Recite: Fernando Pessoa: Tabacaria
Proponent: Carlos Roberto Escouto
Project timeline: 04/04/2022 - 05/05/2022
Story: Fernando Pessoa, poet, playwright, philosopher, writer, among other functions was perhaps the most important Portuguese literary artist of the 19th century. His work spans the ages and to this day is widely discussed in academia and consumed and referenced by the literary community. Fernando Pessoa also wrote through heteronyms. Authors that he himself created and signed as the authors of the works to differentiate his poetic style, they are: Álvaro de Campos, Ricardo Reis and Alberto Caeiro. The poem ‘‘Tabacaria’’ is one of the longest and most widespread poems in his extensive literature.
Title: Fernando Pessoa: Tabacaria
Objective: The proponent has created a channel of interpretations of poems and poetry by renowned authors of world literature. The first author was Fernando Pessoa and his heteronyms where four poems were interpreted; Lisbon Revisited, Poema em Linha Reta, Autopsicogafia and Todas as cartas de amor. Continuing this proposal, the second season of this project intends to interpret the poem ‘‘Tabacaria’’ by Fernando Pessoa. Due to the extension of the poem, its complexity, and the work that will generate its textual memorization and the creation of corporal scores, during one month only this poem will be worked on. The chronological line of work will be as follows: 04/05/2022 to 04/15/2022: textual memorization. 04/10/2022 to 04/26/2022: creation of body scores and rehearsals. 27/04/2022: recording of the poem. Note: The intention is, on the day of the recording, to make an artistic presentation of the poem at the Regina Simonis Arts House. 04/28, 04/29: video editing. 04/30: release of the video on instagram, youtube and facebook platforms.
I am nothing.
I will never be nothing.
I cannot want to be nothing.
Apart from that, I have all the dreams in the world in me.
Windows from my room,
From my room of one of the millions in the world that nobody knows who he is
(And if they knew who it was, what would they know?),
Dais to the mystery of a street constantly crossed by people,
To a street inaccessible to all thoughts,
Real, impossibly real, certain, unknowingly certain,
With the mystery of things beneath the stones and beings,
With death putting dampness on walls and white hair on men,
With Fate driving the cart of everything down the road of nothing.
I am overcome today, as if I knew the truth.
I am today lucid, as if I am about to die,
And have no more fellowship with things
But a farewell, becoming this house and this side of the street
The row of carriages of a train, and a whistled departure
From inside my head,
And a jolt of my nerves and a creaking of bones on the way.
I am perplexed today, as one who thought and thought and thought and forgot.
I am today torn between the loyalty I owe
To the tobacco shop across the street, as a real thing on the outside,
and to the feeling that everything is a dream, as a real thing inside.
I failed in everything.
Since I made no purpose, maybe everything was nothing.
The learning I was given,
I climbed down from it through the back window of the house.
I went to the field with great purpose.
But there I found only grass and trees,
And when there were people, they were just the same.
I leave the window, sit down on a chair. What am I to think of?
What do I know of what I will be, I who don’t know what I am?
To be what I think? But I think so many things!
And there are so many who think the same thing that there can’t be so many!
Genius? At this moment
A hundred thousand brains are conceived in a dream of geniuses like me,
And history will mark, who knows, not one,
Nor will there be but dung from so many future conquests.
No, I don’t believe in myself.
In all the insane asylums there are crazy people with so many certainties!
I, who am not at all sure, am I more sure or less sure?
No, not even in myself.
In how many of the world’s mansards and non-mansards
Are not at this hour geniuses-for-selves dreaming?
How many high and noble and lucid aspirations -
Yes, truly high and noble and lucid -,
And who knows if they can be realized,
You will never see the real sunlight or find people’s ears?
The world is for those who are born to conquer it
And not for those who dream they can conquer it, even if they are right.
I have dreamed more than Napoleon did.
I have clutched to my hypothetical chest more humanities than Christ,
I have made philosophies in secret that no Kant wrote.
But I am, and perhaps always will be, the one in the mansard,
Even though I don’t live in it;
I will always be the one not born for it;
I’ll always be the one who had qualities;
I’ll always be the one who waited for the door to be opened at the foot of a wall without a door,
And sang the song of Infinity in a capoeira,
And heard the voice of God in a covered well.
