On the longest night of the year, the heat rises from the earth as we walk along the weir that breaks the river's journey. The rumour of the water emerges from the silence, a small yellow light shines on the bush and then another and another - the fireflies dance and illuminate our steps. Up ahead, crickets and cicadas sing wildly. Together, insects, water and night announce the summer.Text by Cristina Brito/ Sound by Jaime Silva/ Cover by Jaime Silva
Born swimming, she now lives in a human bathtub surrounded by strange voices. The pearls dangling from the strands braided with green algae and the shells hanging from her arms tinkle. Her nails peel away layers of skin, the tattoos and the history they contain are torn away, the fish tail falls off and the pungent smell of the deep sea spreads through the house. The mermaid walks, a woman rises.Text by Cristina Brito. Curation Cristina Brito & Catarina Garcia. Sound by Jaime Silva. Cover by Jaime Silva
Am I the Mermaid? She calls out to her(self) and receives a cry, a plea, a reflection in the return of the projected sound wave. The mermaid sees herself in the mirror and her reflected voice appears distorted, difficult to understand. All sounds and words outside our own reality are difficult to interpret, but we continue to insist, to call out to those who are far away. I call the Mermaid.Text by Cristina Brito & Isabel Gomes de Almeida. Sound by Jaime Silva. Cover by Jaime Silva
Esperar a SereiaQuantas ondas são precisasPara esquecer o que se passouQuantos mares atravessarPara largar o que se sonhouDiz-me lá velha do marO que diz o vento norteQuantos anos vão passarPara conhecer a minha sorteDevo contar grãos de areiaAcender velas num altarEsperar avistar uma sereiaE a minha angústia guardarMas a velha sentada na praiaDiz que o vento se calouSeja vontade de Deus ou do MarAquilo que sou, já mudou.Poem by Joana Baço. Curation Cristina Brito. Sound editing by Jaime Silva. Cover by Jaime Silva.
Breaking through the endless motion of human activity - the laughter, the walking, the talking, typing - every once in a while you can hear it. Waves crash into boats, becoming one with the sound of a child’s laugh, the conversations of work interrupted by the sudden screech of a seagull. In places where humans have long claimed supremacy, the sounds of nature are the ones who provide the rhythm and flow of life. An elegant, vibrant, sometimes violent dance, the harshness of a coffee machine and the constant flow of words being written, seeking to bring the tides into the room, the drive to let your mind drift to where the watery worlds become one with the human landscape, a desire to reconnect to what the relentless engine of civilization appears to drown out. But through it all, we can reach it, we can grasp it. They are so close, yet not a world of ours. A world we belong to, not one we own. Let’s dance with it. Let’s sing with it - E o meu canto vai-te encontrar, que o teu canto fica comigo e aqui espero para te encontrar. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Diogo Falcato & Cristina. Cover by Jaime Silva.
The owl hoots at the right time, every day, every evening, at that moment when light and night meet. It's like a fine-tuned clock, but of its own nature, in counter-current with the rest of the world. After the hooting, the silence of human footsteps rests by the tree. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Cristina Brito. Cover by Jaime Silva
After a slow walk, we need to pick up the pace. Waking up for the HS2, the high-speed train about to arrive! At the future station, few trees and flowers and wandering bees remain, waiting for the next day. Silent daily life has been broken by the noise of the machines tearing up the earth to lay the iron road. The humans, who feel like the trees, insects and flowers, struggle to maintain the sound of the forest and the silence of the tracks. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Catarina Garcia & Nina Vieira. Cover by Catarina Garcia
The tide brings the fish to the shore, men and boats follow the fish, seagulls are attracted. The net is the hungry open mouth of a non living entity engulfing life forms, smells and sounds. In the back, sea roars and critters scream, but a human-made motor overpowers all sounds. The tide is at its highest, full of life and death. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Cristina Brito. Cover by Catarina Garcia & Jaime Silva.
Water flowing down the river meets a group of rocks...Gulfs of wind push the water towards the muddy shore...Water splashes humans on land, who joyfully play with it, embracing its freshness, its rhythms, its vigor...As water follows its many paths and has multiple encounters, the sounds of a Blue Planet come to life. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Jaime Silva & Isabel Gomes de Almeida. Cover by Jaime Silva
Through the market grounds and the garden green walls, we walk hand on hand, step after step, crunching the earth and swelling memories. Other people, other animals, other trees, other paths, are just leafs floating around bringing the landscape well into our human existence. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Cristina Brito. Cover by Jaime Silva
Se eu estiver à tua esperaSe eu for ao mar para te encontrarBaleia tu, espera por mim Baleia eu, hei de cantar O teu encanto está no azulE o meu canto há de chegarAlém do mar, além do tempoBaleia tu, espero encontrar E se o caminho for para a costa, Dá meia volta e volta ao marO teu encanto fica comigo E o meu canto vai te encontrar Que o teu canto fica comigoE aqui espero para te encantar. Poem by Joana Baço. Curation Cristina Brito. Sound editing by Jaime Silva. Cover by Jaime Silva.
