tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45338846596143726582024-03-13T23:59:03.960-07:00TETINEBruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.comBlogger342125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-91970437983663236642024-01-12T05:52:00.000-08:002024-01-12T06:45:37.588-08:00Tetine, Music For Breathing (video release)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SLBFCMYC16Y" width="320" youtube-src-id="SLBFCMYC16Y"></iframe></div><br /> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face="-webkit-standard, serif"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;">“Music For Breathing” is the new video and single by the <i>tropical mutant punk funk</i> duo Tetine taken from their new album <i>After the Future</i> - out now on Slum Dunk Music, 2023.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;">Formed by Brazilian musicians/artists Bruno Verner, Eliete Mejorado and cellist Yoko Afi, Tetine have been producing a series of singular works intersecting electronic music, performance art, film/video, and spoken word, and acting in experimental contexts both in the music and art scenes since their creation in São Paulo in 1995.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><i><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span></i><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;">“Music For Breathing” is a dreamy electro-acoustic meditation for cello, treated voices, electronics, and organ, dedicated to our planetary ecosystem in erosion. Conceived by Eliete Mejorado, the video is an ode to Earth’s ancestral future as the only possible future. One that was already here: a non-human cosmic, forested and aquatic inherited future moved by the movement of rivers, trees, the stars, insects, birds, plants, landscapes, roads, stones, light, the sky, and the sun. It is a slow piece about electricity and a poetic allegory against the centrality of humans and capitalism as the mufflers of other presences.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;">“Music For Breathing” dwells on such complex relationships motivated by a strong desire for collective change, a shift towards a greater understanding of the cosmos without the need to produce for ‘progress’.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;">The track also comes with “Spaced Out in Paradise”, a washed out, hypnotic melancholic track sung by Yoko and Bruno as they search for another planetary contact.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;">Stream TETINE’s latest album <i>After The Future</i> now here: </span><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/1cPPymclUihI1oNdsKopST?si=yxUCdht6TE6iijLA4HTKHw"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="color: #954f72; font-size: 10pt;">https://open.spotify.com/album/1cPPymclUihI1oNdsKopST?si=yxUCdht6TE6iijLA4HTKHw</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;">TETINE play London’s Rich Mix on 19<sup>th</sup> Jan 2024. Find out more and get tickets here: </span><a href="https://richmix.org.uk/events/tetine-music-for-breathing/"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="color: #954f72; font-size: 10pt;">https://richmix.org.uk/events/tetine-music-for-breathing/</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial Nova Light", sans-serif" style="font-size: 10pt;"> </span><o:p></o:p></p><br />Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-74799348969084299862024-01-12T05:44:00.000-08:002024-01-12T05:44:07.996-08:00Tetine - Spaced out in Paradise (video + upcoming shows)<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/-LLgs-LHn58" width="320" youtube-src-id="-LLgs-LHn58"></iframe></div><br />Watch the video here: <a href="https://youtu.be/DsFO-aMIMHE" style="color: #954f72;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">https://youtu.be/DsFO-aMIMHE</span></a><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ahead of their headline show at London’s acclaimed Rich Mix venue on 19<sup>th</sup> January, Brazilian <i>tropical mutant punk funk</i> trio Tetine launch a brand-new video for “Spaced Out in Paradise”, taken from their new album <i>After the Future</i> - out now on Slum Dunk Music, 2023.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The video for “Spaced Out in Paradise” was directed by Tetine’s vocalist/keyboard player Eliete Mejorado and recorded in different locations around greater London. It was conceived as an auto-philosophical-experimental<i> sci-fi</i> of a utopian, ecological and hallucinatory verve, articulated under distinct temporalities and spaces, where pasts, presents, futures (and non-futures) overlap amid a third new existential order yet to come. One apparent order that presents itself simultaneously as <i>post-global</i> and <i>post-local</i>, however in frank disintegration.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">In this illusory <i>non-place</i>, Eliete Mejorado, Yoko Afi and Bruno Verner wander through a poetic sphere that is at the same time pastoral, numerical-digital, migratory, and aquatic in search of new possible utopias, latitudes, and longitudes in the cosmos, lulled by the icy, dreamy-lysergic atmosphere, and melancholy of “Spaced Out in Paradise” sung by Yoko and Bruno. In search of another planetary contact.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Spaced Out in Paradise is part of a series of poetic auto-fictions that will accompany the songs of <i>After the Future</i> and a striking taster of what to expect at Tetine’s upcoming 2024 London shows. DIY music of invention, independent, without handcuffs, and of strange beauty.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Stream TETINE’s latest album <i>After The Future</i> now here: </span><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/1cPPymclUihI1oNdsKopST?si=yxUCdht6TE6iijLA4HTKHw"><span style="color: #954f72; font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">https://open.spotify.com/album/1cPPymclUihI1oNdsKopST?si=yxUCdht6TE6iijLA4HTKHw</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TETINE have the following upcoming shows in 2024:</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">January 19th, 8 pm – An evening with Tetine live at Rich Mix</span></b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Further info and tickets here: </span><a href="https://richmix.org.uk/events/tetine-music-for-breathing/"><span style="color: #954f72; font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">https://richmix.org.uk/events/tetine-music-for-breathing/</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">February 17th, 5 pm - Tetine at Dash The Henge </span></b><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">(in-store afternoon set)</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><b><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">February 23rd, 7 pm - An evening with Tetine at The Showroom</span></b><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Further info here: </span><a href="https://www.theshowroom.org/events/tetine-music-for-breathing"><span style="color: #954f72; font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">https://www.theshowroom.org/events/tetine-music-for-breathing</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><i><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">For more information visit: </span></i><a href="https://www.instagram.com/wearetetine/"><i><span lang="EN-AU" style="color: #954f72; font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">https://www.instagram.com/wearetetine/</span></i></a><i><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> or contact </span></i><a href="mailto:terry@cannonballpr.com"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #954f72; font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">terry@cannonballpr.com</span></i></a><i><span lang="EN-AU" style="font-family: "Arial Nova Light", sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> / 07871917774.</span></i><o:p></o:p></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt; text-align: center;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 12pt; text-align: justify;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-2852758619568404622024-01-12T05:22:00.000-08:002024-01-12T05:35:29.625-08:00Tetine, Music For Breathing / After The Future - full interview<p><span style="font-family: arial;">Brazilian tropical mutant punk funk trio drop video for 'Music For Breathing' </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 9pt;"><span style="color: #444444; text-decoration: none;"><a href="https://prettywomenhustlemagazine.wpcomstaging.com/author/prettywomenhustlemagazine/">Jakia Cheatham - Myles</a></span></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 9pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqMrW3JSyjLLRWwtQzGjfyIZCYsVA_dR25ga_k_zYdBq_tfF1CXnlHwxB_2ml2f2D59FxP9j7IzBfv7Wf5XEeYYdYRpmg2vCrcvUNcK6L9wlf2hu8K5M0KChS2NKJWaXJU8HKTCJJ5FEW7Py45EK-U2Shc4PJoELeS10LyTF8Bt4zm90DqhKuek_C4XGQ/s1084/337397941_908665730187258_8387306245613724518_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1084" data-original-width="1080" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqMrW3JSyjLLRWwtQzGjfyIZCYsVA_dR25ga_k_zYdBq_tfF1CXnlHwxB_2ml2f2D59FxP9j7IzBfv7Wf5XEeYYdYRpmg2vCrcvUNcK6L9wlf2hu8K5M0KChS2NKJWaXJU8HKTCJJ5FEW7Py45EK-U2Shc4PJoELeS10LyTF8Bt4zm90DqhKuek_C4XGQ/w638-h640/337397941_908665730187258_8387306245613724518_n.jpg" width="638" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Watch the video here: <a href="https://youtu.be/SLBFCMYC16Y" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0d19a3;">https://youtu.be/SLBFCMYC16Y</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">“Music For Breathing” is the brand new video & single by the <i>tropical mutant punk funk</i> duo Tetine taken from their new album <i>After the Future</i> – out now on Slum Dunk Music, 2023.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Formed by Brazilian musicians/artists Bruno Verner, Eliete Mejorado and cellist Yoko Afi, Tetine have been producing a series of singular works intersecting electronic music, performance art, film/video, and spoken word, and acting in experimental contexts both in the music and art scenes since their creation in São Paulo in 1995.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">“Music For Breathing” is a dreamy electro-acoustic meditation for cello, treated voices, electronics, and organ, dedicated to our planetary ecosystem in erosion. Conceived by Eliete Mejorado, the video is an ode to Earth’s ancestral future as the only possible future. One that was already here: a non-human cosmic, forested and aquatic inherited future moved by the movement of rivers, trees, the stars, insects, birds, plants, landscapes, roads, stones, light, the sky, and the sun. It is a slow piece about electricity and a poetic allegory against the centrality of humans and capitalism as the mufflers of other presences.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">“Music For Breathing” dwells on such complex relationships motivated by a strong desire for collective change, a shift towards a greater understanding of the cosmos without the need to produce for ‘progress’. The track also comes with “Spaced Out in Paradise”, a washed out, hypnotic melancholic track sung by Yoko and Bruno as they search for another planetary contact.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Stream TETINE’s latest album <i>After The Future</i> now here: <a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/1cPPymclUihI1oNdsKopST?si=yxUCdht6TE6iijLA4HTKHw" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0d19a3;">https://open.spotify.com/album/1cPPymclUihI1oNdsKopST?si=yxUCdht6TE6iijLA4HTKHw</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">TETINE play London’s Rich Mix on 19</span><sup><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 9pt;">th</span></sup><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> Jan 2024. Find out more and get tickets here: <a href="https://richmix.org.uk/events/tetine-music-for-breathing/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #0d19a3;">https://richmix.org.uk/events/tetine-music-for-breathing/</span></a></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">We had the pleasure of sitting down with TETINE to discuss music, touring and plans for the future: </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Can you tell us a bit about the inspiration behind “Music For Breathing” and the concept behind your new album, “After the Future”?</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The idea to create “Music for Breathing” and the new album “After the Future” came during the first lockdown as we began playing together every day—myself, Bruno, and our then 10-year-old daughter, Yoko. We ended up composing a series of slow and atmospheric pieces for electronics, synths, organ, and cello while stuck in our flat under the influence of watching too much of the terrible news of the time. Much of the inspiration behind the work and the tracks we produced for the records were born out of constant contemplation of the idea of respiration, asphyxiation, the virus itself, acts of suspended breathing, and vertigos related to the experience of living in urban environments in political, social, and philosophical transitions. We were sonically and poetically trying to deal with the persistent sense of claustrophobia, panic, and a state of insecurity that took place in the world, and at the same time, channeling a real desire for collective change, for a greater understanding of the cosmos through our music. One in which the Western idea of ‘production’ and ‘progress’ often dictated by those in power could no longer make sense in the fractured world we live in. Both records were born as a kind of utopian sonic fiction around these themes.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">“Music For Breathing” is described as a dreamy electro-acoustic meditation. Can you walk us through the creative process behind this particular track?</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The track was born from the many improv sessions we would do at home at the time. I think it began taking form when Yoko and Bruno found the vocal melody and the harmony they wanted for the piece. I then recorded only Yoko’s vocals, and I began treating it electronically as I played with some images on Final Cut—just the voice and then her cello. I thought that they had created such a beautiful and simple melody, and I had this idea that I could make Yoko’s vocals resemble a spooky and alien chant. One that preserved both the organic and ‘human-like’ characteristics of the original vocals recorded and yet acted as a half-human, half-machine melancholic and strange element throughout the track. As I found the tone, then we began again improvising over the vocal line, adding layers of synths, and an organ counter melody. Yoko then added other cello layers, we doubled some of her vocals, and the whole atmosphere of “Music For Breathing” took shape. That was the first track we recorded, and from then on, we started creating the repertoire of After the Future.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">In what ways do you hope the music and video convey a message about our relationship with the planet?</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I believe that we all know by now (or at least feel) that our ecosystem is in frank erosion. Even those who are still in denial about it may feel that something is not quite right. There’s been so much destruction, endless forms of extraction, exploitation, social injustice, terrible wars, an inundation of poor mental health, and all this in conjunction with unexpected emergencies and climate shifts around the planet. Our “Music For Breathing” video was conceived as an ode to Earth’s ancestral future as the only possible future. Bruno and I were very influenced by the thoughts of the wonderful Brazilian philosopher and indigenous thinker Ailton Krenak, whose beliefs include the perception of the meaning of ‘life’ as transcendental. Something that is beyond our understanding and, therefore, undefinable by words and verbal language. “Music For Breathing,” both as a video and a piece of music, tries to evoke this notion of a future of the past without being necessarily nostalgic. One that was already here: a non-human cosmic, forested, and aquatic inherited future moved by the movement of rivers, trees, the stars, insects, birds, plants, landscapes, roads, stones, light, the sky, and the sun. The video is about electricity. For me, it also conveys a poetic allegory against the centrality of humans and contemporary capitalism as the ‘governors’ and mufflers of other presences.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">How do you see music as a medium for expressing and challenging societal and environmental issues?</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I think that music is a form of universal language. You can establish distinct types of sensory communication through sound and achieve modes of cultural, social, or political engagement. A piece of music may grab your attention in so many different levels than a purely verbal discourse would do. It touches me directly as no other art form can do. I use it as a poetic way of communicating my feelings, but there are so many ways and formats one can do it. No matter what kind of music. For me, making music is a powerful way to express, celebrate, and challenge any form of sentiment. And this, of course, includes societal, political, historical, philosophical, environmental, amorous issues, and so on.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Can you share some insights into the dynamics between the three members when producing your music?</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Our music-making has been permeated by a domestic experience since the early days when we used to live in São Paulo. We produced ‘After the Future’ at home in East London during the unbearably intense hot summer that hit the city between July and August 2022. We set up our studio in our flat’s kitchen to better capture all the acoustic instrumentation (in particular, for the recordings of the cellos) as we would have much less noise interference from the street, and ended up assembling all the tracks in that space. It was such a beautiful process that involved me and Bruno and our daughter Yoko, who became the third member of Tetine and contributed with cellos, vocals, some additional keyboards, and who co-authored most of the repertoire in After the Future. The three of us became so intimate musically since the first lockdowns, and this record is the result of such dynamics. It was a natural kind of amalgam, as there was not much to do during this time except play together, watch films, listen to the news, and talk about the strange world we live. This was fuel for composing, and that’s how it all came about. It was an amazing period of collective discoveries for the three of us, much differently than if we were all each separately working on our own things musically. It also coincided with Yoko starting to compose her first pieces. She had just made a track called “Aurora,” which had also been released on a Brazilian electronic music compilation Baphyanas Brasyleiras (and that we ended up later including on After the Future) as it was aligned with what we had been composing for Tetine. So, it was a natural process the way she incorporated herself in Tetine’s world participating in videos and composing. And that’s how we ended up with a tropical mutant DIY piece of electronica and experimental chamber music.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">In the text Bruno wrote for the “Music For Breathing” vinyl’s insert, he uses the expression ‘agile and naive as a child’ by Oswald de Andrade, to refer to the process of making these pieces, while at the same time commenting that the album was composed with the ‘arrogance of a second childhood’; a quote by British filmmaker Derek Jarman that has also influenced Tetine both visually and philosophically in so many ways over the years.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">As a duo that has been active since 1995, how do you see Tetine evolving in the future, both musically and thematically?</span></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The process of composing ‘After the Future’ was a way for us to review characteristics of Tetine’s own trajectory as a duo. Almost like a form of ‘self-cannibalization’. We went back to our roots as Brazilian artists living in the UK and to the beginning of our history as an electronic duo formed in 1995. Also, we went through places that were dormant, understanding things that we did in different ways in the past.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I see Tetine evolving into a powerful experimental DIY chamber ensemble, amplifying our blend of electronic and acoustic instrumentation while re-dimensioning our interest in the politics of day-to-day living and the domestic through the relationship between nature and technology.