Believe in me? No, not in anything.
Nature pours on my burning head
Its sun, its rain, the wind that finds my hair,
And let the rest come if it comes, or must come, or not come.
Heart slaves to the stars,
We conquered the whole world before we got out of bed;
But we wake and it is opaque,
We get up and he’s oblivious,
We leave home and he’s the whole earth
Plus the solar system and the Milky Way and the Indefinite.
(Eat chocolates, little one;
Look that there is no metaphysics in the world but chocolates.
Look that all religions teach no more than confectionery.
Eat, dirty little one, eat!
If only I could eat chocolates with the same truth with which you eat!
But I think, and as I take off the silver paper, which is made of tin foil,
I throw it all down, as I have thrown life down).
But at least it remains of the bitterness of what I will never be
The quick handwriting of these verses,
Broken portico to the Impossible.
But at least I consecrate to myself a tearless contempt,
Noble at least in the wide gesture with which I throw
The dirty laundry that I am, in roll, to the course of things,
And stay at home shirtless.
(You, who console, who do not exist and therefore console,
Or Greek goddess, conceived as a living statue,
Or Roman patrician, impossibly noble and nefarious,
Or a minstrel princess, gentle and colorful,
Or eighteenth-century marquise, demure and distant,
Or a celebrated cocotte of our fathers’ time,
Or I don’t know what modern - I can’t quite conceive what -
All that, whatever you are, if it can inspire that inspires!
My heart is a dumped bucket.
As those who invoke spirits invoke spirits I invoke
Myself and I find nothing.
I reach the window and see the street with absolute clarity.
I see the stores, I see the sidewalks, I see the passing cars,
I see the living beings in clothes crossing each other,
I see the dogs that also exist,
And all of this weighs on me like a sentence of banishment,
And all this is foreign, like everything else).
I have lived, studied, loved and even created,
And today there’s no beggar I don’t envy just for not being me.
I look at each one’s rags and sores and lies,
And I think: maybe you never lived or studied or loved or believed
(Because it is possible to do the reality of all this without doing any of it);
Maybe you just existed, like a lizard whose tail is cut off
And that it’s tail beyond the lizard stirred up
I made of myself what I didn’t know
And what I could do of myself I didn’t do.
The domino I wore was wrong.
They knew me for who I was not, and I didn’t deny it, and I lost myself.
When I wanted to take off the mask,
It was stuck to my face.
When I took it off and looked in the mirror,
I’d already aged.
I was drunk, I couldn’t put on the domino I hadn’t taken off.
I threw off the mask and slept in the locker room
Like a dog tolerated by management
Because it was harmless
And I will write this story to prove that I am sublime.
Musical essence of my useless verses,
I wish I could find myself as something I do
And not always stay in front of the frontier tobacconist’s shop,
Pressing to my feet the consciousness of existing,
Like a rug that a drunk stumbles on
Or a doormat that the gypsies stole and was worthless.
But the Tobacco Store Owner came to the door and stood at the door.
I look at him with the discomfort of a wrongly turned head
And with the discomfort of the misunderstanding soul.
He will die and I will die.
He will leave the tablet, I will leave the verses.
At some point the sign will die too, the verses too.
After a certain time the street where the tablet was will die,
And the language in which the verses were written.
Then the spinning planet where all this happened will die.
In other satellites of other systems something like people
Will continue making things like verses and living under things like tablets,
Always one thing in front of another,
Always one thing as useless as another,
Always the impossible as stupid as the real,
Always the mystery of the deep as certain as the mystery sleep of the surface,
Always this or always something else or neither.
But a man walked into the tobacco shop (to buy tobacco?)
And plausible reality suddenly falls upon me.
I feel energetic, convinced, human,
And I intend to write these verses in which I say otherwise.
I light a cigarette at the thought of writing them
And in the cigarette I savor the release of all thoughts.
I follow the smoke as my own route,
And I enjoy, in a sensitive and competent moment
The liberation from all speculations
And the awareness that metaphysics is a consequence of being in a bad mood.
