Tasca project
Social / Anti Social
I see them and they see me, even when I’m inside I hear them (loud), as
they hear me (louder). Every day, they ask me if it’s about ice cream, to which
I reply, No, it’s about red wine. They must think I’m joking, of course, and
that it would be absurd to have a Haram drink over there, especially in their pretty
neighborhood. I suppose I could also ask somebody to explain the hole reason of
this to them, but would it make a difference? This is clearly not one of those
typical artist residencies where you feel apart almost disengaged from local
contact, pursuing only what you had in mind.
There is a light blue door that lets you access to the inner parts of
the vehicle, designed to keep the bottles and the glasses, and they enjoy
opening this door and sneaking through it while playing. Once in the inside, it
becomes a refuge, because in there exists a fundamental feeling as if you are
not seen from the outside and so you can talk, and even move the Tasca from the
inside, allowing them to cheer up. So, when
I’m not looking they hide there in pairs, doing what they do best: dreaming.
We seem to share some common ground, since kanaleneiland is going “bye
bye” also, for the government has plans to demolish it. In the beginning, the
idea was to talk with the locals about the disappearance of this places, it’s
aesthethic, and its grand social power. Yet, due to a sort of expansion mode, the
Tasca became also part of the porch, and so part of the playground. This
merging was non-intended but very fruitful in the sense that this social
sculpture had integrated the lives of these younglings.
They want to tear it apart. Actually
they almost managed too, but I stopped them before they could burn it down. I can’t
blame them though, for it is, after all, an amplified toy, made with the
purpose of potentiating facts, stories, happenings if you will. And they know
this very well. They may not verbalize it, but they do know it and they play it:
When the noise becomes too intense, the man comes outside to safeguard the
area, and make sure that the vehicule is still in the right place. They love my
reaction. Throwing objects and shouting at me, they seem to live for that.
The air holds a full fascination on how, and for what it was built, also
what tools were used. Although they saw the building of it, they are also desperate
to grab the hammer and start banging with it on some nails. Not to be annoying
but to show that they are present, and that they want to interact with me. Certainly
it became a game of big interest for them, since I always seem to reply in a
different manner of what they are used to. The day before, I had drew an iphone
and black berry on two pieces of wood and they were smiling.
They hate camera’s, and photos. I wonder why.
Me and the fellows from OTIA TVTA are planning to sing Fado’s on Friday.
This is an enchanted romantic way of showing the culture of our country and
creating the right ambience to find a bride to get married on the next day. So
we rehearse and they listened outside. One of them enters and climbs the
staircase, to which Eduardo Petersen shouted, while in the middle of his song,
“Povo Adormecido“ (Sleeping People), CAN I HELP YOU!?
The little one runs away laughing, waiting downstairs, ready to climb
again.
The next day we took the Tasca for a walk along the streets, where we sang
in a low key, stopping some times for a drink, and to invite other persons who
might want to join us. The sun sets on our pass as we stroll along the Kanal
and I remember Baudelaire’s term “flâneur”, when he addresses us as walking,
sensing, vibrating people, in search for the hidden parts of the city. Besides
this, Two men stopped to know more and I served them while the explanation was
dealt. The red wine was Portuguese, Quinta de Pancas, 2008, and it had a taste to something like deep mint, and somewhat fruity as well. Strong but not too strong, ideal for two, max. 3 glasses, if you want to keep your spirit in a proper level.
Before we entered Resto van Hart, for our singing night, I drink another
glass, to feel in the mood. This Restaurant is runned by Jolanda
Panis with whom I had the great opportunity of collaborating with, for her great enthusiasm and dedication to the Portuguese kitchen and ambiance. Resto van Hart's idea strives to serve the people of the neighbourhood, respecting their religious beliefs (they usually only serve halal food) at a cheap price, for an integration of the people of the neighbourhood. Everyone is welcomed to eat and meet new people, while sitting randomly at the tables.
Outside, Paulo Lisboa and Francisco Cordovil look ready for action,
while inside Agostinho Gonçalves and Eduardo Petersen set their voice on a
comfortable way.
Jolanda Panis has cooked Portuguese, Caldo Verde as starter, Caldeirada,
for main dish, and tarte de natas as dessert. In between courses we sang our 3 set's of Fados.
De volgorde:
Caldo Verde
A lenda da fonte (André Catalão)
Com que voz (Eduardo Petersen)
O meu menino é d'oiro (Paulo Lisboa)
Caldeirada
Adeus ó serra da lapa (Agostinho Gonçalves)
Povo Adormecido (Eduardo Petersen)
Não vás ao mar Tónho (Francisco Cordovil)
Tarte de Natas
Não venhas tarde (all)
Nem às paredes confesso (all)