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background-color: white; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 18.75pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">For more information visit: </span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/wearetetine/" target="_blank"><i><span style="color: #0d19a3; text-decoration: none;">https://www.instagram.com/wearetetine/</span></i></a><i> or contact </i><a href="mailto:terry@cannonballpr.com" target="_blank"><i><span style="color: #0d19a3; text-decoration: none;">terry@cannonballpr.com</span></i></a><i> </i></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-64590566913709552592021-12-12T05:01:00.001-08:002021-12-12T05:01:21.966-08:00Tetine Vs Sophie Calle - Samba de Monalisa (2002)<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Morning, here's a track from the Tetine Vs Sophie Calle's album "Samba de Monalisa", released in 2002, our second record produced in London. It will complete 20 years now in January 2022. I've been listening to it again, rediscovering it ... and relearning how to play some of its songs. This is "Amada Amante" - one of the closing tracks and one my favourite, (trk.11). Looking back, it is quite a nice record, and one of the reasons that we ended up staying in this country - we performed it many times in the UK and around Europe, and later in 2009 at Sophie Calle's exhibition 'Take Care of Yourself' in São Paulo at Sesc Pompéia. It was also once "electronica album of the month" at the deceased and saudosa Tower Records of Picaddily Circus - which, for us, was a big treat, and surprise at the time... you can imagine how it felt (if you know what I mean, and all the dillemas/questions related to shelving CDs in the 'right shelves') when me and Eli entered the shop and saw our CD spread around the electronica section, and also available in one of those listening posts that they used to have. Dream! Below is some of the praise it got at the time. Dig it ...also in all platforms through Slum Dunk Music.</span></span></p><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">****************</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">"L’apport musical du duo Tetine donne aux quelques extraits narratifs ou de dialogues une force et une sentimentalié étonnantes. D’une très belle justesse. D’une just finnesse. L’albu prend vraiment une dimension de document sonore où les instantes clés du film son’t saisis, montrés puis étendus en des plages musicales que décortiquent la scène et la font apparaître a nu…’. Clarknova Magazine, France, June 2002</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">"El cine negro se refleja en los ambientes oscuros de 'Welcome To Las Vegas' y el romántico conecta con 'Music For Mechanics' debido sus violines y conversaciones. 'Sandalia Quebrada' vuelve a esa mezcla electrosamba y ambientes sintéticos aderezados por voces, esta vez sin un diálogo explícito. Más preciosista e actual es 'Hotel Madrid', tema que conecta con artificieros de la electronica como Múm'... Estamos pues ante un disco para los amantes de la música electrónica con aporte cinematográfico e experimental (aunque sin ecxesivos riesgo). Lo cual no es poco." Satelite Pop, Madrid, July, 2002</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">"Tetine, Brazilian artists Bruno Verner and Eliete Mejorado have created a dispassionate American travelogue of great tenderness and reserve. As male and female voices offer intimate insights into the directionless, inertial flow of their relationship, a sharply defined soundtrack follows them on a road trip from New York to Vegas…The televangelist rant, cool French tone and Hip Hop lope of the opening suggest an emotionally detached take on Jean Luc Godard’s classic debut Au Bout De Souffle but the mute longing of ‘Amada Amante’ and ‘I Met Him in The Bar’ go way beyond even that’. Ken Hollings, The Wire. June 2002</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">"Le travail de Tetine et Sophie Calle est à rapprocher de celui de Genesis P.Orridge dans so projet Splinter Test (Welcome to Las Vegas oú l’on perçoit la voix surnaturelle de Roy Orbison) ou bien encore des constructions méditatives de Stephen Jones (Hotel Madrid). Sur le plan de la narration, le glissement du privé au public, de l’intime à l’ouvre, cher à Sophie Calle, démontre avec brio qu’il existe des alternatives dignes aux cogitations loft-storyennes: le journal intime électronique…. La musique atosphérique et lointaine de Tetine apport un nouvel eclairage, inedit et enchanteur, aux autofictions de Sophie Calle'.4/5 Lionel Delamonte, Chronic’art, France, June 2002</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">"Um pouco como a própria Sophie Calle, o Tetine quer refletir sobre dois eixos. As conexões possíveis entre a 'alta cultura' e os mass media e entre o público e o privado (..) Samba de Monalisa recupera de certa forma o viés experimentalista e falado de Alexander's Grave, o álbum de estreia de 1996. Nesse, o 'gatilho' não era o cinema mas o teatro e literatura com fragmentos de textos de Shakespeare, Tennessee Williams, Strindberg Musset e outros". Alex Antunes, Revista Bravo, Brazil, Set, 2002</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">‘Fave tracks are 'No Sex Last Nigh' and 'Amada Amante'. Even though it is really quite complex and multilayered, repeated listening is rather rewarding. It is actually quite an accessible album, given the right exposure it could be a cult crossover, attains cult status and so much publicity that it crosses over into mainstream popularity’. Clive Craske, Jazzical Gaz, April 2002</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">‘…atmospheric mysterious film dialogue drifting darkly across some strangely scratched electronic riffs. Why you ask? Because the São Paulo based duo Tetine have a thing about the cult French artist called Sophie Calle'. Robert Sandall, Mixing it, BBC Radio 3, April 2002"</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Recommended tune: 'No Sex Last Night' - Tetine vs Sophie Calle. BBC Radio 1, June 2002</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Recommended electronica album of the month. Tower Records, May 2002.</div></div><div class="cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql o9v6fnle ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">'Impresario of indulgence Ian White and Brazilian performance duo Tetine deliver a seriously whacked out evening of mixed media mayhem that covers all the bases and barely stops for breath. Tetine themselves are launching their new dirty beats/ found voices cd made in collaboration with following artist Sophie Calle; there's image work from them, videos by Queen of Endurance Art Marina Abramovic and the marvelous Chicks on Speed; and more much more is promissed. From hybrid to hola!, high culture to 'Here She is Again', why not shake your booty at WAG this Friday?' GE, Time Out London, June 2002</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="397" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/mKmrygZuVTY" width="478" youtube-src-id="mKmrygZuVTY"></iframe></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></div></div>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-3280543623007051012021-08-21T04:38:00.002-07:002021-08-21T04:38:10.167-07:00Parasita Para-raio<p>Parasita Para-raio Neoliberal Parasita Papagaio Universal Parasita Para-raio Ocidental </p><p>Parasita Papagaio Institucional Parasita Para-raio Em C bemol Parasita Para-raio Ocasional </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-906662709538943282021-07-28T03:27:00.007-07:002021-07-28T03:27:57.003-07:00Freedom of Choice?? <p><span data-offset-key="2kh98-0-0" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Couldn't agree more with Ash Sakar: </span></p><div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Anti-vaxxer Kate Shemirani's speech on Saturday points to the rise of a new fringe element of the far right. Should we be worried?</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Ash Sarkar | <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl q66pz984 gpro0wi8 b1v8xokw" href="https://www.facebook.com/hashtag/tyskysour?__eep__=6&__cft__[0]=AZUh5m1ztrrlY2K7ILFBRAadBZwKoi5vyci9ubKIxLj7NEqMCCrvg5DCfEGJYpqZGnrNN8--hjWjVj_5FOHHnugO7TFX53zHl8wFZwbnAZj0aAILvrtBsSny-fdGNdCX9K4V0Wh2KZVjohjy79DrbDdfWtprJmxsZ9gcdIQShsnU-Q&__tn__=*NK-y-R" role="link" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--accent); cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0">#TyskySour</a></span></div></div><p><span data-offset-key="2kh98-0-0" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Watch the full episode</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="pq6dq46d tbxw36s4 knj5qynh kvgmc6g5 ditlmg2l oygrvhab nvdbi5me sf5mxxl7 gl3lb2sf hhz5lgdu" style="display: inline-flex; font-family: inherit; height: 16px; margin: 0px 1px; vertical-align: middle; width: 16px;"><img alt="👇" height="16" referrerpolicy="origin-when-cross-origin" src="https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v9/tee/2/16/1f447.png" style="border: 0px;" width="16" /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl py34i1dx gpro0wi8" href="https://novara.media/climatechangecomeshome?fbclid=IwAR0bhZZhvv6hGcWKpWGY1ulLvW4RKo89jb5LAvN2AmLUK8dnoVUaX3PY-x0" rel="nofollow noopener" role="link" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--blue-link); cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0" target="_blank">https://novara.media/climatechangecomeshome</a></span></div></div><p><span data-offset-key="2kh98-0-0" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">There's also an annoying pseudo mystical chat that most of the anti-vaxxers propagate on social networks, a kind of spiritual supremacy which is a mix of cheap self-help, ignorance and prepotency as if they were immune avenging angels like Ash says. </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Freedom</span><span data-offset-key="2kh98-2-0" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> of choice against the unfreedom of others?? Totally selfish, capitalistic, individualistic in the worst way, and oblivious to others and the space as a PLACE.</span></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-31443712004382585912021-05-08T04:09:00.001-07:002021-05-08T04:09:12.024-07:00Marcinha Montserrath & Cassiano <div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: white;">Muito triste o dia de ontem, só agora começo a digerir.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">É simbólico pensar que duas vozes bonitas pra caralho vindas de espaços diferentes, mas complementares em emoção, em imersão sonora, e com aquela rouquidão sentida não-forçada - daquelas que sabem entrar gostoso na harmonia e produzem melodia sem fazer esforço algum; cada uma a seu modo - tenham se calado no mesmo dia.</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cassiano, monstro sagrado do soul brasileiro , e Cantor com C maiúsculo, que ouvi pela primeira vez na trilha sonora da novela O Grito de 1975 e que teve um impacto brutal em como fui entender musica, além de melodista como poucos que aparecem por ai, e a adorável <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl q66pz984 gpro0wi8 b1v8xokw" href="https://www.facebook.com/marcinha.montserrath?__cft__[0]=AZXGPMrrmMUJEHYKyNPSYQDoa74Y-DJRo0q_cQYORelHq3NiygUUTytdLd2HSITy7wFnBE0gfjrlQqiuBeznvLfK4okQl8xUW8MIeD9gjFjcQbMrhKUohJ2BKMfUsiacf5QqMvEbUPhWIASrtyVustQe&__tn__=-]K-R" role="link" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--accent); cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0"><span class="nc684nl6" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">Marcinha Montserrath</span></a></span> que eternizou "Samba do Morro” do também genial <span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl q66pz984 gpro0wi8 b1v8xokw" href="https://www.facebook.com/chance.sp.br/?__cft__[0]=AZXGPMrrmMUJEHYKyNPSYQDoa74Y-DJRo0q_cQYORelHq3NiygUUTytdLd2HSITy7wFnBE0gfjrlQqiuBeznvLfK4okQl8xUW8MIeD9gjFjcQbMrhKUohJ2BKMfUsiacf5QqMvEbUPhWIASrtyVustQe&__tn__=kK-R" role="link" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--accent); cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0"><span class="nc684nl6" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">Chance</span></a></span>, um dos meus momentos preferidos do pós punk paulista (quem me conhece sabe da minha devoção por essa track) - e do qual tive a oportunidade de incluir e escrever sobre na coletânea The Sexual Life of The Savages em 2005 e nas paginas de Post Punk Then and Now. A ultima vez que vi Marcinha em carne e osso foi no show do Tetine em SP, muito querida ela sempre aparecia nos nossos shows com aquele sorriso, energia boa, bom humor e sempre muito inteligente e doce. Sua voz continuará ecoando para sempre, e a contribuição dela pro nosso pós punk brasileiro é da maior importância e grandeza. </div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Desejo força a sua família, filhos e a todos amigos. Segue aqui o eterno Samba do Morro na voz dela e A Lua e Eu na voz do Cassiano.</div><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/jOp82yvK_D0" width="320" youtube-src-id="jOp82yvK_D0"></iframe></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/6aL_SefTjss" width="320" youtube-src-id="6aL_SefTjss"></iframe></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></div>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-51953056191066254122021-02-15T04:33:00.006-08:002021-02-15T04:34:15.918-08:00" Duo Tetine recupera disco inédito do underground brasileiro" por Marcia Bechara<p> </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnNIhopegeQ8fqsNcz6atjPnTdvEK9CgZHMaraGzHLEP0_dhyphenhyphenM45ddzkQ89LB3DIzo4e6jUwv-m6rzzcgVJbcfIuTqYzBS3cZMxc1CN8poSFnjVSSUHqhzchnXSykKKmKM6Jfhm-IZ1g/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1454" data-original-width="2048" height="393" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDnNIhopegeQ8fqsNcz6atjPnTdvEK9CgZHMaraGzHLEP0_dhyphenhyphenM45ddzkQ89LB3DIzo4e6jUwv-m6rzzcgVJbcfIuTqYzBS3cZMxc1CN8poSFnjVSSUHqhzchnXSykKKmKM6Jfhm-IZ1g/w554-h393/r+mutt+4_4.JPG" width="554" /></a></div><br /></div></div></div><p></p><div class="m-author-n-reading-time__authors" style="-webkit-box-pack: start; border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: flex; flex-wrap: wrap; justify-content: flex-start; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><div class="m-from-author" style="-webkit-box-align: center; align-items: center; border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #9a9a9a; display: flex; flex-wrap: wrap; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 3px; padding: 0px;"><span class="m-from-author__by-label" style="margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">Por:</span></span><a class="m-from-author__name" href="https://www.rfi.fr/br/autor/m%C3%A1rcia-bechara/" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Márcia Bechara"><span style="font-family: courier;">Márcia Bechara</span></a><a class="m-from-author__name" href="https://www.rfi.fr/br/autor/m%C3%A1rcia-bechara/" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Márcia Bechara"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></a><a class="m-from-author__name" href="https://www.rfi.fr/br/autor/m%C3%A1rcia-bechara/" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Márcia Bechara"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></span></a><a class="m-from-author__name" href="https://www.rfi.fr/br/autor/m%C3%A1rcia-bechara/" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Márcia Bechara"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></span></a><a class="m-from-author__name" href="https://www.rfi.fr/br/autor/m%C3%A1rcia-bechara/" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Márcia Bechara"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></span></a><a class="m-from-author__name" href="https://www.rfi.fr/br/autor/m%C3%A1rcia-bechara/" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Márcia Bechara"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><span style="font-family: courier;">Ao longo dos últimos 25 anos, o duo eletrônico brasileiro Tetine, formado por Eliete Mejorado e Bruno Verner, vem atravessando as fronteiras entre os universos da música, da performance, da videoarte e do texto, em criações que contam com parceiros tão plurais quanto a artista francesa Sophie Calle ou a MC brasileira Deize Tigrona. Em 2021, o Tetine lança pelo selo Slum Dunk uma pérola que reverbera sua raiz no prolífico pós-punk brasileiro. O álbum “Konkret Dance” traz inéditas do grupo R.Mutt, banda belo-horizontina que é um dos marcos da cena do rock underground no Brasil.</span></span></a><a class="m-from-author__name" href="https://www.rfi.fr/br/autor/m%C3%A1rcia-bechara/" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px 5px 0px 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" title="Márcia Bechara"><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></span></a><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">Um "universo sônico particular", ao mesmo tempo, melódico, austero, expressionista, lírico-dada surrealista, melancólico e percussivo: o <a href="http://www.tetine.net/info.html" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">duo eletrônico Tetine</a>, radicado em Londres há 20 anos, lança pelo selo <a href="http://www.tetine.net/" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Slum Dunk Music</a> o "Konkret Dance 1986-89", um álbum do quarteto pós-punk/eletrônico R. Mutt formado em Belo Horizonte em 1986. O disco está disponível desde o fim de dezembro de 2020 nas principais plataformas de música, e sai agora em vinil para o público brasileiro.</span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">“Nossas referências na época do R.Mutt eram o Kraftwerk, talvez a maior influência da banda, mas também o pós-punk inglês da época, coisas como o Cabaret Voltaire, New Order, Joy Division, The Wake. O R.Mutt tinha essa sensibilidade <span style="font-style: italic;">avant-garde</span>, que acreditava tanto na mistura do Kraftwerk com em coisas da música contemporânea, como Schöneberg, quanto em artistas como Laurie Anderson, Meredith Monk e Philip Glass”, conta <a href="http://www.tetine.net/" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; color: #e2001a; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">Bruno Verner</a>, que atualmente prepara um doutorado sobre o pós-punk na Universidade de Goldsmiths, em Londres.</span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">O nome da banda, R.Mutt, faz referência ao pseudônimo de Marcel Duchamp: “Era esse o diálogo que a gente tinha na época, que se estende à geração pós-tropicalista, de artistas como Arrigo Barnabé, uma grande influência para mim, Itamar [Assumpção], o [grupo] Rumo. Tudo isso fazia parte do nosso imaginário e acho que era alimento para a banda”, diz Verner</span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">O disco "Konkret Dance" traz 15 canções gravadas entre 1986 e 1989 período em que o banda se manteve ativa, revelando (e recuperando) o que seria seu primeiro disco, "a partir de gravações compiladas de suas duas únicas fitas cassete, respectivamente intituladas R. Mutt 1 e 2, além de registros de shows e ensaios". </span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">Fazendo uso de sintetizadores analógicos, drum-machines e samplers para a criação de paisagens sonoras distópicas e glaciais, revisitadas por uma instrumentação eletroacústica, o R. Mutt produziu um universo sônico particular. “O mais importante nesta pesquisa é a produção de um tipo de sensibilidade sônica, ao mesmo tempo comum e distinta de várias cenas do pós-punk brasileiro. É isso que me interessa, é um modo de operar sonicamente sobre o mundo, utopicamente, de criar, de inventar futuros”, diz.</span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">“Acho que é o momento desse disco. Esse álbum do R.Mutt foi um desses futuros apagados, extinguidos. Fiz uma seleção de musicas dos dois únicos tapes existentes de shows da época no Madame Satã, em São Paulo, e no projeto Rock Líquido, um show coletivo que aconteceu na PUC em 1988”, conta Verner.</span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;">Faziam parte da mesma cena pós punk belo-horizontina grupos como Divergência Socialista, Sexo Explícito, O Ultimo Número, Ida & Os Voltas, Hosana Nas Alturas, Xiitas, Alma Ciborg, Os Contras, Sylvia Klein, Crime-Ópera entre outros. A R.Mutt percorreu todo o circuito underground local do período, se apresentando em bares, clubes, cineclubes, universidades, cinemas e auditórios da cidade, tendo realizado shows em São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Belo Horizonte e Juiz de Fora, em importante espaços, instituições e clubes da época como Madame Satã, Espaço Retrô, Sesc Pompéia, Teatro Cenário, Complexo B, Crepúsculo dos Deuses e a PUC.</span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-weight: 700;">A banda R.Mutt ao vivo em show na famosa casa Madame Satã, em São Paulo, em 1987.