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Untitled #01 | 01 / 15 |
Malabar
Traffic light artists or free thinkers. Or perhaps both. By chance, I met and photographed the community of street performers who use the "captive" audience of motorists inside their cars to show and perfect their artistry. I realized that not only do they have to be good with their chosen instruments in order to impress the drivers, but they also have to both keep count and figure out which lane will yield the most, since there is no time to cover more than one lane after each performance. I've seen how people acknowledge their toil and thank them for interrupting their doldrums for a few seconds, handing over money, food, clothes and other (unmentionable) things.
I listened to stories of intercontinental journeys subsidized by the daily practice on street intersections. I witnessed an injured performer being helped by another who took over his place, and in the end of the day split what had been earned. I understood the differences between those who can only imagine themselves free to decide their future and those who dream of belonging to Cirque du Soleil, and end up lost in their personal labyrinth. I attended the first meeting for the creation of an association of street artists in a tent at Senhor Roubado. I brought pastéis de nata (custard pastries) to someone who was sleeping in a van behind Areeiro, and then stripped and grabbed his girlfriend before she went off to make her début that day at a stop light on Avenida dos EUA. I photographed what marvelled me about these artists: their alternative way of life, their resilience and their bag of tricks.