay Le Boy. Em casa, recebe visitas de garotões como o “22” -referência à idade “do bofinho” para quem disse: “Realmente não sou tão grande, mas você tem que respeitar o quanto eu sou sexy”.

Para Kaveira, Serguei “caiu no folclore” quando deu entrevistas contando que transa com árvores -um cajueiro em particular. Ele produz uma trilogia para mostrar mais facetas desse dinossauro do rock (dez anos a mais que Mick Jagger): “O Último Beatnik” (ficção com Eriberto Leão, que fez Jim Morrison no teatro), a chanchada “100 Anos de Sacanagem” e “Fícicodelia”, documentário com nome que funde “ficção e psicodelia”.

Algo bem no espírito de Serguei, diz o amigo. “Em alguns momentos, o cara não vai saber se aquilo aconteceu mesmo ou se foi uma viagem.” 

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Umberto Eco dead.

 

Umberto Eco

Umberto Eco

Umberto Eco, 1932-2016

I find it beyond absurd to associate Umberto Eco with his greatest success, The Name of the Rose. Or, perhaps (who is to tell?) he might have wanted it so. I remember him so very vividly from a debate, back in the early 1980’s, at New York University, introduced and mediated by Susan Sontag. There were masses of people there to hear him speak but Susan wouldn’t let him. We all laughed. He laughed. She kept on interrupting him and going off and branching off and flowing off into analogies just as she was so brilliant at. And he sat and watched.

What is she saying?”, he must have thought?

What is he thinking?”, we all thought.

And she would talk about Barthes and the entire French Semiotics movement (by which we all mean, Michel Foucault, Roland Barthes himself, Jean Baudrillard and so on….). And Eco was rarely given a chance to echo his voice.

But once he started it was really amusing!

Only last week I boarded a plane at Bologna airport and – quite honestly – it was hard to look at that University and not to associate it with Eco. I had no idea he was ill.

Yes, about “Foucault’s Pendulum”: I bought it fresh from the shelves but could not read it. I mean…. It begins with a huge amount of pages in Hebrew and I…..(never mind)…And, yes, I must confess my young and silly snobbism regarding “The Name of The Rose” when I saw it being sold at SLOAN’S (A supermarket chain in New York) in all its golden glossy cover, next to self help books, carpentry and gardening stuff. Yes, strange but a brilliant strategy.

Yet, when the film came out with Connery in the title role playing none other than Jorge Luis Borges – the blind librarian – and all that Tower of Babel like, “Monty Pythony” barbarism centered on the man of the million languages who gets burned to death, EUREKA!

That is when Eco struck as lightening strikes in the way that Calvino never did and so on.

Fuck. People die. I just can’t accept it, that’s all.

Gerald Thomas.

Umberto Eco

Umberto Eco

 

 

 

 

 

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Taking a beating …and more roasting of a Flemish…

 

 

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Roasting a Flemish Painter + Images of Venice + Henry Moore in Hyde Park !

 

 

 

 

Fear in Firenze

 

 

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YOU MUST SEE THIS !!! Voce precisa ver isso !!! (Sara Baras)

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VIVA A MANGUEIRA !!!

ACABARAM-SE    

TODOS OS PROBLEMAS:

a   MANGUEIRA

GANHOU !!!!!

(E COM A BETHANIA!) (agora…relaxem!!!!!)

Brasil : fique frio ! Esqueçam da miséria , da porra da corrupção , da Zika (mas não da Dona Zica) , da MERDA geral há 500 anos : a Mangueira venceu !!! Agora , se o Flamengo ganhar (com o Caetano marcando GOL !!! Imagine só !!) o Tropicalismo estará de pé ! E… Nossa !! aí sim, acabou a CRISE!!!!!!

Meu mestre e amigo, Ivo Meirelles (chorei de alegria daqui, do outro lado do mundo)

Meu mestre e amigo, Ivo Meirelles (chorei de alegria daqui, do outro lado do mundo)

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Fauna and Flora (a travesty of Italian beauty) Last bit of my play…..