</span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ejp5Zc-FO6w" width="320" youtube-src-id="ejp5Zc-FO6w"></iframe></div><br /><span style="font-family: courier; font-weight: 700;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-weight: 700;"><br /></span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-weight: 700;"><br /></span></p><p style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; line-height: 1.4; margin: 0px 0px 28px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: courier;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: courier;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><div class="tms-ad" data-tms-ad-provider="teads" data-tms-ad-status="loaded" data-tms-ad-type="inread" id="tms-ad-inread-6097849844239067" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 0px; line-height: 0; margin: 0px auto; max-width: 530px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px;"><div class="teads" style="border: none; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><div class="teads-inread sm-screen" style="border: none; box-sizing: content-box; height: 385px; margin: 2px 0px 30px; max-width: 530px; overflow: hidden; padding: 0px; transition: height 0s;"></div></div></div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;" /></div></div><div class="m-author-n-reading-time__reading-time" style="-webkit-box-align: center; align-items: center; border: none; box-sizing: border-box; display: flex; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px 0px 5px 15px; padding: 0px;"><span class="svg" style="display: inline-flex;" title="Tempo de leitura"><svg viewbox="2179 -3523 24 24" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><path d="M2190.99-3521a10 10 0 1 0 10.01 10 10 10 0 0 0-10.01-10zm.01 18a8 8 0 1 1 8-8 8 8 0 0 1-8 8z"></path><path d="M2191.5-3516h-1.5v6l5.25 3.15.75-1.23-4.5-2.67z"></path></svg></span><br /></div>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-85228243541535142702021-02-15T03:58:00.007-08:002021-02-15T04:03:55.816-08:00R. Mutt lança disco perdido e resgata história do rock underground de Belo Horizonte - Music Non Stop<p><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><h2 style="box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 20px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">Conversamos com os integrantes da banda R. Mutt, ícone do post punk e do movimento rock underground de Belo Horizonte nos anos 80. O grupo lança disco que estava encaixotado a décadas, conta sobre a história da cena underground mineira e as aventuras como programa de rádio e selo em Londres.</span></h2><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(136, 136, 136); color: #888888; font-weight: bold;">Por </span><a href="https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/author/letty/" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #337ab7; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Letty</a><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(136, 136, 136); color: #888888; font-weight: bold;"></span></span><div class="post-date" style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(136, 136, 136); color: #888888; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: arial;">4 de janeiro de 2021</span></div></div><h3 style="box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 20px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: arial; font-size: small; font-weight: 700;">Inventar o futuro revisitando o passado: a atemporalidade da R. Mutt</span></h3><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: arial;">Falar sobre música (e sobre o rock underground) é falar sobre tempo, esse metrônomo-rei que conduz a vida e coroa as obras artísticas. Em tempos nos quais presente e futuro nos aterrorizam, por vezes a saída está em abrir as caixas do passado, nele encontrando um porto para ancorar as incertezas.</span></p><div class="banner ad-300x250" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 20px; text-align: center;"><div data-google-query-id="CMrpzOvp6-4CFYk_0wodrOoCHw" id="banner-300x250-area" style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="337" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/EwNbcPY3Vlo" width="406" youtube-src-id="EwNbcPY3Vlo"></iframe></span></div><div class="rps-container" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; border-top-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-top-style: solid; border-top-width: 1px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 30px 0px; padding: 20px 0px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: arial;">Foi dessas caixas que saiu uma das melhores surpresas musicais de 2020: o primeiro álbum da</span><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/5pQ2xRWxFFMoqM7SUp4DGi?si=cj2e3pDNR8SNI0EaAob1RA" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #337ab7; font-family: arial; text-decoration: none;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;"> R. Mutt</span></a><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: arial;">, banda de pós-punk que foi crucial para o movimento independente de uma Belo Horizonte que inspirava música e expirava uma geração de artistas experimentais da década de 80. “A cena era incrível, muito inventiva para a época. Os primeiros grupos com quem toquei [R. Mutt, Ida e os Voltas e Divergência Socialista] circulavam na cena do pós punk da cidade, de onde todo mundo saiu”, conta <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Bruno Verner</span>, vocalista, multi-instrumentista e fundador da banda. “Todo mundo tocava em várias bandas e dialogava com diversos tipos de arte. A gente estava aprendendo, experimentando. Era uma promiscuidade artística”</span></div><div class="wp-caption alignnone" id="attachment_24884" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 5px 0px 20px; max-width: 100%; text-align: center; width: 1034px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="rock underground" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-24884" class="wp-image-24884 size-large" height="769" loading="lazy" pinger-seen="true" sizes="(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" src="https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/3rmutt3-1024x769.jpg" srcset="https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/3rmutt3-1024x769.jpg 1024w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/3rmutt3-400x300.jpg 400w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/3rmutt3-768x577.jpg 768w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/3rmutt3-1536x1153.jpg 1536w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/3rmutt3-2048x1538.jpg 2048w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/3rmutt3-600x451.jpg 600w" style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; height: auto; margin: 0px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; vertical-align: middle; width: auto;" width="1024" /></span><p class="wp-caption-text" id="caption-attachment-24884" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 4px 5px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">R. Mutt, foto de divulgação, 1987.</span></p></div><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: arial;">O espírito colaborativo foi essencial para o desenvolvimento de tantos projetos artísticos. Entre cineclubes, sebos, zines e festivais, o underground de Belo Horizonte floresceu graças a uma característica que faltava no eixo Rio-São Paulo: o tamanho da cidade. “A cidade era pequena, então todo mundo se conhecia, participava e emprestava instrumentos uns para os outros. Nós tirávamos o melhor que podíamos de condições difíceis”, lembra Bruno, enquanto mostra os equipamentos que usava nas gravações. A cidade se mostrou um ecossistema muito fértil e favorável às experimentações, e a cena mineira começou a ganhar os palcos em São Paulo. A R. Mutt tocou no Sesc Pompeia, no Madame Satã e no Retrô; outras bandas como a Divergência Socialista, Sexo Explícito e O Grande Ah! também percorreram esse circuito.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Com a chegada dos anos 90, muitas bandas se dissolveram e seguiram outros caminhos. Bruno se mudou para Londres com <span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Eli Mejorado</span>, formando o duo </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Tetine</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">. Lá, já no começo dos anos 2000, eles estrearam um programa de rádio chamado </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Slum Dunk</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">, que ia na contramão do que se esperava ouvir de dois brasileiros. “Queríamos ultrapassar essa ideia de que música no Brasil é só samba e bossa nova. Queríamos ouvir e mostrar coisas diferentes do mundo todo. Na rádio, nós tínhamos acesso livre ao telefone, então fizemos contato com meio mundo.”, conta Eli. O programa transbordou a rádio e em 2005 virou o selo </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Slum Dunk</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">, que estreou com uma coletânea </span><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">Slum Dunk Presents Funk Carioca </i><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">e seguiu com outras obscuridades e sabores da música brasileira, como a coletânea de pós-punk </span><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">The Sexual Life of The Savages </i><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">(lançado em parceria com o selo Soul Jazz em 2005) e um disco das </span><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">Mercenárias</i><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">, lançado apenas na Inglaterra. </span></span></p><div class="wp-caption alignnone" id="attachment_24886" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 5px 0px 20px; max-width: 100%; text-align: center; width: 1015px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="rock underground" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-24886" class="wp-image-24886 size-large" height="1024" loading="lazy" pinger-seen="true" src="https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/5IdaeosVoltas-1005x1024.jpg" style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; height: auto; margin: 0px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; vertical-align: middle; width: auto;" width="1005" /></span><p class="wp-caption-text" id="caption-attachment-24886" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 25px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 4px 5px;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Ida & os Voltas, 1986 – banda irmã do R. Mutt // Da esquerda para a direita: Bruno Verner, Ida Feldman e Bernardo Rennó. A banda contava com os mesmos integrantes do R. Mutt + Ida Feldman (voz) e Aleca – Alessandra Drummond (baixo)</span></p></div><h3 style="box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 20px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: arial; font-weight: 700;">A redescoberta da R. Mutt</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></h3><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Em meio a tantas descobertas sonoras com o Slum Dunk, Eli e Bruno se depararam, durante o período de lockdown em Londres, com o que se tornou o processo de redescobrimento da R. Mutt. “Nós já estávamos em um processo de voltar às bandas da época desde 2018, quando lançamos a coletânea </span><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">COLT 45 Underground Post Punk, Tropical Tapes, Lo-Fi Electronics and Other Sounds from Brazil (1983-1993)</i><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">, resgatando a história do pós-punk nacional”, explica Bruno. As 15 faixas de </span><a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/5pQ2xRWxFFMoqM7SUp4DGi?si=cj2e3pDNR8SNI0EaAob1RA" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #337ab7; text-decoration: none;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Konkret Dance</span></a><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">, gravadas entre 1986 e 1989,</span> <span style="box-sizing: border-box;">exemplificam muito bem a atmosfera artística do pós-punk belo-horizontino. São camadas de som eletrônico costuradas à organicidade sonora de </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Bruno Verner</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"> (guitarra, voz, teclados, programação, samples), </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Karla Xavier</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"> (voz, teclados e percussão), </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Bernardo Rennó</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">(bateria, teclados, percussão, programação, samples), </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Marcos Barreto </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">(baixo) e </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Frederico Pessoa </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">(baixo nas faixas 2, 14 e 15); Não parece ser um disco escondido em uma caixa desde os anos 90, quando a banda acabou. É um disco urgente, pulsante; de hoje e para hoje. Eli conta que ele já nasceu pronto. Só estava esperando a hora certa para tomar vida. E diante desse chamado, desse pulso e impulso pela vida, ela e Bruno souberam que era a hora de jogá-lo no mundo.</span></span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></p><div class="wp-caption alignnone" id="attachment_24883" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 5px 0px 20px; max-width: 100%; text-align: center; width: 1034px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><img alt="" aria-describedby="caption-attachment-24883" class="size-large wp-image-24883" height="1024" loading="lazy" pinger-seen="true" sizes="(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px" src="https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-1024x1024.jpg" srcset="https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-1024x1024.jpg 1024w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-400x400.jpg 400w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-150x150.jpg 150w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-768x768.jpg 768w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-1536x1536.jpg 1536w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-2048x2048.jpg 2048w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-300x300.jpg 300w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-600x600.jpg 600w, https://musicnonstop.uol.com.br/wp-content/uploads/2021/01/1Konkret_Dance_cover-100x100.jpg 100w" style="border: 0px none; box-sizing: border-box; height: auto; margin: 0px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; vertical-align: middle; width: auto;" width="1024" /></span><p class="wp-caption-text" id="caption-attachment-24883" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 14px; line-height: 25px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px 4px 5px;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Capa do álbum Konkret Dance, feita por Eli Mejorado, a partir de um pôster do show da banda, criado pelo baixista Marcos, em 1986.</span></p></div><h3 style="box-sizing: border-box; color: inherit; font-stretch: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 20px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: arial; font-weight: 700;">O lançamento</span><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></span></h3><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Durante o período de produção do </span><i style="box-sizing: border-box;">Konkret Dance</i><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">, Bruno se pôs em contato com os membros da R. Mutt. “Foi muito legal, porque não nos víamos há muito tempo e retomamos o contato, lembramos de histórias e ativamos essa memória coletiva”. Entre rolos de fita e pôsteres de show, eles encontraram a capa – que também nasceu pronta. A arte foi feita por Eli a partir do flyer de um show da banda em 1986, criado pelo baixista Marcos. “Não poderia ter uma imagem mais adequada para esse momento”, diz Eli. No meio desse processo de reconexão com o passado, Karla faleceu, em outubro. O disco já estava se encaminhando para o lançamento e, mais do que nunca, Bruno entendeu que ele era necessário e o momento era esse.</span></span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">E então </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700;">Konkret Dance</span><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"> veio, no primeiro sábado do mês, dia 5 de dezembro. É um álbum que fez a ponte entre um passado apagado da história e um futuro possível. “Sinto que havia uma ingenuidade de nossa parte, pois éramos jovens artistas aprendendo a fazer tudo”, conta Eli. “Acho que, acima de tudo, havia uma intuição. Nós sabíamos que estávamos fazendo algo inovador que se tornaria importante, mas não imaginávamos que faria tanto sentido 34 anos depois”, complementa Bruno. </span></span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: arial;">Talvez tenha sido essa mesma intuição que os guiou para revisitar o passado durante o lockdown. Não fosse essa ingenuidade, não existiria tamanha disposição e coragem para escrever a história não contada de uma banda que diz mais sobre 2020 do que 1986.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-family: arial;">É preciso muita intuição e ingenuidade para fazer as pazes com o presente e imaginar um futuro. Essa tarefa está longe de ser fácil e não há resposta pronta; ela precisa ser construída. E a R. Mutt pode nos ajudar a trilhar esse caminho.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"> </p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 10px;"></p><div class="row" style="box-sizing: border-box; margin-left: -15px; margin-right: -15px;"><div class="col-xs-12 post-footer" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(240, 240, 240); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; float: left; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; min-height: 1px; padding-bottom: 15px; padding-left: 15px; padding-right: 15px; position: relative; width: 877.5px;"></div><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-21249039590010037452021-02-15T03:49:00.001-08:002021-02-15T03:51:17.866-08:00Post Punk Tapes<p><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><p></p><p><span style="font-family: courier;"><i><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here's a virulent new mixtape 'Post Punk Tapes' that Tetine have just put together for the series RARO of Sounds and Colours. The mix features an unorthodox selection of Brazilian post-punk sounds (punk-funk, tropical lo-fi, synthpop & experimental electronic music) mostly recorded between 1982 and 1989 by both iconic and obscure artists. </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">This one contains waves by Divergência Socialista, R. Mutt, Sexo Explícito, Saara Saara, Gang 90 & Absurdettes, Vyzadoq Moe, O Último Número, Harry, Arrigo Barnabé, May East, Ida & Os Voltas and Kodiak Bachine. Check it out, Evoé.</span></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Djk_wGGdXzZ7yU2VFyjkeHi6jRLgyZGA-JPc_xrC1ZqRqvXa5EHtphIEuIFUvBpvTE3AF2kYfHHk6c8J6QKtMBIDKpepR0RI6iDQ2LObzOnIR5PdXE_5gWtZ2u3YToaADNe69WvnPb8/" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="1536" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Djk_wGGdXzZ7yU2VFyjkeHi6jRLgyZGA-JPc_xrC1ZqRqvXa5EHtphIEuIFUvBpvTE3AF2kYfHHk6c8J6QKtMBIDKpepR0RI6iDQ2LObzOnIR5PdXE_5gWtZ2u3YToaADNe69WvnPb8/w391-h391/WhatsApp-Image-2021-01-01-at-15.20.39-1536x1536.jpeg" width="391" /></a></span></div><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><h1 class="entry-title" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #222222; font-family: Tahoma, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 32px; margin: 0px 0px 15px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility; text-transform: uppercase;">RARO 08: TETINE’S POST PUNK TAPES</h1><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="author" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility; white-space: normal;">By <a href="https://soundsandcolours.com/author/joe/" rel="author" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #168dd9; font-size: 1em; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" title="Posts by Joe Osborne">Joe Osborne</a></span><span style="caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; white-space: normal;"> | </span><span class="date" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 0.8em; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700; line-height: 1em; margin: 10px 0px 0px 10px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility; white-space: normal;">01 January, 2021</span></span></p><div class="social-media" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); clear: left; color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; height: 35px; margin: 20px 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility; width: 865.859375px;"><div class="heateor_sss_sharing_container heateor_sss_horizontal_sharing" heateor-sss-data-href="https://soundsandcolours.com/articles/brazil/raro-08-tetines-post-punk-tapes-57283/" ss-offset="0" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; 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background-position: 50% 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; box-sizing: border-box; display: block; height: 35px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility; width: 35px;"></ss></i></li></ul><div class="heateorSssClear" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; clear: both; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;"></div></div></div><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 1em 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;"><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Tetine</span> are Brazilian artists <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Bruno Verner</span> and <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Eliete Mejorado </span>who have been living in Hackney since 2000. Having met in Brazil while making waves in São Paulo’s & Belo Horizonte’s underground art-punk scenes, the two have worked on various audio and visual projects since, often operating through the hybrid universes of electronic music, film, video and poetry. With more than 15 independent albums released by different labels in Europe and Brazil (Soul Jazz Records, Slum Dunk Music, Mr Bongo, Bizarre Music), Tetine are primary purveyors and unrivalled tastemakers within Brazil’s post-punk past and contemporary avant garde.