Inside the room, the sounds reverberate in the walls as much as in the mind. They echo from distant times to the near future, moving the air around us. Repetitive and circular, noisy and harsh, analogue and digital, they embrace us into a familiar web of clicks, pops and bangs Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Cristina Brito. Cover by Jaime Silva
By the sea, the wind transforms what we hear... human dialogues, and the waving of flags echoing as the wind passes over... Suddenly, the squawking of the seagulls becomes dominant, provoking an imbalance between the wind and the direction of the voices, on their own paths. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Patrícia Sanches Carvalho, Cristina Brito & Isabel Almeida. Cover by Jaime Silva.
Below ground level, we are taken into another world. Below water level, we enter the diving capsule. There is a conch through which you can hear the distant but constant sound of the sea. As you approach it, the air that passes through, enters and exits through the curved surfaces, the conch becoming a resonating box. The sea is close and seems even closer, just inside the shell. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Joana Baço & Cristina Brito. Cover by Jaime Silva
Water flowing through the old valley, after losing its millennial path to the human revolutions, slowly finds new paths. It builds the future, renewing and flourishing a green landscape, step by step. Birds chirp and sprouts bloom, breaking the loud noise of the metal machinery. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Cristina Brito, Isabel Gomes de Almeida & Jaime Silva. Cover by Catarina Garcia
Aren’t you late? Don’t you have a meeting today? Don’t forget about that appointment. Keep moving. Have you completed all the tasks required? Have you produced enough? Keep moving. Don’t stop, keep moving. Don’t smell, don’t look, don’t listen, keep moving. The constant and unrelenting motion of modern life allows for disconnection from the sensations of the green and blue world. It conditions us to suppress our kinship with the non-human world, isolating us, detaching us, making life a secondary thought in our daily routine. Creating the illusion of a world solely of humans. Yet, the birds still sing, soaring above. The rivers, the sea, the waters of the world flow, just as they did at the beginning of times, creating new paths. The monsters and mermaids of the past are still there, living. Poetry is made, songs are sung, stories and memories are preserved through time. The non-human world erupts out of the constant buzzing of modernity, resisting its dominance, becoming one singular experience of life. For now, don’t move. Stop moving. Don’t run to your next commitment. Stop moving. Smell, look, listen, stop moving. Be the static element in a world of (e)motions. Let the sensations of the water embrace you, let the sounds of forever be present within.
As the heron flies over the bay, the fishes take refuge behind the rocks. The elusive manatee shows interest on the secrets the heron has to share...on the timeless whispers from the bay the heron guards. Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Isabel Gomes de Almeida. Cover by Catarina Garcia
From down deep, in the throat of time, shells move as the ghosts of the past, as the echoes of their footsteps... From the deep ocean, the waves spit their shells onto our beaches as the abandoned protections of those long gone... In the depths of our busy days, we try to listen to the deep... within the hectic buzz of today, their voices become clear, as we stop, listen and slowly come together in a shared breath... Sound by Jaime Silva. Text by Cristina Brito & Isabel Almeida. Cover by Jaime Silva
The spoken words in Portuguese from Brazil, sounding different but feeling the same, offer us the joy of existing in a plural and multi-layered world. A human voice giving voice to the non-human manatee or, as it is called locally, peixe-boi or manati or goaragoá. Manatee / I want to swim with you / In our environment / In the territory of the Potiguara / Don't ever run away / From this mangrove Manatee / I want to coexist with you / ... Oh Goaragoá manati Poem by José Romildo Araújo da Silva Potiguara. Text & Curation by Cristina Brito. Cover by Catarina Garcia.
The manatee is seen by many eyes, and sang my many voices. Here we listen to Tupi original language (from Brazil) in the dancing sounds of an indigenous poet, and read the Portuguese words. The tongues of the natural world are more than words, they are a construction understood by us all. Peixe boi Manati / Quero nadar com você / Em nosso ambiente / No território dos Potiguara / Não fuja jamais / Desse manguezal Manati / Quero coexistir com você / ... / Goaragoá manati. Poem by José Romildo Araújo da Silva Potiguara Text & Curation by Cristina Brito. Cover by Rui Henriques.