 

From Black Olive Branches…

Defendant starts walking sideways. Faster and faster.

SCREAMS

SEX !!! (walking sideways. Faster and faster.)

Can’t talk about it anymore.

Have done so much of it !!!!

I wonder if the exhibition of it …

And the ruffling of it….the leaves of the revolution are more important than its principles…or… taking arms against a sea of troubles and…

Hamlet was impotent. I just realized that. Poor prince. Poor Shakespeare. I just realized that !

I CAN and will demonstrate to all of you how sex is performed.

(and he does a performance of it)

But is that it?

A performance?

Sergey?

Sergey?

You there?

Do you know how many people have asked this question? In everyday life? In…. books? In the theater? In philosophy? In…. LIFE? With each new generation ….this question is asked and …

….yes, a performance just like EVERY thing else we do:

when we kiss…

when we eat for pleasure ….

and when we say we believe in God.

We say we worship.

What? A god? A cunt? A dick? An asshole? Chaucer?

Boccaccio? Dante?

Really ? I learned so much in that Guetto ! What was it ? forgot.

But we DO look at a half naked Jesus! Correction ! A NAKED Jesus. All sensual….

The way he ‘hangs’ there crucified…wouldn’t we all ?

Isn’t that what PURE S & M ???

Fuck it. Forget it.

Sergey?

Sergey?

Defendant walks sideways out of Firenze and into Dante’s INFERNO (wherever that may be).

Street noises.

Wall Street noises.

Voice 1: Have you heard or seen Bertrand lately? Any reports from him?

Voice 2: Last I heard I saw him posting something on Facebook…can’t remember….

Voice 3: I do! He had donated everything to the Trump campaign. I thought he’d really gone crazy. Him? Trump?

Voice 1: Trump ? Bertrand? Trump? NO!!

Voice 3: Yes, then he posted a picture of himself kneeling in front of an billboard showing a HUGE picture of Christiane Amanpour over which he has sprayed I LOVE YOU ! I LOVE YOU !

Voice 1 : Wow ! and when was that ?

WHEN WAS THAT???

WHEN WAS THAT???

WHEN WAS THAT???

 WHEN WAS THAT???

 WHEN WAS THAT???

……..

……………

 

…..

……………….

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February 9, 2016 · 9:38 am

Statues don’t cry but Flamenco dancers do: a RANT from my play “Black Olive Branches”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJlLDCPk1Fo

 

 

People who are alive SCREAM and CRY, have you noticed? Have you noticed that theres no room for statues in this life? Have you noticed that the lack of emotion is NOT- in and of itself – an emotion but a LACK of thereof and of and of? and theres no crying over spilled milk but theres crying and theres a LOT of crying! SoCRY!

IMG_2050

No, theres only LIFE and DEATH and this CRAZY in-between is a crazy in-between which needs to be CRIED about and savored and be baffled about because its FUCKING CRAZY how ART is ART and how a fucking crazy thing like Facebook can suddenly turn into a marvelous tool and bring you great things from PARTS UNKNOWN sowhy be afraid?

Afraid of what ????

I was on Facebook and ranting or laughing at myself when.suddenly and least expected I came across this BARA woman, this fantastic Flamenco dancer and Lisa Fisher – who has always moved me to death. Yes, I am always being MOVED TO DEATH because Im alive.

And because Im alive I can swing towards death and back to life with ease and back again because, well because Im not afraid.

So, these jazz musicians came via Facebook or else, I wouldnt have known anything about them.

How can you – orbetter yet HOW do you expect to not be a statue if youre always asleep and follow rituals? How can a ritual be more important than the ability to flow naturally like a river flows and a cloud blows and a sun shines into ones eyes How can you shut your eyes onto the DARKNESS of yourself and pretend that by PRAYING you are actually PROTECTING something? How fucking pretentious is that?

Yes, I am always being MOVED TO DEATH because Im alive.