</p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 1em 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Having performed worldwide at innumerable festivals, art galleries, clubs and cinemas, as well as producing radio shows, installations and larger projects, the duo have brought Brazilian underground music and art scenes to the attention of the UK for many years. Alongside producing the first ever compilation of Baile Funk outside of Brazil for Mr Bongo in 2004, the two have garnered accolades for their acclaimed <em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">The Sexual Life of The Savages</em> – an essential primer to early-1980s Post-Punk from São Paulo, (Soul Jazz Records 2005), and more recently, a new collection of obscure cassette tapes entitled <em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Colt 45 – Underground Post Punk, Tropical Tapes, Lo-Fi Electronics & Other Sounds from Brazil 1983-1993</em>. In 2020, Verner and Mejorado released <em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Konkret Dance 1986-89 </em>– the lost first album by post punk quartet R. Mutt (Slum Dunk 2020). This is the starting point for their <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Raro Mixtape</span> – a schooling in the sounds of Brazilian post punk.</p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 1em 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">“This mixtape features a collection of unorthodox post-punk sounds (<em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">punk-funk, tropical lo-fi synthpop & experimental electronic music</em>) mostly recorded between 1982 and 1989 by both iconic and obscure Brazilian artists such as <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Divergência Socialista</span>, <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">R. Mutt</span>, <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Sexo Explícito</span>, <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Saara Saara</span>, & <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Gang 90 & Absurdettes</span>, <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Vyzadoq Moe</span>, <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">O Último Número</span>, <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Harry</span>, <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Arrigo Barnabé</span>, <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">May East</span>, <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Ida & Os Voltas</span> and <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Kodiak Bachine</span>. It explores an underground <em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">post-tropicalist</em> sensibility emerged in the early 1980s with the arrival of independent scenes in key Brazilian cities such as Belo Horizonte, São Paulo, Sorocaba, Niterói, Rio De Janeiro & Santos; and includes rare cuts from self-released cassette tapes, hard-to-find & out of print LPs. </p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 1em 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">“Comprised of tracks we have played over the years in the radio show <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Slum Dunk</span> broadcasted on <span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Resonance Fm 104.4</span> (between 2002-2008), the mix gives continuity to some of our previous efforts to recover the many ‘lost histories’ of Brazilian underground post punk scenes. For Sounds and Colours’ RARO series, we put together a selection of moody samba-noise, angular punk-funk, early tropical synth-pop, dark disco/not-disco, new wave, industrial-dub, atonal electronic cabaret, and marginal poetry. We hope you enjoy it.”</p><figure class="wp-block-embed is-type-rich is-provider-mixcloud wp-block-embed-mixcloud wp-embed-aspect-21-9 wp-has-aspect-ratio" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; margin: 0px 0px 1em; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;"><div class="wp-block-embed__wrapper" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; position: relative; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;"><iframe frameborder="0" height="120" src="https://www.mixcloud.com/widget/iframe/?feed=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.mixcloud.com%2Fsoundsandcolours%2Fdanz-on-mixtape-08-tetines-post-punk-tapes%2F&hide_cover=1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border-width: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px; max-width: 100%; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" title="Raro Mixtape 08: Tetine's Post Punk Tapes" width="100%"></iframe></div></figure><h4 style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: "Lucida Grande", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin: 1.33em 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Tracklisting</h4><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 1em 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">Gang 90 & Absurdettes – Jack Kerouac<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Vzyadoc Moe – Não Há Morte<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Sexo Explícito – Caso Você Não Me Convença, Eu Continuo Achando O Que Você Pensa<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Divergência Socialista – Thomas Morus Dub / Aqui & Aqui<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Saara Saara – X<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Arrigo Barnabé – Tubarões Voadores<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />R. Mutt – Konkret Dance<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Divergência Socialista – Fahrenheit 451 / Jeanne Seberg<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />May East – Elementais<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Harry – Caos<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Vzyadoc Moe – O Incerto<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Divergência Socialista – Maysa / Mother N.851<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Ida & Os Voltas – Cadê a Embaixatriz / Revolta<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />R. Mutt – A Terça Parte<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Gang 90 – Ela<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />May East – Twilight Zone<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />R. Mutt – Versus<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Tetine – Eu Tô em Chamas<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Lado B – Nos Céus do Haiti<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />O Último Número – Dama da Noite<br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;" />Kodiak Bachine – Eletricidade</p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 1em 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;">This mix series plays on the Hispanic and Lusophone homonym, “Raro”. “Raro” holds two meanings in Spanish and Portuguese: “rare” and also “strange”. Sounds & Colours’ Raro Series is a crate-diggers’ mix series which embraces both meanings. Over the course of on hour, our guest DJ will delve into Latin America’s unknown, underappreciated and unbelievable music and reveal its hidden gems.</p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(64, 64, 64); color: #404040; font-family: Raleway; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.6; margin: 1em 0px; padding: 0px; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black;" /></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: inherit; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /></div></div>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-41325714100262709552020-12-07T15:05:00.001-08:002020-12-07T15:07:54.594-08:00R. Mutt - Konkret Dance 1986-89 <p><br /> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPjSFvV3tqMeU3S4iNjAaO1COabz5BI14wWaWAHNJmwpez3qsB2oF6wvYE284UH48_QG2k70SVzdrrTVn6ZTNRUomaMIG8YDkyBcijUzfpSAESf5x6yw_SUG_DdN3kNEKyIzJeIKtUFE/s2048/Konkret_Dance_cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdPjSFvV3tqMeU3S4iNjAaO1COabz5BI14wWaWAHNJmwpez3qsB2oF6wvYE284UH48_QG2k70SVzdrrTVn6ZTNRUomaMIG8YDkyBcijUzfpSAESf5x6yw_SUG_DdN3kNEKyIzJeIKtUFE/w640-h640/Konkret_Dance_cover.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b><span lang="PT-BR">R. Mutt - Konkret Dance 1986-89<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 5pt;"> </span></b><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /><b><i>Konkret Dance 1986-89</i></b> é um álbum do quarteto pós-punk/eletrônico <b>R. Mutt </b>formado em Belo Horizonte em 1986. O disco traz 15 canções gravadas entre 1986 e 1989 período em que o banda se manteve ativa, revelando (e recuperando) o que seria seu primeiro disco, a partir de gravações compiladas de suas duas únicas fitas cassete, respectivamente intituladas R. Mutt 1 e 2, além de registros de shows e ensaios.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><b><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;">R. Mutt</span></b><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;"> foi um grupo experimental formado por <b>Bruno Verner</b> do Tetine nos vocais, guitarra, teclados, programação e samples (também integrante dos grupos Divergência Socialista, Ida & os Voltas, O Grito Mudo na mesma época), <b>Karla Xavier</b>, (AKT e The Gilbertos) nos vocais, teclados e percussão, <b>Bernardo Rennó</b> na bateria, teclados e eletrônicos (Ida & Os Voltas, O Grito Mudo), <b>Marcos Barreto Bashô</b> no baixo (Cuevos) e <b>Frederico Pessoa</b>, baixista na primeira formação da banda.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;">Fazendo uso de sintetizadores analógicos, drum-machines e samplers baratos para a criação de paisagens sonoras distópicas e glaciais; e com instrumentação tanto eletrônica quanto acústica (percussão em metal, baixo, guitarras e bateria); o <b>R. Mutt </b>produziu um universo sônico particular ao mesmo tempo, melódico, austero, expressionista, lírico-dada surrealista, melancólico e percussivo; combinando vocais femininos e masculinos (falados-cantados), introspecção folk, eletrônica kraftwerkiana de baixa fidelidade, goth, punk e dub com influência das vanguardas modernistas do começo do século 20.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;">Parte da mesma cena pós punk belo-horizontina de grupos como Divergência Socialista, Sexo Explícito, O Ultimo Número, Ida & Os Voltas, Hosana Nas Alturas, Xiitas, Alma Ciborg, Os Contras, Sylvia Klein, Crime-Ópera entre muitos outros, R.Mutt percorreu todo o circuito underground local do período, se apresentando em bares, clubes, cineclubes, universidades, cinemas e auditórios da cidade, tendo realizado shows em São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Belo Horizonte e Juiz de Fora em importante espaços, instituições e clubes do underground da época como Madame Satã, Espaço Retrô, Sesc Pompéia, Teatro Cenário, Complexo B, Crepúsculo dos Deuses, DCE da UFMG, ICBEU, PUC, entre muitos outros.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><b><i><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;">Konkret Dance 1986-89</span></i></b><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;"> traz uma coleção de momentos distintos da banda, incluindo desde os seus experimentos eletrônicos até o seu lado mais folk e acústico, revelando ao ouvinte um repertório obscuro do pós-punk brasileiro (incomum e diverso), composto tanto por paisagens dub-industriais atmosféricas e improvisadas, quanto por synthpop cósmicos e outras experimentações pós-tropicalistas. Além das gravações em estúdio, o álbum<b> </b>inclui ainda registros inéditos ao vivo do grupo no lendário clube paulistano <b>Madame Satã</b> - como o registro da canção eletrônica expressionista ‘Dunkles Lied’, cantada em Alemão), além de faixas inéditas gravadas no projeto <b>Rock Líquido </b>na PUC em 1987 em Belo Horizonte.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 5pt;"> <br /></span><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;">O grupo se desfez em 1989 com Bruno Verner formando <b>Um ou Não</b> & <b>Tetine</b> com Eliete Mejorado no início da década de 1990 em São Paulo, e a vocalista e tecladista Karla Xavier, formando o grupo feminino pós-punk <b>AKT</b> com Sandra Coutinho (Mercenárias), Biba Meira (Defalla) e Dequinha (Bruhaha Babélico), e em seguida, <b>The Gilbertos </b>com seu marido Thomas Pappon no início dos anos 1990.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;">Produzido e recuperado por Bruno Verner em Mi Casa Es Su Casa.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;">Arte: Eliete Mejorado – a partir de um poster original da banda de 1987.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;">*<i> </i>In memoriam de Karla Xavier, que morreu tragicamente em um acidente de bicicleta em Londres durante a concepção deste disco. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_yLzGQEvuV4" width="320" youtube-src-id="_yLzGQEvuV4"></iframe></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IyY_vaJFB5U" width="320" youtube-src-id="IyY_vaJFB5U"></iframe></div><br /><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span><p></p></div><p></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-86592292584501751012020-11-30T05:42:00.003-08:002020-11-30T05:42:35.877-08:00Diamnada Galás on the politics of music, voice, reverberation, darkness, harshness, poetry, tragedy, isolation & more ...<p><span data-offset-key="5hb4u-0-0" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Diamnada Galás on the politics of music, voice, reverberation, darkness, harshness, poetry, tragedy, isolation, limitation.... composing</span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/M_hQvZPFQok" width="320" youtube-src-id="M_hQvZPFQok"></iframe></div><br /> <p></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-74429867852374530492020-11-29T08:58:00.010-08:002020-11-29T08:58:59.844-08:00Historia, Historiografia, Brizola ...<p> ''<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.199999809265137px;">A verdade é que Leonel Brizola foi, como se dizia antigamente, um subversivo e dialético historiador. Em A história da Irlanda Engels dizia que a historiografia mais bem paga é a que melhor falsifica a história para atender os desejos e propósitos da burguesia. Não é preciso dizer mais nada, nem me foi perguntado.''</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13.199999809265137px;">Gilberto Feliserto Vasconcellos</span></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-54670043567480424032020-11-19T02:58:00.004-08:002020-11-19T03:07:55.022-08:00R. Mutt - Konkret Dance 1986-89 (New Release out Dec 5, on Slum Dunk Music SDM 15)<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwsk4kheBl6vkuRuwKuxmv_5hCAQGyg4THAphOUj_v6KOwwBlZ2ZPX8BXrzB2s_AQfjmchcpqWEqoClt4C_1FN7Dn-a30fkfJhfHDy278Lx3pSC1QdCzhpdWqnbRZhD1pUyPq5T3m4nY/s2048/Konkret_Dance_cover.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="558" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtwsk4kheBl6vkuRuwKuxmv_5hCAQGyg4THAphOUj_v6KOwwBlZ2ZPX8BXrzB2s_AQfjmchcpqWEqoClt4C_1FN7Dn-a30fkfJhfHDy278Lx3pSC1QdCzhpdWqnbRZhD1pUyPq5T3m4nY/w558-h558/Konkret_Dance_cover.jpg" width="558" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">R. Mutt - Konkret Dance 1986-89</span><o:p></o:p></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 6pt;"><br /></span><b><i><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">Konkret Dance 1986-89</span></i></b><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> is the unreleased first album by Brazilian post-punk quartet R. Mutt from Belo Horizonte, Brazil. The record features a collection of 15 songs recorded between 1986-89 taken from their only two cassette tapes, respectively self-titled 1 & 2.<b><i><o:p></o:p></i></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">R. Mutt was an experimental post-punk / electronic group formed in 1986 by Bruno Verner on vocals, guitar, keyboards and sampling (also on Tetine, Divergência Socialista, Ida & os Voltas), Karla Xavier, on vocals, keyboards and percussion (also on AKT), Bernardo Rennó on drums, keyboards, electronics and percussion (also on Ida & Os Voltas), Marcos Basho on bass-guitar and Frederico Pessoa, bass-player on the first line-up. Some of the band’s recordings were included in the compilation <b><i>Colt 45 - Underground Post Punk, Tropical Tapes, Lo-Fi Electronics and Other Sounds from Brazil 1983-1993</i></b>, previously released on Slum Dunk Music in 2018. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">Making use of drum machines, synths and cheap samplers, R. Mutt's dystopian echoing soundscapes combined glacial electronic instrumentation with female and male half-spoken/half-sung vocals; folk introspection, dark basslines & metal percussion, with an urgent and poetic dada-surrealistic lyricism. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="PT-BR" style="font-size: 10.5pt;">Part of the same iconoclastic art-punk scene from Belo Horizonte of bands such as Divergência Socialista, Ida & Os Voltas, Sexo Explícito, O Último Número, Hosana Nas Alturas, Xiitas, Alma Ciborg, Os Contras, Sylvia Klein, Crime-Ópera amongst others, R.Mutt performed in several local underground bars, clubs, cinemas, universities and auditoriums; playing shows in São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Belo Horizonte & Juiz de Fora in venues such as Madame Satã, Espaço Retrô, Sesc Pompéia Complexo B, Crepúsculo dos Deuses, DCE da UFMG, Icbeu, PUC, Teatro Cenário among others.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><b><i><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">Konkret Dance 1986-89</span></i></b><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;"> features distinct moments of the group, drawing on their electronic experiments through to their goth-punk-industrial and folk/acoustic side; revealing to the listener an unusual and overlooked Brazilian post-punk repertoire of atmospheric dub-landscapes, ambient, cosmic synth-pop and percussive experimentation, with a penchant for an icy & lyrical-melancholic expressionist<i> post-tropicalist </i>instrumentation. The album also includes performances of the band at the legendary São Paulo underground club <b>Madame Satã </b>in 1987<b>,</b> as well as other live registers recorded at Belo Horizonte's <b>Rock Líquido</b>project in 1988 held at PUC University's student union.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">The group disbanded in 1989 with Bruno Verner later forming <b>Tetine</b> with Eliete Mejorado in the early 1990s in São Paulo, and vocalist & keyboard player Karla Xavier, forming the all-female post punk outfit <b>AKT</b> with Sandra Coutinho (of Mercenárias), Biba Meira (of Defalla) & Dequinha (Bruhaha Babélico), and later on, <b>The Gilbertos</b> with her partner Thomas Pappon (also on Fellini).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">Produced and remastered by Bruno Verner at Mi Casa Es Su Casa. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">Art Cover by Eliete Mejorado – from an original concert poster of R Mutt from 1987.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 5pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: 10.5pt;">* </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;">In memoriam of Karla Xavier, who have tragically died in a bicycle accident in London on October 4<sup>th</sup>, 2020.