Arquivos de dezembro de 2011
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Louco, sim, louco
15/12/2011 17:51 | Autor: Flora Thomson-DeVeaux
All right, so my letter was a failure. I can’t say I was really expecting anything different; by the time the announcement that João Gilberto had canceled the tour finally came, I could only laugh. I’d been expecting it for so long that, at this stage of the game, having to go to São Paulo and back on Sunday would have been both highly unexpected and inconvenient. — Leia o post completo.
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Porque é Schumann, meu filho
13/12/2011 18:11 | Autor: Flora Thomson-DeVeaux
“Ah, I thought I was paranoid, getting here at 2:30,” I said to the woman in front of me as I got in line on the theatre steps.
“So did I,” she said, contemplating the couple dozen people ahead of her. A small crowd of paranoiacs was already forming. Fans of the virtuosic pianist Nelson Freire, that is, lined up an hour and a half before the doors were set to open in order to get a seat for his free Sunday recital. 90 minutes of tedium ensue as the full complement of paranoiacs arrive and is subsequently supplemented by a few hundred latecomers, snaking around the block and down Rio Branco. — Leia o post completo.
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A plea
08/12/2011 12:59 | Autor: Flora Thomson-DeVeaux
Dear João Gilberto,
As opposed to Caetano Veloso, I’m sure that you’re sure that you’ve never met me. From what I understand, you don’t get out a whole lot. Or at all. But hear me out. Your music got me through one of the most difficult years of my life, including the sudden death of a friend. Even now I have trouble listening to Amoroso Brasil without crying, which is saying something. When I got to Rio, I was shocked to find that some of my new friends had never heard your 1961 or 1973 albums, let alone Amoroso Brasil. Whenever we listened to them, all conversation halted. It was sacred. — Leia o post completo.
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Stuck in traffic
06/12/2011 16:16 | Autor: Flora Thomson-DeVeaux
Less than a month left. No time to waste. Stuck na hora do rush: Centro, 18:30. Bus crawling down Rio Branco so slowly you begin to suspect that the driver has just let his foot off the brake and is letting gravity pull us all the way to the sea, it’s the jeito carioca and saves gas to boot. Air conditioning blasting with a vengeful uselessness now that the rain’s cooled everything down. — Leia o post completo.
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A thirty-year-old kiss
01/12/2011 19:34 | Autor: Flora Thomson-DeVeaux
d been thinking about it ever since they told me it was there, hidden away in some white box in the innards of the archive. Now my research is done, today was my last day at PUC, it feels like I can count my days here on a blind butcher’s fingers, and so I finally mustered up the courage to ask them to let me see it. The manuscript of A Hora da Estrela. This time they got out the white cloth gloves. I waited nervously in the research room, drumming my fingers on the table and making whispered small talk with a fellow researcher. Forms were signed, the white box was opened, envelopes were shuffled around. And there it was. — Leia o post completo.