Yes, I am always being MOVED TO DEATH because Im alive.

People who are alive SCREAM and CRY, have you noticed? Have you noticed that theres no room for statues in this life? Have you noticed that the lack of emotion is NOT in itself an emotion but a LACK of thereof ?

How can you be afraid of any mind opening device? afraid of what exactly? Of hearing voices? And what could they possibly tell you that you dont already know, Sergey? That there is DEATH in Venice? That there is Cholera in Venice?

That there is danger in living?

That there is danger in life?


  • WAGNER….. YOU DIED IN A FUCKING GONDOLA UNDER THE RIALTO
    for fuck’s sakes and you discovered Schopenhauer far too late in life.

People who are alive SCREAM and CRY, have you noticed? Have you noticed that theres no room for statues in this life?

It will be BLAST to see the circus on fire with all these hypocritical bastards going up in flames, torched, all on fire. WOOOF! The persecution of sex so long.so tired I mean hard sex, sex in the ass, scatological sex, orgiastic but NOT for show, Sergey, not for show, for real. Not for SHOW. I am talking about the PAIN OF BEING BORN and feeling it of being reminded by it thru sex, every day, the beating, the bones and flesh hurting at the joints and the orifices all oozing, all those liquids, excrements

And THAT is what you were afraid of: your excrement. Your bones and flesh. That is why these statues exist. Because they have no smell. Theyre safe. Safe and STALE like a fucking CHURCH where you can go and HIDE, hide away from the smells of the streets, the filth of sex, the dirty horrible dicks that youve had to suck and that have penetrated you because you say that you did IT FOR ME!!!!

REVOLUTIONS are never done in the name of anyone but for those who are DOING it, you passive bastard. Sergey, youre a passive bastard who has never acknowledged the existence of Antonio Gramsci and Rosa of Luxemburg and you HAVE NO IDEA OF WHAT A FEARLESS REVOLUTIONARY IS.

So Ill tell you what the A inside a CIRCLE really means. And that is where this story really begins.

Anarchy - coffee on Fabriano paper -Firenze (2016)

Anarchy – coffee on Fabriano paper -Firenze (2016)

It will be BLAST to see the circus on fire with all these hypocritical bastards going up in flames, torched, all on fire. WOOOF! The persecution of sex

So Ill tell you what the A inside a CIRCLE really means. And that is where this story really begins.

Ill kindly ask you all to leave.

The show is about to begin.

Youre not invited.

Youre not invited.

Youre not invited.

Youre not invited.

Sorry, Youre not invited. Sorry, Youre not invited.

Sorry, Youre not invited.

Sorry, Youre not invited.

Gerald Thomas , Firenze, Feb 6, 2016

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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OMG !!!! Firenze…..

No, this is NOT Michaelangelo. This my eagle and it's pencil and coffee on paper.

No, this is NOT Michaelangelo. This my eagle and it’s pencil and coffee on paper.

Yes, that IS me...

Yes, that IS me…

IMG_1524Screen Shot 2016-02-04 at 6.06.10 AM

BLACK OLIVE BRANCHES (PLAY – CONTINUED…..)

Firenze – days later – Feb, 5 2016

Who will ever give a shit, really? Because…I mean…dates!! I mean…Obsessed by dates and places. Like me! And WHAT happened and WHERE it happened and WHY it happened….

……AM I HERE TO PREVENT IT FROM HAPPENING AGAIN? (if so, what? What exactly? 1- a war? 2 – a battle? 3- a fight ? 4 – a miscommunication?) WHAT?

 ….WILL SOME WALL HERE IN FIRENZE TELL ME?

GERALD THOMAS

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Black Olive Branches (Oliveiras Negras) – A teaser……(a play by Gerald Thomas)

House in Guetto, Venice

House in Guetto, Venice

Another house in Guetto, Venice

Another house in Guetto, Venice

BLACK OLIVE BRANCHES (or…. “Trinculo’s Triangle”  / or  “A Fire in The Tempest”)

Narration:

Yes, I knew that there would be some kind of answer but I thought it would be of a different kind. Like what? Well, like….”You were born here or there on such and such a date and here is your birth certificate and, by the way, you’re my son”.