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjybJ8u0bx5JFP9VRRHEqRnwZsn21frdWvxGH0TxN05LaH5DtdVkvYECs7Snh4LuQZegdhAAQEBE7s1mheuZho3wg75Sn6Vaz4XmRBXHZyf8RnSxaO-M3SkhtoP0lROQIJ-xIUdjszqQ/s2048/26840688_10156226662607845_4556138990418985453_o.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimjybJ8u0bx5JFP9VRRHEqRnwZsn21frdWvxGH0TxN05LaH5DtdVkvYECs7Snh4LuQZegdhAAQEBE7s1mheuZho3wg75Sn6Vaz4XmRBXHZyf8RnSxaO-M3SkhtoP0lROQIJ-xIUdjszqQ/w474-h355/26840688_10156226662607845_4556138990418985453_o.jpg" width="474" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"> </p><div style="text-align: center;"> <span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i> R. Mutt (Bernardo Rennó, Marcos Basho, Karla Xavier, Bruno Verner). 1987</i></span></div><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p> </p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-64950108727376873952020-10-30T16:45:00.003-07:002020-10-30T16:45:24.558-07:00CONDFEITO PODCAST EP.22 - TETINE+ YOKO AFI <div class="kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Here's a two-hour long nice conversation we had with Muep Etmo for his brilliant CONDEFEITO PODCAST, check it out. (audio only)</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Conversação boa para o PODCAST CONDEFEITO do grande Mueptemo do </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><a class="oajrlxb2 g5ia77u1 qu0x051f esr5mh6w e9989ue4 r7d6kgcz rq0escxv nhd2j8a9 nc684nl6 p7hjln8o kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x jb3vyjys rz4wbd8a qt6c0cv9 a8nywdso i1ao9s8h esuyzwwr f1sip0of lzcic4wl q66pz984 gpro0wi8 b1v8xokw" href="https://www.facebook.com/mirellabrandixmuepetmo/?__cft__[0]=AZWDRXgLvpIHdgHFvuw78i0Kryd_0sddG-tn5ec-9ns6IPWs-ic3M8js594d6x-zXixZnTe-K2E42bfoeWjvYec07k3ChgTlegytbt5sfwnTCGIOJjYWtFgOlFCs8kgkRpEaYcWlPDS_29wA1pI9wa3pKO8NjI1GLygmO7jr3gaKdxAVlmH5aqGl3Kin_NYxbao&__tn__=kK-R" role="link" style="border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: var(--accent); cursor: pointer; display: inline; font-family: inherit; list-style: none; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-align: inherit; text-decoration: none; touch-action: manipulation;" tabindex="0"><div class="nc684nl6" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">Mirella Brandi x Muepetmo</div></a></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">! 2 hrs sem cortes sobre várias ondas (& não-ondas tb)...musica, vida, performance, arte, prática, tempo, conhecimento(sx), jaulas, prisões culturais, emocionais, filme, cinema, discos antigos (+ música + anti-música). Ouça aqui:</span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bqHbTZq47vQ" width="320" youtube-src-id="bqHbTZq47vQ"></iframe></div> <br /><br /><p></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-65672440578095257012020-10-15T03:07:00.003-07:002020-10-15T03:08:38.660-07:00The End of White Supremacy, An American Romance by Saidiya Hartman<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">Here's a wonderful piece by Saidiya Hartman on W. E.B Dubois's The Comet (1920), meditating on love, on the skin, on improvisation, on the gaze, on the infinity of moments/histories of white supremacy, on birth, on flesh, on death, on dispossession of future, on forms of abolition, on pandemias, on intimacy, on mothering, on the human swirl ...<a href="https://bombmagazine.org/"><img border="0" height="24" src="blob:https://www.blogger.com/c0979917-46ec-4c0e-906d-746efca2b024" v:shapes="Rectangle_x0020_1" width="24" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><b><span style="font-size: 34pt;">The End of White Supremacy, An American Romance by</span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><b><span style="font-size: 34pt;"><br /></span></b></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center; vertical-align: baseline;"><b><span style="font-size: 34pt;"> <a href="https://bombmagazine.org/authors/saidiya-hartman"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; color: blue; padding: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">Saidiya Hartman</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><b><br /></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><b>Published at Bomb, June 5, 2020.</b></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">He watches the human swirl as it moves determinedly along Broadway. Perched at the top of the stairs, the customers and employees of the bank brush by as he hesitates near the entrance. A nod, a look of recognition, a meager hello, a begrudging acknowledgment that he exists are not forthcoming. The street is teeming with people. No one glancing casually at him would use a phrase like “towering figure” or waste a moment wondering about his position at the bank; words like<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">idle</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></span><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">or<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">lingering</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></span><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">or<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">un-mastered</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></span><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">or<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">servile</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></span><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">brush at the murky edges of consciousness, latent and without the full awareness or deliberateness of thought, because most of the men rushing through the streets of the financial center rarely perceive him.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"> </span></i></span><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Few noticed him. Few ever noticed him except in a way that stung. He was outside the world—“nothing!”</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></span><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">When their eyes land on him, he feels the gaze like a blade against his skin and his body retreats from the assault, anticipating where a blow might land, flinching before the kick. His flesh has become a sensor. His muscles are tense.</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; transform: translate(-6px, -6px);"><span class="footnote"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Frantz Fanon,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Black Skin, White Masks</span></em><span class="footnote"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">. Tr. Richard Wilcox (1952: reprint New York: Grove Press, 2008) 99. </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Wretched of the Earth</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"> </span></span><span class="footnote"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">(1963: reprint New York: Grove Press, 2005) 16.</span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></span><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The distance between the landing and the sidewalk isn’t great, yet he inhabits one world and the white men in their suits and ties, advancing and walking briskly through the streets, exist in another. No, it is more like they are in the world and he has been cast out. (Now isn’t the time to explain why this is so, or to offer a biographical sketch of a black messenger in New York, or a grand theory of how the African became a captive and then a commodity, or detail the forms of servitude that conscript black life, or offer a picture of the enclosure, or explain why the bank is the threshold to the everything and nothing that is the Negro, the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">pieza de India</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">, chattel, ambulatory real estate, which are the variants of his dispossession. To provide the reasons why or expound on such matters would be premature before the context of the story has been properly established, its author credited, the characters named, the scene arranged and the plot set in motion; and it would risk stating the obvious: he is not at home in the world. I could elaborate and provide additional elements, for example: he appears so small against the backdrop of the grand edifice, diminished by the solidity and mass of the granite structure and the frame of huge Doric columns, but these details are not provided in the story, so the steps as easily could be concrete and the bank without columns, in which case the mahogany doors at the entrance would have to suffice in conjuring the majesty of capital and empire. The navigation acts, international trade agreements, traffic in slaves, maritime insurance, stolen life and land necessary to harvest mahogany, to fell trees, to transport them to Europe and North America, and craft doors would stand in back of the beauty of the dark wood and the polished brass fixtures.</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; transform: translate(-6px, -6px);"><span class="footnote"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Cameron Rowland,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">3 & 4 Will. IV. c.73</span></em><span class="footnote"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">, ICA London, 2020.</span></span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0.75rem; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0.75rem; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">His is a name blank and generic enough to be a pseudonym or alias, a homonym for everyman, the masculine possessive extended even to the dispossessed, a name that makes you nobody at all; it is also a name freighted with meaning because of another’s journey in a raft along the Mississippi, trying to make his way toward freedom, but headed in the wrong direction, every direction is the wrong direction, every path thwarted and yielding to betrayal, and so that even when on the run and in flight, even when carried along by the river’s currents, even when he still has so many rivers to cross, the fugitive can’t shake the condemnation permanently affixed to the name like a cruel title, a brutal address.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Nigger Jim</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Jim Crow</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Crow Jim</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">. A name found in first grade primers and in children’s rhyming games:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Him, Jim, Slim</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">. Like his namesakes, he too ekes out an existence bound to violence, subjected to insult and injury, surviving from one day to the next under the threat of death. It is hard to forget all of those eager for him to die, awaiting his disappearance, obsessed with denying him the right to exist even in this lesser state. (Now isn’t the time to narrate the history or describe the set of circumstances that produced this negation or to introduce terms bereft of musicality: accumulation (originary or primitive or recurring), fungibility, natal alienation, kinlessness; or limn the forces that landed him on the steps of the bank located in the financial district, the predatory heart of the city, and relegated him to the lower depths, as nothing, as nobody; or disclose that arrested on the steps of this cathedral to capitalism, as if it were the crossroads between being a man and being nothing at all,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">he could almost weep</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">.)</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; transform: translate(-6px, -6px);"><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Black Skin, White Masks</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"> </span></span><span class="footnote"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">119.</span></span></span><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0.75rem; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">____</span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0.75rem; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; text-align: left;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">You look at me, but you don’t see me. You wouldn’t care if you did.<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; transform: translate(-6px, -6px);">The World, the Flesh and the Devil</span></span></em><span class="apple-converted-space" style="text-align: left;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"> </span></span><span class="footnote" style="text-align: left;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">(1959).</span></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0.75rem; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0.75rem; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">I have said too much and strayed too far from him, tense and anxious in the late morning looking out at the world from the corner of Wall Street and Broadway, just a few blocks away from one of the first slave markets in New Amsterdam; I have digressed from the particular drama that will unfold over the course of the day when the disaster creates an opening or a leveling that might allow him to breathe inside his skin and be released from the enclosure of nothing and the condemnation of blackness.</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit; transform: translate(-6px, -6px);"><span class="footnote"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Khalil Muhammed,</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"> </span></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">The Condemnation of Blackness</span></em><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"> </span></span><span class="footnote"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">(Harvard 2010).</span></span></span><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Slightly before noon, the destruction of the world will afford the chance for him to be human like other men. The weird radiance and minor music produced by the collapse of the order, by the catastrophe, will offer the promise of black life uncontested.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0.75rem; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0.75rem; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">The comet. Everybody was talking of it. Even the president [of the bank] as he entered, smiled patronizingly at him, and asked:</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-stretch: inherit; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0.75rem; vertical-align: baseline;"><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“Well, Jim are you scared?”</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“No,” he answered shortly.</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“Oh, by the way, Jim,” turning again to the messenger, “I want you to go down to the lower vaults today.”</span></em><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;" /></span><em style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: inherit; font-stretch: inherit; font-variant-caps: inherit; line-height: inherit;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">The messenger followed the president silently. Of course, they wanted him to go down to the lower vaults. It was too dangerous for more valuable men.<o:p></o:p></span></em></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">As he descends into the underground, the yawning blackness of the inner chamber engulfs him. He finds the two volumes of records and discovers an iron chest, at least a hundred-years-old and rusted shut. Upon prying open the lock, he encounters the dull sheen of gold. The lost records of the bank and its hidden booty, gold locked away and forgotten, discovered by a man of no value—provide a tidy allegory of capitalism and slavery. The crypt harbors the secrets, the disavowed knowledge and missing volumes on which the great financial edifice rests, the same history that has relegated Jim to the bowels of the earth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The gold found in the fetid slime-filled den occupied only by rats is not the staging for a story of treasure discovered, or a tale of man’s fate changed by wealth; this tableau of the hold, the lost records, the gold, and the black is a primal scene of modernity’s genesis. In this sunken place, slavery is the thematic ground,<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">See Hortense Spillers, “Changing the Letter: The Yokes, The Jokes of Discourse, or Mrs. Stowe, Mr. Reed,” <i>Black, White, and in Color</i> (Chicago: University of Chicago, 2003).</span> although not explicitly mentioned. Held by capital, in a manner of speaking, he is confronted with his origins and pricked by the realization, the uncanny feeling of an equivalence or doubling between the gold in the trunk and the Negro in the vault, a state a philosopher has described as a pieza framework, the awareness of one’s existence as a thing, as a commodity, a ratio of value (and the refusal to accept this).<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">See Sylvia Wynter, “Beyond the Categories of the Master Conception: The Counter-doctrine of the Jamesian Poesis,” <i>C.L.R. James’s Caribbean</i>. Ed Paget Henry & Paul Buhle (Duke, 1992).</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Boom! The heavy stone door of the inner chamber closes unexpectedly trapping him inside.<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;"> After what seemed endless hours</span></i>, he manages to pry it open and escape. Ascending from underground to the level of the valued men and skilled workers, he encounters the dead bodies of the vault clerk, the bank guards, the tellers, the accountants, and then the president slumped at his desk. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">A new thought seized him: if they found him here alone—with all this money and all these dead men—what would his life be worth?</span></i> Less than nothing. It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t done anything; his existence makes him guilty, and to make matters worse, he is alive and white men are dead. When he exits from the side door of the bank, stealthily, fearing that he will be blamed for the carnage, he sees the dead everywhere, on Wall Street, on Broadway. It is noon, yet the world is absolutely still.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The body of a dead newspaper boy lies in the gutter. In the boy’s clenched hand, the noon edition warns of the devastation too late. A comet has passed through the earth’s atmosphere releasing poisonous gases that kill the entire population of New York. The world is dead.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The story recounted is W.E.B. Du Bois’s “The Comet,” a speculative fiction about the end of the world written after the pandemic of 1918, after the Red Summer of 1919, and in the context of colonial expansion and atrocity. In this climate, Du Bois wrote <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Darkwater</span></i>, which was published in 1920, exactly a century ago, yet still prescient. “The Comet” is the book’s penultimate chapter. The work is an assemblage of stories, essays, poems, prayers, songs, parables and hymns, and an inventory of violence, (which examines whiteness, lynching, servitude, imperial war, the damnation of black women, colonialism, capitalist predation, as well as beauty, chance, death, and the sublime). The tone of the collection oscillates between rage and despair; some might even describe it as an ur-text of afropessimism, but its mood is more tragic; its bright moments are colored by a desire for a Messianic cessation of the given, stoked by a vision of the end of the world, welcoming the gift of chance and accident, and embracing the beauty of death. What else is to be expected after decades of terror and disappointment? After black women and children and men are murdered, lynched, mutilated, and burned alive in the streets of East St. Louis, after four boys floating on a raft in Lake Michigan on a July afternoon drift into the “white-only waters” inciting the rage and retribution of ordinary white folks who are transformed quickly into a ravenous mob, murdering one of the boys and on a mission to kill, maim, and wound any Negro crossing their path. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Darkwater</span></i> is a <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">red record</span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Ida B. Wells, <i>A Red Record</i>, 1895.</span> of modern whiteness in the twentieth century, a chronicle of the settler republic and its routine violence, an atlas of “a world in flames,” a litany for the slaves and natives exploited and murdered by European and New World masters.