Then I lie back in my chair
And continue smoking.
As long as Fate grants it to me, I will keep smoking.
(If I married my laundress’s daughter
I might be happy).
Seeing this, I get up from the chair. I go to the window.
The man came out of the tobacco shop (putting change in the pocket of his pants?).
Ah, I know him; he’s Esteves without metaphysics.
(The owner of the tobacconist came to the door).
As if by some divine instinct Esteves turned and saw me.
He waved good-bye, I shouted Good-bye, Esteves, and the universe
I was rebuilt without ideal or hope, and the owner of the tobacconist smiled.
*TIME LINE (MORE SPECIFIED) BELOW
The project will take place from 04/04 to 31/04. The production will have some stages until the publication of the videos, they are: 1 - memorization of the texts. 2 - rehearsal of the texts. 3 - recording. 4 - video editing. 5 - publicizing. 6 - publishing the videos. The stage of disclosure will occur at all times until before the release of the videos showing the backstage of the construction of the videos and rehearsals of the actor. The steps of memorization and rehearsals will take place between April 4th and April 15th. In this stage, at the same time as the memorization, meetings will be held with the director Gilmar Almeida to discuss the text and its intentionalities. At the same time that parts of the poem will be memorized, possible body scores will be rehearsed. The memorization is expected to end on April 15th, and from then on rehearsals will begin only of the corporal score. The recording is scheduled to take place on April 27th. The videos will be edited on April 28 and 29, and published on April 30.
This project is the continuation of the project ‘‘Recitar: Fernando Pessoa and heteronyms’’ which has the objective of being continued, that is, every month will be proposed the work of theatrical interpretation reciting poetry of specific authors of world and Brazilian literature. In this project, “Fernando Pessoa: Tobacaria” intends to create an additional addition to the release of the video: a theatrical presentation of the poem will be made on the day of the recording at the Regina Simonis Art House. The project also aims to bring the general public closer to literature through the interpretation of poetry. Through interpretation, we create a specific non-conventional language to work with literature and generate literary access to the general public. It is also important to highlight that the interpretations will be available for free on the youtube channel Gambiarra Near, making this channel also a future reference for the consumption of literary arts on youtube. In addition to youtube, the dissemination and sharing of these works will be given by platforms; facebook, instagram and twitter Gambiarra, the proponent and partners of DAO Gambiarra.
This project is the continuation of the project ‘‘Recitar: Fernando Pessoa and heteronyms’’ that has the objective of being continued, that is, every month will be proposed the work of theatrical interpretation reciting poetry of specific authors of world and Brazilian literature. In this project, “Fernando Pessoa: Tabacaria” intends to create an additional addition to the release of the video: a theatrical presentation of the poem will be made on the day of the recording at the Regina Simonis Art House. The project also aims to bring the general public closer to literature through the interpretation of poetry. Through interpretation, we create a specific non-conventional language to work with literature and generate literary access to the general public. It is also important to highlight that the interpretations will be available for free on the youtube channel Gambiarra Near, making this channel also a future reference for the consumption of literary arts on youtube. In addition to youtube, the dissemination and sharing of these works will be given by platforms; facebook, instagram and twitter Gambiarra, the proponent and partners of DAO Gambiarra.
The dissemination will be all online through the sites; discord.com /gambiarra, member group telegram channel ‘‘Gambiarra’’, facebook, instagram and twitter of invited members of DAO Gambiarra and the proponent. Not only the artistic videos will be disclosed, but the entire disclosure of the rehearsal process, construction and completion of the videos.
budget: USD 500 in NEAR (maximum amount)
246 USD will be for actor pre-production work that involves memorization work and text study.
32 USD for renting one of the spaces to be interpreted. 32 USD which is equivalent to 150 reals.
106 USD will be for the scenic direction work done by Gilmar Almeida.
116 USD will be for the audiovisual production work done by @supernovafilmes
payment portfolio: escouto.near
Of this amount, part will be for payment for audiovisual production, stage direction and space rental.
payment USD 500 NEAR
subscription: Carlos Roberto Escouto
president municipal council of culture