Canção da Terra

The Canção da Terra is perhaps the show by the Companhia de Música Teatral that I most enjoy performing on stage. Artistically, I feel it is like a well-oiled clock: every gesture has weight, nothing is superfluous, everything happens in a succession of complex, entertaining and, more than once, deeply emotional moments.

In this show, I have the privilege of appearing semi-naked as a DJ, playing flutes and recorders, dog toys, an enlarged and amplified saxophone, organ pipes, wooden boxes and... and... It is also, perhaps, the show where I most felt my body find its natural place on stage, in harmony with that of my colleagues, whose artistic presence inspires me whenever we share the same space.

It is a history of Earth that never presents itself as such. An account of the planet seen through the eyes of beings who inhabit the post-Anthropocene and try to decipher what brought them to this future. A sequence of scenes that traverses the best and worst of humanity, from the sublime to the obscene. The Big Bang is a disco; human evolution and greed wear burlap coats and top hats; the modern world appears as a bazaar where everything is for sale. The end of nature is a countdown with demonic sirens. The Earth is, successively, a balloon, a suitcase, a terrarium, and finally... nothing.

The show is a musical-poetic journey that lives on the border between theatre, slam poetry and Bach, an elegy to the planet that no longer exists but may be resurrected after Humanity.