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">The influenza pandemic of 1918 does not appear in this inventory. Perhaps because microbes seemed benign when compared with the bloodletting of the Red Summer. Or because for every year between 1906 and 1920, black folks in cities experienced a rate of death that equaled the white rate of death at the peak of the pandemic.<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">James Feigenbaum, Christopher Muller, Elizabeth Wrigley-Field, “Regional and Racial Inequality in Infectious Disease Mortality in U.S. Cities, 1900–1948,” <i>Democracy</i> 56 (2019) 1371–1388.</span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">When the Spanish influenza arrived, they simply died in even greater numbers, but they had been enduring a pandemic for over a decade. Du Bois resisted the impulse to calculate comparative mortality or produce a death table because it was all too obvious. He knew that the facts of blackness, the statistics, the mathematical equations, and the calculations of probability would not change anything.<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Katherine McKittrick, “Mathematics Black Life,” <i>The Black Scholar</i> 44.2 (2014).</span> They had been allowed to die in great numbers without a crisis ever being declared.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Amid the pandemic, he was still thinking about the work of the mob, about East St. Louis, Brooks and Lowndes County, Georgia, and what Walter White’s article in The Crisis (September 1918) described as “the holocaust of lynchings.” The murder of the men was brutal enough, but what the mob did to Mary Turner was so revolting and the details so horrible that as editor Du Bois was reluctant to share them. Mary Turner had dared to say that the murder of several men, including her husband, was unjust and that she would name the persons in the mob who lynched her husband and have warrants sworn out against them. Near the bridge over the Little River, she was hung to a tree, doused with oil and gasoline, then set on fire. “While she was yet alive, a knife, evidently one such as used in the splitting of hogs, was taken and the woman’s abdomen split open, the unborn babe falling from her womb to the ground. The infant, prematurely born, gave two feeble cries and then its head was crushed by a member of the mob with his heel. Hundreds of bullets were then fired into the body of the woman, now mercifully dead, and the work was over.” Du Bois believed that telling such stories mattered. In hindsight, he would explain this earnestness (the belief that intelligent argument and reasoned judgment might defeat racism) as a consequence of not having read psychoanalysis. He “was not sufficiently Freudian to understand how little human action is based on reason”<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">W.E.B. Du Bois, “My Evolving Program for Negro Freedom” 41, 57.</span> or to apprehend the deep psychic investment in racism, what others have since described as the libidinal economy of an antiblack world.<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">See Jared Sexton, “Afro- Pessimism: The Unclear Word,” Rhizomes, Issue 29 (2016). Darieck Scott, <i>Extravagant Abjection</i> (NYU, 2010). Calvin Warren, <i>Ontological Terror</i> (Duke, 2018).</span> He had assumed that “the majority of Americans would rush to the defense of democracy,” if they realized that racism threatened it, not only for blacks, but for whites, “not only in America, but in the world.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">While pessimism required little justification in this climate, Du Bois struggled to imagine how the world might be reconstructed, how it might be possible to nurture <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">a hope not hopeless, even if unhopeful</span></i>.<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“The Passing of the First Born,” <i>The Souls of Black Folk</i>, 1903.</span> “The Comet” is a speculative fiction and satire of failed democracy. The story envisions the undoing of the color line and its apportionment of life and death, its gratuitous violence and “propensity for murder without reason.”<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">See Aimé Césaire, Discourse on Colonialism 1955 (NYU Press, 2000); Achille Mbembe, <i>Critique of Black Reason</i> (Duke 2019); and Frank B. Wilderson III, <i>Red, White & Black</i> (Duke 2010).</span> Environmental catastrophe<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">On anti-blackness and a post-human world, see Axelle Karera, “Blackness and the Pitfalls of Anthropocene Ethics,” <i>Critical Philosophy of Race</i> 7.1.(2019) 32-56 and Zakiyyah Iman Jackson, <i>Becoming Human</i> (Fordham University Press, 2020).</span> produces this sweeping transformation. The paradox is that human extinction provides the answer and the corrective to the modern project of whiteness, which Du Bois defines as <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">the ownership of the earth forever and ever</span></i>, the possessive claim of the universe itself. The stranglehold of white supremacy appears so unconquerable, so eternal that its only certain defeat is the end of the world, the death of Man. Neither war nor rights have succeeded in remaking the slave into the human or in eradicating racism. In the wake of the disaster, the messenger, the last black man on earth, will be permitted to live as a human for the first time. “I am alive, I am alive,” he could shout in the streets of Manhattan, without fear of punishment or reprisal. He is alive because the world is dead.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">In the destroyed world, he experiences a state of freedom that he has never before enjoyed. In the ruins of the metropolis, he is able to enter a fine restaurant that would have refused him or any other Negro service. It wouldn’t serve him yesterday, but the breach between the old world and the now affords new opportunities. For the first time, he moves about the city without anticipating violence or insult. There are no white citizens or police to regulate or arrest his movement. There is no Other to withhold or confer recognition, although it is hard to shake the feeling that someone is watching him. After an exhausting search in lower Manhattan, he fails to discover any other survivors. It is a mass extinction: <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">everywhere stood, leaned, lounged, and lay the dead, in grim and awful silence.</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It is hard to believe that everyone is dead. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Was nobody…? He dared not think the thought. Suddenly he stopped still. He had forgotten. My God. How could he have forgotten?</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;"><br /></span></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It is unclear exactly who or what has been forgotten. A lover, his mother, a wife? He remembers them belatedly. Are they an after-thought? Or is this oversight or neglect the symptom of a greater predicament of wounded kinship and the precarity of black social life, rather than the sign of any lack of feeling? Only after he accepts that no one else is alive in the city does he remember the nameless them, the ones suspended between everybody and nobody. It is unlikely that he will find the forgotten, but he rushes uptown anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">On his way to Harlem, he hears a sharp cry and discerns <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">a living form</span></i>leaning out of the window of a building on Seventy-Second Street. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Hello—hello—help, in God’s name!</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Clearing the path of dead bodies that have prevented any exit or escape, he enters the apartment building. Another survivor. At first, all that registers is a living form, animate matter. The extinction has toppled the vertical order of “human, not-quite human, not human”<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Alexander Weheliye, <i>Habeas Viscus</i> (Durham: Duke, 2016).</span> and bridged the gulf between the sovereign and the fungible. For a moment the only distinction that matters is the one between the living and the dead, a chasm no longer secured by race. At the end of the world, blackness registers as life and the Negro as human.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It is a temporary reprieve.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">He had not noticed she was white. She had not noticed before that he was a Negro.</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Then she can’t miss it, can’t fail to notice his dark skin and rough laborer’s hands.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Not that he was not human</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">, she reflects, <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">but he dwelt in a world so far from hers, so infinitely far, that he seldom even entered her thought.</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Looking at the black man who saves her from utter abandonment in the destroyed city, she thinks how peculiar it is—a black man strangely her savior.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">He did not look like men as she had always pictured men. He was something more than a stranger.</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Her interior monologue borrows language from “The Souls of White Folk,” an essay on the philosophy of the white world in which Du Bois writes: “White culture is evolving the theory that ‘darkies’ are born beasts of burden for white folk… They are not ‘men’ in the sense that Europeans are men.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He cannot fail to notice that she is white and a woman, “rarely beautiful and richly-gowned with darkly golden hair and jewels.” <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Yesterday, he thought with bitterness, she would have scarcely looked at him twice. He would have been dirt beneath her silken feet.</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">I wanted to be a man, and nothing but a man.</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">By the time he arrives in Harlem, after a meal “looted” from a fine restaurant, after wandering around the abandoned city searching for survivors, after finally remembering the everybody he has nearly forgotten, after heading uptown late, after rescuing a living form, a lovely white stranger, and arriving with her in tow, it is too late to rescue anyone else. 135th Street is dead like the streets everywhere else in the city.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He leaves her in the car and returns quickly.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“Have you lost someone?” she asks. “I have lost—everybody,” he said, simply—“unless.” He ran back and was gone several minutes. “Everybody,” he said, and he walked slowly back with something film-like in his hand, which he stuffed into his pocket. </span></i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">He apologizes for dragging her to Harlem, for taking the time to find his everybody, before they searched for her father and fiancé. </span><i style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“I’m afraid I was selfish,”</span></i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> he mutters. They head downtown. Everywhere is the same—silence and death.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">When they arrive at the Metropolitan Tower, her father, J.B.H.—the initials are inscribed on his stationery—and her fiancé, Fred, are not in their offices. All Julia finds is a note: <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Dear Daughter, I’ve gone for a hundred-mile spin in Fred’s new Mercedes. Shall not be back before dinner. I’ll bring Fred with me.</span></i> Hers is a world of proper names and legible relations. She fears her father and fiancé are dead. For the first time, she feels the full import of her situation; she is alone in the world with a black stranger. He was <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">a man alien in blood and culture—unknown, perhaps unknowable. It was awful!… He must not see her again. Who knew what awful thoughts—</span></i> What might he do? Anticipating the awful thing, she flees from him and into the safety of streets filled with the bodies of the dead. The stench and the destruction of the world prove too much for her to suffer alone, so she returns to him, the only other survivor.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Her first words are: <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“Not—that.”</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It is an indictment and a plea.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He answers slowly, emphatically: <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“No—not that!”</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">At the end of the world, she fears him more than the unknown.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">She recoils, trembling, <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“Don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.”</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“That’s good. That’s very funny,”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> he replies. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“We are probably the last two people left in the world and all you can say is don’t touch me.”</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“I am afraid,”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> she says.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“I can see that. Don’t worry, I won’t touch you.”The World, the Flesh and the Devil</span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">.</span><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Later when she wants him to touch her, he will refuse, anxious that the world might be restored.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">This unlikely couple roam and search the city for hours, but they find no one. They call out for help, send telegraphs and messages in Morse code; they shoot flares, but no one answers. In this state of abandonment, they shelter for the night on top of the Metropolitan Tower. The hush of the city is palpable. The only sounds are of <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">the dark and restless waters</span></i>surrounding the island. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">The water lapped on in luring, deadly rhythm.</span></i> He thinks, <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">It would be easy to die.</span></i> Quietly he asks, <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“The world lies beneath the water now—May I go?”</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“No,” she answers in a voice clear and calm.</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> She keeps him in the world. Together <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">they turn toward life again.</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">The world was darkening to twilight… The ghastly glare of reality seemed replaced with the dream of some great romance.</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“How foolish our human distinctions seem now,”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> she said looking down to the great dead city.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“Yes—I was not—human yesterday,”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> he said. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">She looked at him, <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“And your people were not my people,”</span></i> she said, <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“but today—”</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“Death, the leveler!”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> he muttered. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“And the revealer,”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> she whispered gently, rising to her feet with great eyes. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">A vision of the world had risen before her.</span></i> It is a vision of the world to come. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">She was no mere woman. She was primal woman; mighty mother of all men to come and Bride of Life. She looked upon the man beside her and forgot all else but his manhood, his strong vigorous manhood—his sorrow and sacrifice. She saw him glorified.</span></i> He too is transformed and no longer bound by the crushing weight of his caste. The end of the world has freed him. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">The shackles seemed to rattle and fall from his soul.</span></i> In the graveyard of the world: <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Their souls lay naked to the night. It was not lust; it was not love—it was some vaster, mightier thing… Behind them and all around, the heavens glowed in dim, weird radiance that suffused the darkening world and made almost a minor music.</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The minor music, the sonorous echo of earth released from the order of men, resonates in the leveled city, announcing this new state of relation inaugurated by the apocalypse, a state in which blackness is no longer relegated to nothing and death. Catastrophe produces this vast romance, as if ruin is the prerequisite for interracial love, as if the enclosure of blackness could only be breached and caste abolished by the destruction of the world. Is abolition a synonym for love?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">They moved toward each other… They cried each to the other, almost with one voice, “The world is dead.”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> These words are portent with greater promise than “I love you.” Before they can repeat again the beauty of this phrase, “the world is dead,” or revel in its demise and the promise of a world yet to come, or exclaim “we are all human or all nothing in our shared destitution,” they are interrupted by the blare of an automobile horn that stifles the minor music, the hum and murmur of earth without Man. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Honk! Honk! The mad cry of the world.</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The dead city has awakened, and the white men have returned, including Julia’s father and her paramour. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“My daughter!”</span></i> her father sobs. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Fred, the fiancé, whispers, “Julia, my darling, I thought you were gone forever.” “Are you unharmed?” Turning towards Jim, he snarls, “Why! It’s a nigger—Julia! Has he—has he dared—”</span></i> Jim is returned to his proper place, to the zone of nonbeing, to the negation of <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">nigger</span></i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“He has dared—all to rescue me,” she said quietly, “and I thank him much.”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> Julia utters these words without looking at the black man at her side. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">She did not look at him again</span></i> and we are to assume that she never will. The return of the world has dashed any vision of interracial love; he is no longer glorified, but fixed forever as a man of lesser value.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">They are never done talking of man, yet murder men everywhere they find them.</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">A crowd of white men pours from the elevators and onto the roof, eager to see the sole survivors of New York.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“Who was saved?”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">“A white girl and a nigger—there she goes.”</span></i><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /><br /><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“A nigger? Where is he? Let’s lynch the damned____”</span></i><br /><br /><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“Shut up—he’s all right—he saved her.”</span></i><br /><br /><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“Saved hell! He had no business____”</span></i><br /><br /><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“Of all New York, just a white girl and a nigger.”</span></i><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Fixed under their gaze and dissected in the hot glare of white hatred and electric lights, he is a shrinking dazed figure. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Nigger</span></i> is repeated to make visceral the violence that accompanies the restoration of the world, to remind him of the hatred that is its substrate. The clock has been turned back, and once again he is barred from the human. He stands silently beneath the glare of the light with the flat unseeing eyes of a sleepwalker and broken by the sweet experience of <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">what might have been</span></i>. He hears nothing. From his pocket, he pulls out a baby’s cap.