 Yes, that kind of answer – I knew – would never come.

 Never.

 Dialogue:

 B – So, what do you expect me to do now?

 A – Give me the names. Give me their names and fuck off.

 B – Come close.

 A – ???

 B-  Come close, I said. Come close. There’s something I need to tell you.  I’m alone in this world. Nobody gives a shit about whether I’m alive or dead. It’s not like….I’m not like the others who have, you know….achieved something. I’m nothing. My passage on earth won’t even be registered when I die. There will be no record of it. Nothing. Not a note so…

Why the fuck should I do anything for you? You’d do me a hell of a favor by shooting me right here and now. No-one would notice and, as for me….you’d rid me of my pain.

 …………So? Shoot me. I won’t give you any names.

 A- That means you know their names?

 B- Does it matter at this point?

 A – Maybe it doesn’t. You’re right. I came because…. I came because I’m deeply interested in something I know you care about. That’s all. I don’t really care about spies. They could all rot in hell as far as I’m concerned. But I do care about two things: The Venice Guetto  and Justice. And you know quite well how the two are combined. Think about that. Just think about that.

Lawyer– Okay, you’re probably feeling a little bit depressed right now. Memories of the Guetto, perhaps?

Defendant – “SexLeaks is going to release the first part of my ConFessions today. It will be great. I tell it all. About all.

Lawyer– No. You did not !!!! Come on !!! You did not !!!! Come on !!!

DefendantIt will be BLAST to see the circus on fire with all these hypocritical bastards going up in flames, torched, all on fire. WOOOF! The persecution of sex so long.so tired I mean hard sex, sex in the ass, scatological sex, orgiastic but NOT for show, Sergey, not for show, for real. Not for SHOW. I am talking about the PAIN OF BEING BORN and feeling it of being reminded by it thru sex, every day, the beating, the bones and flesh hurting at the joints and the orifices all oozing, all those liquids, excrements It isnt even really sex Im talking about but some extreme form of torture and YES – BEFORE YOU GIVE ME YOUR SILLY QUOTES FROM MARQUIS DE SADE and so on let me tell you

..its far beyond that.far beyond that.

 Im so exhausted and torn apart

 Like the slaves must have felt when their soul was robbed from them.and they were raped.and their identities were raped and here I am, here I am, BEGGING TO BE RAPED!

 BEGGING TO BE A SLAVE.

 Any comments, Sergey?

Sergey: I meansince you are kind enough to askso we will then make it a teeny bit safer and increase compensation payments to widows of those you have raped and have raped you (or will rape you: I’m confused, forgive me!). They’d like to see class divisions eliminated… so we do our best to bring the classes marginally closer or, preferably, just make it seem that way. Does that seem okay to you?

Defendant – Does that seem okay? Sure. Once you find my body all cut up floating in the Canale Grande…who will ever give a shit?

__________________________________________________________________________

Gerald Thomas © Copyright Venice Jan / Feb 2016

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Not many times enough. Venice, again !

IMG_0445

Venice - Jewish Guetto

Venice – Jewish Guetto

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“Many times in life we many times. We often private stuff like toilet stuff. We too often poop, we too often pee , we too often constipation stuff and we too often feel like life imprisonment stuff. A lot of people in life often fly kites, often run away from home only to put their tails between their legs and return home again. Many people drink beer . Many people have have serious nervous breakdowns yet they still pay to see Almodovar’s movies about nervous breakdowns. Many people get confused with the alphabet yet go out and buy ” The Making of Americans ” by Gertrude Stein. So we should not be taken seriously . Often in life we ​​often in life because we often, far far too often . Venice is…. Venice is so often in our lives but so often in our lives… . Such is life. Not often enough !”

 

Gerald Thomas

Venice, February 1, 2016

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