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">A <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">brown, small and toil-worn woman</span></i> makes her way through the crowd with the corpse of a dark baby in her arms. They are the everyone he has searched for on 135th Street and presumed were dead. No one appears curious as to how she has made her way from Harlem to the financial heart of the city. The matter of her survival is not a cause for concern or wonder. She is not beautiful or richly gowned, just efficient. An exhausted black woman is a familiar figure, a drudge conscripted to care for all. She arrives on the roof at the moment the white mob is deliberating about his fate. She is a marked woman, but they don’t call her Queenie or bitch. They part and allow her to pass unmolested. He doesn’t call her name. For a moment, she rescues him from those harsh eyes. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">With a cry she tottered toward him.</span></i> She calls his name. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">“Jim!” He whirled and, with a sob of joy, caught her in his arms.</span></i> He utters a sob in the place of her name, as if a cry were better than a name, as good as any vow of love. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">To his surprise, she is standing there, still in love with him. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">With a cry, she tottered toward him. He whirled and, with a sob of joy, caught her in his arms.</span></i> The entire text of their relationship is confined to these few meager lines at the conclusion of the story. A facile ending to a dystopian tale? Not by any stretch. The corpse-baby casts into doubt any hope about the future, since the genealogical line ends abruptly and prematurely in her arms, the dead offspring attenuates the vision of what might be, deprives them of generation and legacy, hints at her failure to nurture and protect. What kind of mother can’t save her child? These unsettling last lines don’t provide any sense of closure or resolution, although they do offer a glimmer of relation in the wake of devastation.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">A sob escapes his lips when he sees her, but he doesn’t call her name, perhaps because the symbol of who they are or who they fail to be outweighs any difference or particularity; or they remain trapped in a morality play about the black family, caught in a recursive loop that dooms any possibility of a happy ending. He doesn’t utter the words “sister” or “wife”; he doesn’t whisper “baby, I thought…” or kiss the forehead of the dead infant. She is the baby’s mother. Who else would navigate the city with a dead child in her arms? Yet the exact terms of relation or filiation are never clarified or explained, as if this form of intimacy were without suitable terms. Maybe, they prefer it this way, not captured or explained by the usual lexicon. The body of the child—the remains of an eclipsed future—makes plain what we are reluctant to acknowledge: they are not able to live as others live, nor are their children. This rapport with death, this life-in-death, challenges any taken-for-granted aggrandizement of life and its distinction or separation from death.<span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Karrera, “Pitfalls of Anthropocene Ethics” and Jared Sexton, “Affirmation in the Dark: Racial Slavery and Philosophical Pessimism” <i>The Comparatist</i>, 43 (October 2019).</span> Yet, still, there is a sob of joy and the embrace of a toil-worn woman and rough-looking laborer with a dead baby cradled between them. Of course, they are denied “the vast romance” of interracial love, promising a new set of arrangements, a new race of humans. Beautiful strains of minor music no longer sound in the cityscape, just the quiet of the hot white incandescent lights and the mutterings of angry men.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">He sobs and they embrace. A fragile web of love and relation connects the three figures, a condition evident in the unspoken or withheld terms of address. Even if he is the father, the dead baby in her arms throws into unrelieved crisis the ability to produce generations, let alone a future that they can secure. This marks ineradicably the character of their intimacy and its delicacy. They will attempt to restart their lives, gather what is left of them, make a plan for survival, and try to carry on given all that has been lost. How will they build a life again in the devastated city? The restoration of the world appears to confirm the impossibility of black futures, the inescapable character of wounded kinship and negated maternity. What is possible for the toil-worn woman and her brother man? Certainly not a legacy. Neither she nor her dead child can promise that.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Should they stay or should they run? She contemplates another horizon.</span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Hortense Spillers, <i>Black, White and in Color</i> (Chicago, 2003); Denise Ferreira da Silva, “To Be Announced,” Social Text 31.1 (Spring 2013) and “Hacking the Subject,” <i>philosophia</i> 8.1 (Winter 2018); and Zakiyyah Iman Jackson, <i>Becoming Human</i> (NYU, 2020).</span><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">____<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">A century later, the scene will be repeated. When the pandemic overtakes the city, they will die in greater numbers, they will suffer more. When the mob arrives, they will be as courageous as Mary Turner and call out the names of their killers. They will not yield; they will not be moved. In this other variant, the question is no less pressing: How is love possible for those dispossessed of the future and living under the threat of death? Is love a synonym for abolition? In a turquoise Impala, they drive from Louisiana to Florida, hoping eventually to make their way to Cuba, a place where they might elude the death awaiting them and escape becoming property of the Ohio Department of Corrections, slaves of the state. A love theme drifts through the car. Fugitive, running a thousand miles toward freedom, flying down a path with no ending, colliding with each other, he asks her what she wants. She says: “I want a guy to show me myself. I want him to love me so deeply that I am not afraid to show him how ugly I can be.” She asks him what he wants. “I want someone that’s always gonna love me no matter what. Someone that’s gonna hold my hand and never let it go. She gonna be my legacy. Look, I ain’t gonna bend the world.”<i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Queen and Slim</span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;"> (2019).</span> <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">A million days in your arms</span></i> echoes in the background as they argue about Luther’s early and late style. The expected and tragic end only serves to underscore the lesson of “The Comet”—their love is without legacy. It won’t defeat the world or make them immortal or shield them from gratuitous violence, or spare the children, but they are grateful for love. Of all the things that love makes possible: eyes that see you, someone to hold your hand until the end, adore you even in your ugliness, kiss you a thousand times, hold you when you are carrying on like <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">that bitch</span></i>, do everything for your baby, even swing a knife for your love, risk it all for one last dance, exchange vows even when there isn’t a chance in hell of being together, see heaven all in her eyes, carry a corpse-child through the devastated city in search of him, miss her until it breaks you, not want anybody else to ever love you, the one thing it is not able to do is confer a legacy or guarantee a future. <i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; padding: 0cm;">Your love is all I need</span></i>—a beautiful lie, a necessary refrain that helps you survive in the meantime, experience tragedy after tragedy, endure another scene of grief, as if “our love” was fortification and always enough.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: inherit, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The trio on the roof of the Metropolitan Tower will not produce a new race of men and the fugitive couple murdered on the tarmac will not enjoy a free state or make their way to Cuba. Yet, while trapped in the graveyard of the world and bereft of any future they can count on, they hold one another, sob with joy, never let go of each other’s hand, reveal their scars, embrace as they fall, listen to the infinite playlist of love in a world where black life is all but impossible.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><b><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Saidiya Hartman is the author of </span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments</span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">(W. W. Norton, 2019), </span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Lose Your Mother: A Journey Along the Atlantic Slave Route</span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">, and </span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Scenes of Subjection</span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">. A MacArthur “Genius” Fellow, she has been a Guggenheim Fellow, Cullman Fellow, and Fulbright Scholar. Her work has appeared in the </span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">South Atlantic Quarterly</span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">, </span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Brick</span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">, </span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Small Axe</span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">, </span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Callaloo</span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">, the </span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">New Yorker</span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">, and the </span></i><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;">Paris Review</span><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">. Hartman is a professor at Columbia University and lives in New York.<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><b><br /></b></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify; vertical-align: baseline;"><i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><b>Theory + Practice is a series supported by the Shelley & Donald Rubin Foundation.<o:p></o:p></b></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><o:p><b> </b></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><b> </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><b> </b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></span></em></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><em><span style="border: 1pt none windowtext; font-size: 13.5pt; padding: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></span></em></p><p style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 19.5pt; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; vertical-align: baseline;"><span face="Univers, sans-serif" style="font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><o:p> </o:p></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-69849438107284458992020-10-12T05:39:00.002-07:002020-10-12T05:39:24.711-07:00MICROFONIA <p><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Apareça Erik Satie,</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: #f9f9f9; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tetine performing a (re)-version of 'Microfonia' (Bruno Verner, Eliete Mejorado, Yoko Afi & Marcelo Dolabela), song originally written in 1988 for the post punk group Divergência Socialista. Recorded live on July 3rd, 2020 at SARAU DADALOBELA. [ Echoes remain forever, apareça Erik Satie ]
Bruno Verner - piano, voz, fx
Eliete Mejorado - vox, sampling and fx
Yoko Afi - cello</span></p><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Uma rápida microfonia capta o ouvido quando silencia.<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tetine - Microfonia (Bruno Verner, Eliete Mejorado, Yoko Afi, Marcelo Dolabela) - canção gravada ao vivo sexta-feira passada a meia noite de Londres. </span></div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">piano, voz - Bruno Verner </div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">voz, sampling & re-semantics - Eliete Mejorado </div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">cello - Yoko Afi</div></div><div class="o9v6fnle cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql ii04i59q" style="caret-color: rgb(5, 5, 5); color: #050505; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0.5em 0px 0px; white-space: pre-wrap; word-wrap: break-word;"><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;">Não há mesquinhez no mundo que detenha o eco.</div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/d6zdu_n9J48" width="320" youtube-src-id="d6zdu_n9J48"></iframe></div><br /></div></div>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-71943494095195914082020-10-12T05:31:00.000-07:002020-10-12T05:31:06.040-07:00LATER<p>LATER is a short video movement on air, ghosts, invisibility, detention and longing. For dance, cello, pigeons and typewriter. </p><p><br /></p><p>Recorded during lockdown July / Aug 2020 for the French-Brazilian project-site Territoire Sensible. </p><p>Dancer - Bruno Verner</p><p>Music - Yoko Afi </p><p>Images, sounds & editing - Eliete Mejorado</p><p><br /></p><p><a class="sc-bAeIUo ciaufA" href="https://vimeo.com/452364075" style="box-sizing: border-box; caret-color: rgb(123, 128, 132); color: inherit; cursor: pointer; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-decoration-line: none; text-decoration: none;"><span class="sc-iujRgT emPJNe" format="primary" style="-webkit-appearance: none; border: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; color: #00adef; display: inline; font-size: inherit; line-height: inherit; padding: 0px; position: relative; transition: all 0.1s ease-in-out;"></span></a></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvHtL5csaglU2MWww1uvgFqE6mfrk65GwkrTB0A4dyFCKDBUBkSUazuaE_DGiz0Jm_cOC2fNh7q-lDxqsrV7SOorY6J9aqwBsw0XshyphenhyphenZ7BEjuHxsORoLLDCzk5NnJQzP1DogYGb5kWFk/s2048/Screenshot+2020-10-12+at+13.27.07.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvHtL5csaglU2MWww1uvgFqE6mfrk65GwkrTB0A4dyFCKDBUBkSUazuaE_DGiz0Jm_cOC2fNh7q-lDxqsrV7SOorY6J9aqwBsw0XshyphenhyphenZ7BEjuHxsORoLLDCzk5NnJQzP1DogYGb5kWFk/w616-h386/Screenshot+2020-10-12+at+13.27.07.png" width="616" /></a></div><br /> Watch it here: https://vimeo.com/452364075<p></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-55692041904275429512020-08-14T03:44:00.000-07:002020-08-14T03:44:25.812-07:00THE ETHER - Prelude No. 1 by Tetine & Yoko Afi - a film-performance conceived for the Pink Umbrellas Art Residency / Aug 2020<p><span style="caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMziUwZxiwbvvYPbkKXOrQLYsphmMgfZYJ9pmnLduAATHGe6rErDsFvHgbhpxK48ZwVyHdGc9uN6_Vb7bj0hMNUAYTao-s8PMTl5gg9CubV4nfe8K-NP2x0tYH4MRePN1QVQG0gQRvZgw/s2048/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.29.02.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMziUwZxiwbvvYPbkKXOrQLYsphmMgfZYJ9pmnLduAATHGe6rErDsFvHgbhpxK48ZwVyHdGc9uN6_Vb7bj0hMNUAYTao-s8PMTl5gg9CubV4nfe8K-NP2x0tYH4MRePN1QVQG0gQRvZgw/s640/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.29.02.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">TETINE & YOKO AFI</span></p><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
THE ETHER – Prelude No.1
THE ETHER is a reflective sonic-aphasic (dis)rhythmic meditation in the form of a prelude (for cello, dance, waste, air, wind, body and breathing). The piece comprises of 7 distinct yet complementary slow movements that explore the atmospherics and metaphysics of untamed syntaxes of time, space, voice, rhythm and breathing. The prelude speaks of stillness, becomings, luminosities, value, respiration, and body fluids, as it investigates the ghostly presences/absences manifested in the landscape through sound, dance, gesture and silence - whilst responding to the secret ontologies of inanimate objects, architectures, the politics of dreams as well as, the echoes and ethics of the modes of operating things. Conceived as an ode to the poetics of slowness, suspension, divinity, unfitness and wait, The Ether echoes the uncapturable, and echoes Tetine's recurrent and unconditional love for Beckett’s philosophical theatrics of existence, un-communicability and non-performance.</span><div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bruno Verner, August 2020
The Ether – Prelude No. 1 (in 7 movements)
1. Prologue
2. Aphasia, waste and pine
3. The Air is The Same
4. Disritimia (Un) clock
5. My boots don’t fit, my feet hurt
6. San Sebastian Doll
7. They Call Us for An Encore
Original music: Yoko Afi and Tetine
Cello, trumpet, voice: Yoko Afi
Piano, voice, dance: Bruno Verner
Electronics, sampling, editing and fx: Eliete Mejorado
TETINE are ELIETE MEJORADO and BRUNO VERNER.
BRUNO VERNER is a Brazilian, London-based composer, artist and poet. With ELIETE MEJORADO, he formed TETINE - a hybrid tropical-mutant-punk-funk organism born in São Paulo in 1995. Since then both artists have created a multitude of performance, sound and art-related works from the spoken word to electronica, including ritualistic performances, installations, radio, film & video and independent curatorial projects.
</span><a class="yt-simple-endpoint style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" href="https://www.youtube.com/redirect?v=3wHvUHJ2Ue8&event=video_description&redir_token=QUFFLUhqbmN0LXQ3RlVrdXYtS295OGZTZWhlckxoOTcxUXxBQ3Jtc0trcFZDRTVlWGpwX3pWSWJub0w2VERtc2xrQUQxMV9VS1RzQ0h4WXFIYU1RanIzaTFHWkd2bXN1TlJqRVEtUjFLczdMMGFKMjc0QWI5U3ZHN25rSHZkbHVCYlBUX2ZVRlZOOGhCc0Uxd0V0NDNLaENqOA%3D%3D&q=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.tetine.net%2F" rel="nofollow" spellcheck="false" style="color: var(--yt-endpoint-visited-color, var(--yt-spec-call-to-action)); cursor: pointer; display: inline-block; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-decoration: var(--yt-endpoint-text-regular-decoration, none); white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank">http://www.tetine.net/</a><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
YOKO AFI is a young cellist and composer based in London. She has recently been awarded the Joan Scrutton’s Awards for Young Musicians in the UK to study at the prestigious Guildhall Junior School of Music and Drama. Yoko has written and performed the original music for The Ether - Prelude No.1.
INTERNATIONAL ONLINE ARTISTIC OCCUPATION
Artistic occupation that will show every Monday, at 5 pm GTM-3, the experience of artists from different areas and different places, which they gather to create from a distance and immerse themselves in an experience of language displaced from each artist's "common place", in addition to thinking the Internet itself as a creative and amplified possibility.</span></div><div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3wHvUHJ2Ue8" width="320" youtube-src-id="3wHvUHJ2Ue8"></iframe></div>
[PT]
O ÉTER - Preludio No.1
O ÉTER é uma meditação sônica-afásica reflexiva (des) rítmica na forma de um prelúdio (para violoncelo, dança, resíduos, ar, vento, corpo e respiração). A peça é composta por 7 movimentos lentos, distintos, mas complementares, que exploram a atmosfera e a metafísica de sintaxes indomadas de tempo, espaço, voz, ritmo e respiração. O prelúdio fala de quietude, devires, luminosidades, valor, respiração e fluídos corporais, pois investiga as presenças / ausências fantasmagóricas que se manifestam na paisagem através da som, dança, gesto e silêncio - enquanto responde às ontologias secretas de objetos inanimados, arquiteturas, a política dos sonhos, bem como os ecos e a ética dos modus operandis das coisas.
Concebido como uma ode à poética da lentidão, suspensão, divindade, incapacidade e espera, O Éter ecoa o incapturável e ecoa o amor recorrente e incondicional de Tetine pelo teatro filosófico existencial de Beckett, incomunicabilidade e não performance.
TETINE é ELIETE MEJORADO e BRUNO VERNER.
BRUNO VERNER é um compositor, artista e poeta brasileiro radicado em Londres. Com ELIETE MEJORADO, formou o TETINE - um organismo híbrido tropical-mutante-punk-funk nascido em São Paulo em 1995. Desde então, os dois artistas criaram uma infinidade de trabalhos performáticos, sonoros e artísticos, da palavra falada à eletrônica, incluindo performances ritualísticas, instalações, rádio, filme e vídeo e projetos curatoriais independentes.
YOKO AFI é uma jovem violoncelista e compositora radicada em Londres. Recentemente, ela recebeu o Prêmio Joan Scrutton para Jovens Músicos no Reino Unido para estudar na prestigiosa Guildhall Junior School of Music and Drama. Yoko escreveu e executou a música original para O Éter - Prelúdio No.1.</span></div><div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7wO7JYvyYRbaqXfzSM7ER2uHp393aHH61SVgGBQch6hntP58-wUCcXm4EW7Vvr0ex8JKRslKGsL0TkvRU9NX1KQhisak_KdhDyz5Z01yRzf8-igYulIic9tN98a1Uf_8IVu1oWnYRNQw/s2048/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+12.17.03.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7wO7JYvyYRbaqXfzSM7ER2uHp393aHH61SVgGBQch6hntP58-wUCcXm4EW7Vvr0ex8JKRslKGsL0TkvRU9NX1KQhisak_KdhDyz5Z01yRzf8-igYulIic9tN98a1Uf_8IVu1oWnYRNQw/s640/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+12.17.03.png" width="640" /></a></div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrnEb7GcjBQfqzgDPq6DC4wnKHqT9s9FgnjKyEi2Qt5OnTyc6z3Lwy0acS-h6PJ69p5Xb910fL_QxyxYiSRRuShQZtidvD_DnEfM-WKppKLRKqpVB5j6NoQONhNzmdjN7qVpE-MiX6CZU/s640/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.28.22.png" style="text-align: left;" width="640" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSMsm7vzc9Xs7_KH1uKCdQglZc7KyQbq-EoYzsAFxJZl6_wCHc0C1SN6lP_oYpAJwzudDPi0v__6RFns2SIgtgwYaWsBiF-GfpW5TGEKg0f_w-eeYGNaCurLScqUn9Csy02c_9IwDLik/s2048/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.32.09.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iW3bm0_Pj9F0cl4havoMbK5iCpvXJ4Q0eDIuQRT50W3Y1ePrfQJmxfxaaRBus8skMtAgBkVChvO_FAy594x0ImRU-PCOrrXlbvm7Pz7O3d5l45uZ-D0wr6AzmPoqY071iaQBZZH5NEg/s2048/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.30.51.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_iW3bm0_Pj9F0cl4havoMbK5iCpvXJ4Q0eDIuQRT50W3Y1ePrfQJmxfxaaRBus8skMtAgBkVChvO_FAy594x0ImRU-PCOrrXlbvm7Pz7O3d5l45uZ-D0wr6AzmPoqY071iaQBZZH5NEg/s640/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.30.51.png" width="640" /></a></div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Watch it here:</span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3wHvUHJ2Ue8" width="320" youtube-src-id="3wHvUHJ2Ue8"></iframe></div><span class="style-scope yt-formatted-string" dir="auto" style="border: 0px; caret-color: rgb(3, 3, 3); color: #030303; font-family: Roboto, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-11221057054280059712020-08-11T05:14:00.009-07:002020-08-12T06:53:35.024-07:00UMA MULHER NÃO PODE VACILAR - COMUNICADO <p> <span face="" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="">COMUNICADO<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang=""> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="">UMA MULHER NÃO PODE VACILAR<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="">Violados somos nós, todos os dias tendo que lidar, por todo e qualquer lado que você esteja com o <i>moralismo corporativista</i> do capitalismo global-mundial que suporta toda e qualquer violência (e portanto toda plataforma existencial), mas viola SEMPRE a MULHER! Aonde os meus peitos e meu corpo te violam?? Você é permitido ver todos os tipos de violência possíveis todos os dias, hora, minuto e segundo (incluindo as de sempre com mulheres) - mas com um peito e um parto não se brinca. Ser ‘artista’ hoje, em condições mais que precárias, e em meio a esse moralismo estúpido que impera em toda e qualquer espaço-tempo virtual, existencial – não é para iniciantes. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="">Veja bem, nosso filme “The Ether – Preludio No. 1” foi retirado do canal do Pink Umbrellas Art Residency no Youtube por VIOLAR Youtube’s terms & services. O filme participa de um projeto coletivo de residência (e resistência) artística. Um projeto bonito, necessário, sem amarras com grandes instituições, museus e etc... orquestrado e nutrido carinhosa e independentemente por Mirella Brandi & Mueptemo. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="">Todos os vídeos produzidos pelos artistas convidados são armazenados no canal de Youtube do Pink Umbrellas, e toda segunda-feira acontece a estréia de um trabalho inédito, envolvendo a colaboração de dois artistas. Pois então, ontem foi o dia da estréia do nosso filme ‘The Ether’- Prelude No.1 (um momento esperado como uma performance com hora marcada, um público que acompanha e etc). O filme é uma meditação reflexiva sônico-afásica (des) rítmica de 22 minutos e meio na forma de um prelúdio para violoncelo, dança, ar, vento, corpo e respiração em 7 movimentos lentos, distintos e complementares. Enquanto o filme estava sendo exibido pela primeira vez em real time, ao chegar nos 12 minutos, ele foi interrompido bruscamente pelo Youtube. A primeira coisa que pensamos foi que nossa conexão não estava rolando e depois que não tínhamos enviado o arquivo certo. Ou era um problema técnico na plataforma ... Literalmente cortaram assim no meio da exibição, sendo que os dois últimos movimentos (6, 7) não tinham sido exibidos ainda. Enfim, na hora os curadores do Pink Umbrellas também não entenderam, e então todos chegamos a conclusão de que tinha sido um problema técnico na plataforma. Algumas horas depois, o 'problema' foi resolvido, e o Pink Umbrellas subiu o filme de novo, e reprogramou uma nova estréia para hoje a tarde dia 11 de Agosto as 5 horas, horário do Brasil. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="">Hoje de manhã, eis que vamos anunciar o novo link – e então nos deparamos com o fatídico (YOUR VIDEO HAS BEEN REMOVED FOR VIOLATING YOUTUBE’S TERMS).<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">Como diria a canção: “Uma mulher não pode vacilar”. Mais uma vez fomos censurados pelo mesmo problema, tal qual na época em que fizemos "Todas As Mulheres do Mundo" com o também independente e resistente Museu Do Louvre Pau Brazyl no centro de São Paulo. O PROBLEMA SE CHAMA MULHER. E UMA MULHER NÃO PODE VACILAR, NUNCA.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="">O filme será exibido hoje as 5 horas do Brasil novamente, porem para maiores de 18 anos. Caso isso não aconteça, disponibilizaremos o filme completo pelo VIMEO – e não junto com todos os outros artistas e trabalhos criados especialmente para o Pink Umbrellas Art Residency. Quem tiver interesse é só assistir no nosso ‘canal’ – o filme estará disponível durante toda essa semana sem cortes.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="">TETINE (Bruno Verner, Eliete Mejorado e Yoko Afi)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang="">London, 11 de Agosto de 2020.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span lang=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy6tM25Iw0RK9Mbi0DORSLF8xYjjO9XvBqJ1aHRizcoFV9nGV9jkB4o5ef82WFBgGjBiW1zGNUK82yFL8pz_n6ihAElFQKeHcTtUj4PAUd5Kl0VTnMaDoaMR40TQ7AhQxeeiUZ38BGvrI/s960/116339482_10157198933031691_7857711096530203712_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy6tM25Iw0RK9Mbi0DORSLF8xYjjO9XvBqJ1aHRizcoFV9nGV9jkB4o5ef82WFBgGjBiW1zGNUK82yFL8pz_n6ihAElFQKeHcTtUj4PAUd5Kl0VTnMaDoaMR40TQ7AhQxeeiUZ38BGvrI/s640/116339482_10157198933031691_7857711096530203712_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35eFaqMStH2BW9rrSZco38ehjCfGTyBRciRIQIddWeIg7tD5cdhzEKGOmeKTyrpPpQE4YouzQnbxNE085S0KKNKz3pi6QFEnj-RKejSrP3JHfP1d7w_Gm5ogS4DqIrxU387SA8Cba1xY/s2048/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.29.32.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh35eFaqMStH2BW9rrSZco38ehjCfGTyBRciRIQIddWeIg7tD5cdhzEKGOmeKTyrpPpQE4YouzQnbxNE085S0KKNKz3pi6QFEnj-RKejSrP3JHfP1d7w_Gm5ogS4DqIrxU387SA8Cba1xY/s640/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.29.32.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm3jqChK8E-uB2lG7H2G1pZnPiu_oKuqiFIZ7U6IzJiwxMEYagA6gYgfy1KtugrlT_r6YCaF1on3byAJ_FDLa0O5wFb5xMLlM1ym8c4-aWHq9cqK5dmiem2mKToP1ss6_p9BA71UH2y6A/s2048/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.29.02.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm3jqChK8E-uB2lG7H2G1pZnPiu_oKuqiFIZ7U6IzJiwxMEYagA6gYgfy1KtugrlT_r6YCaF1on3byAJ_FDLa0O5wFb5xMLlM1ym8c4-aWHq9cqK5dmiem2mKToP1ss6_p9BA71UH2y6A/s640/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.29.02.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8hyhDpbgMk40zTSIvJtPC1GYhEt8GWAer1-C7_x4gJ3zHvupJy6GsWXf7MWYr5N1MD0zJjYgwFHm_tP3REEvU0UmXG00e-51cS6N1eBR5bRiABFVT2X5hyphenhyphen7mE05gIHL3WmfbCnoJtM6k/s2048/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.32.02.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8hyhDpbgMk40zTSIvJtPC1GYhEt8GWAer1-C7_x4gJ3zHvupJy6GsWXf7MWYr5N1MD0zJjYgwFHm_tP3REEvU0UmXG00e-51cS6N1eBR5bRiABFVT2X5hyphenhyphen7mE05gIHL3WmfbCnoJtM6k/s640/Screenshot+2020-08-03+at+20.32.02.png" width="640" /></a></div><span lang=""><br /></span><p></p>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-47342692058379209292020-07-07T02:13:00.000-07:002020-07-07T02:52:06.928-07:00July 7th - no estômago (É preciso livrar o corpo do ódio)<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Se existe uma coisa que eu não suporto e me faz cuspir fogo pelas ventas é mesquinhez direcionada à alguém que respeito, admiro e amo. Ainda mais quando DOU / DAMOS nosso tempo, amor e poétics. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Já vi todos de tipos de mesquinhez em mais de 35 anos ’trabalhando’ e navegando como ‘artista’ IN-DE-PEN-DEN-TE nesse antro-branco-neoliberal de 'pessoas boas’, 'gente justa’ e ‘honesta'. Se abrir a bem a boca um dia aparece um livro com mais de 500 paginas, casos, retalhos, gente que foi, gente que vem, gente que aparece de novo, gente que morre, gente que ressuscita … </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Essa velha e surrada gramática da displicência disfarçada de um coletivismo frouxo (na verdade o ápice de um projeto mesquinho e pouco poético de individualismo). Em outras palavras aquela inveja sebosa altamente nociva que nada mais é do que PURA FALTA de GENEROSIDADE com o outro. Gente que não tem nada a oferecer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">NUNCA COLOU COMIGO. NAO COLA e nem vai colar. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">MESQUINHEZ não, barão! Sai de mim.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">Evoé!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "helvetica"; font-size: 12px;">PS: se vc achou que ninguém viu, todo mundo viu, inclusive o morto.</span>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-20153201526807030882020-07-07T00:50:00.000-07:002020-07-07T00:50:34.201-07:00Microfonia (Bruno Verner & Marcelo Dolabela)<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;">July 3rd, Side B of Sarau Dadalobela - Tetine plays a re-version of Microfonia (Bruno Verner & Marcelo Dolabela) written in between 1988-89 while part of the post punk group Divergência Socialista. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tmsu_VpWxQwrF0dkwl3boaunjyVS9xZ7XmTzFI46skWkRPaaANjNJPcAfWsEjZWmrZm92jx9lCTzUPN4pTDMTKeiV8-xBOVHS1dVu4hq8SdIfbojM8D_0YY18UjsTnsNGcx44xn2nUA/s1600/106497560_4041780775896777_2551157982370751726_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1tmsu_VpWxQwrF0dkwl3boaunjyVS9xZ7XmTzFI46skWkRPaaANjNJPcAfWsEjZWmrZm92jx9lCTzUPN4pTDMTKeiV8-xBOVHS1dVu4hq8SdIfbojM8D_0YY18UjsTnsNGcx44xn2nUA/s640/106497560_4041780775896777_2551157982370751726_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-76740374684128999082020-07-05T04:12:00.000-07:002020-07-05T04:12:05.417-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px;">Premiere of the documentary Eletronica:Mentes online as part of In Edit Brasil. </span></div>
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Today July 5 at 21:00 (CET).<br />Worldwide, online, one night only<br /><a class="profileLink" data-hovercard-prefer-more-content-show="1" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/event.php?id=2477935619095595&extragetparams=%7B%22source%22%3A108%2C%22action_history%22%3A%22%5B%7B%5C%22surface%5C%22%3A%5C%22post_page%5C%22%2C%5C%22mechanism%5C%22%3A%5C%22surface%5C%22%2C%5C%22extra_data%5C%22%3A%5B%5D%7D%5D%22%2C%22has_source%22%3Atrue%2C%22__tn__%22%3A%22%2CdK-R-R%22%2C%22eid%22%3A%22ARCEShzSscfa-rFhBTHv0LhNOa3SFx1rCSSjikGIiQ2tv0cZCV_YojXjzB5Qkt4baSMJt2QnY2PZNCWN%22%2C%22fref%22%3A%22mentions%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/events/2477935619095595/?acontext=%7B%22source%22%3A108%2C%22action_history%22%3A%22%5B%7B%5C%22surface%5C%22%3A%5C%22post_page%5C%22%2C%5C%22mechanism%5C%22%3A%5C%22surface%5C%22%2C%5C%22extra_data%5C%22%3A%5B%5D%7D%5D%22%2C%22has_source%22%3Atrue%7D&source=108&action_history=%5B%7B%22surface%22%3A%22post_page%22%2C%22mechanism%22%3A%22surface%22%2C%22extra_data%22%3A%5B%5D%7D%5D&has_source=1&__tn__=K-R&eid=ARCEShzSscfa-rFhBTHv0LhNOa3SFx1rCSSjikGIiQ2tv0cZCV_YojXjzB5Qkt4baSMJt2QnY2PZNCWN&fref=mentions&__xts__%5B0%5D=68.ARAUMLUbu8sQnY8JMo5OrXlJAFDIi-T3qUBnZq4kbfdpMMBIRKCbIQz8c11NhxwkNZRy1i0bnYT3yLJWYZR8iKwNBfMqIvfVWMV1TYf2cADmy6BRgqb4T3lHacqF_i5LhGYxZbgON9jLL0iSJPbuEjHdrUmPsCHqp3yEcIbrA8DG51GgM_JEbLt6MZRi_7LPBu8olLIjE7L9OfJAjed_wBsOaBkO8FWnVACsVUZfEHnx0cWSB_5putwXJW4TFbJiQ-rFKm6WKJY8cLc1bgeC0zbYJauDTremLxYpCmwV3JoA0M4jEKlnzNy8-kgpC6BDvC1JtkeG2cJE-l49RA" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;">https://www.facebook.com/events/2477935619095595/</a></div>
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You can watch it with English subtitles here:<br /><a data-ft="{"tn":"-U"}" data-lynx-mode="origin" data-lynx-uri="https://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fbr.in-edit.org%2F%3Ffbclid%3DIwAR0-MbXMkvzf7tPKlXtY5UuOAJpkuMNXGhL-cUtIrvVdYzN8Nn1W-94ojQw&h=AT2I2WVFPOjdeFjDvkocd0m-6kSw6Gzc6454LplmF4_XuvqPvMMC_DZJCaVS7zgtg88UNsKDyuy1lV3Vj_TeG5n7_G8xK3w9OyfFw5OL5Ugas3wM_FWNTejZoNuJ9Y9siS4jYObfLbCsJAy35sSej7Fz95qaMPqVPUhyZv1D9_gNim9ytfXxtM7zt6s19TXA2ktl8mQZ-YoNfUVyj1Ylb-lxubg5ED7zVIUCd2jr0djdKFdL61n4hKWdpIsyNxmE-ovnfrDz37KUZJ3M4xhdRp_2jmq5p9wEPUmA1y3XIG6vnicgSn-OqJigb8MvFsbI4wCjyW2jZ4vIAb0oZrIL2JUxyUvbrX1BbajI-jCT-Z3DpHM0wzYuvIdmAAL9sBTbL-_RYq5_PDlKpbMTx6HOi6W1lzCR2xYS_M0k1Jh2mCdkdg6JM-jvgEoCKChG13X5MwwqjwzoAx-_FhtPYOsofR2LEKhBd3xumBoaHB4r4OClwT_anu9N4RdDLMm6U-bl5Uxtev7_9zBt2pL5c-5I-Ta_xtRb-fbrXFMkUiKM4nnhG6n3nFnXLfgUxTe9y2xeUE_Bo6MBeOr7S_eIqXnpeFGdewd7r2iaktYhMwg0AiXz1MheXKYbBMoyvA" href="http://br.in-edit.org/?fbclid=IwAR0-MbXMkvzf7tPKlXtY5UuOAJpkuMNXGhL-cUtIrvVdYzN8Nn1W-94ojQw" rel="noopener nofollow" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank">http://br.in-edit.org/</a></div>
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Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-83810585976049526502020-06-28T03:05:00.000-07:002020-06-28T03:05:57.498-07:00Three Bullets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
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Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4533884659614372658.post-38598040695804975142020-06-25T01:57:00.000-07:002020-06-25T01:57:56.516-07:00SARAU POÉTICO-MUSICAL DADALOBELA em homanagem à Marcelo Dolabela (1957-2020)<div class="" data-block="true" data-editor="a3ojq" data-offset-key="7j7of-0-0" style="caret-color: rgb(29, 33, 41); color: #1d2129; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, BlinkMacSystemFont, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
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<span data-offset-key="7j7of-0-0" style="font-family: inherit;">This coming Friday, an homage to poet/musician Marcelo Dolabela (1957-2020), friend and collaborator on the Brazilian post-punk group Divergência Socialista in the 1980s. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">More than 30 poets/musicians will be performing, reading and talking about his legacy. Side A: (26/02) at 8 pm (Brazil) and midnight from the UK. Live from this link below. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=51R2PSCHVkk</span></div>
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Bruno Vernerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15632611045366780452noreply@blogger.com0