Life is Life

Oh, Life is life and it entails pleasure and pain no matter where or what! I remember, years ago, inside of a bus in Rio de Janeiro, in my 20's, a hot summer day, I was simply melting inside of the bus, eyes half closed, trying to preserve energy by moving as little as possible as if any little tremor of a finger could stir the fires of the Summer Burning Hell around us... my forehead was leaning against the window, we were passing by "The aterro do Flamengo" and between the street and the busy traffic and the sea there was a big park, mainly grass with a tiny little elevation mocking of a hill. Before I even continue I have to say that this was a period in my life where I thought I would never meet someone to love nor be loved by someone. I was Young, handsome, romantic (and would like to think that I still am with the exception of the young part) and there was no reason to feel the way I did but I did nonetheless... through the window of the bus, on the top of this elevation in the grass there were 2 beggars... a man and a woman... the breeze was blowing outside, they were facing each other, she was laughing, he was looking at her with awe and joy, they embraced, her hair flew all around her face and they kissed... My heart skipped a beat, I am sure of it... It was simply beautiful, the freedom they seemed to have, the lack of self-criticism, the abandonment of being on top of a little hill, in the middle of heavy traffic around, throwing their heads back, allowing the wind to blow it away... I know, I know, I know, don't anybody give me a lesson on how privileged I am/was, having a house, money, all and all that represents success in the world we live in... the truth is that at that very moment, for a minute or so, inside of that bus, i envied them!

So, in a "blog-prayer" moment I ask to whatever is deep enough in me not to allow me to forget or even lose "that loving feeling..."

Having said it all I want to post beautiful images of a beautiful Autumn day in Copenhagen and the little island of Ven, in Sweden...

Leaving Copenhagen to go on this short trip to Ven in Sweden, this is Nyhavn...

One of my favorite towers in Christianshavn...

As I once wrote in an article to a Brazilian Magazine about Copenhagen: Look up!!! But don't miss what is going down either cause there are inspiring things to look up to while walking around

An abandoned swimming facility in Ven, Sweden...

Are these Raspberries??? I don't know. Framboesa is the name in Portuguese. So delicious...

This is Christian on a bike, right in front of me. Ven, sweden. Such a beautiful place, only 1:30 min by boat from Copenhagen

Arriving back to Copenhagen...

And then we came back home...

Marcello and the Sun, Part I

Ok.. being born in the Northeast of Brazil in the 70's meant that the only protection "against" the Sun was no protection at all cause there was no awareness of the damaging effects of the Sun. The only annoying thing that could happen during Summer Holidays by the beach would be serious Sunburns that beyond the acute pain and sleepless nights only meant that for 1 or maximum 2 days we would not be allowed to be outside and do you have any idea of what a torture it was not to be allowed to go outside, jump in the waters, build sun castles, catch an "alligator" (Brazilian expression for body surfing) and etc etc etc??? So, still purple (red would have been a couple of days before), still feeling that the skin would bleed at any point, after 2 days we would be allowed to be out in the sun again... Yes, no protection at all but the recipes for achieving the perfect tan abounded: Some Olive oil mixed with Coca Cola, urucum seeds and some drops of lime would be a ticket to achieve a Michael Jackson coloring process in reverse! And the fun, oh the fun of peeling off the skin when the water bubbles burst (usually 5 days after the Holidays), It was a meticulous process that was taken seriously for the ultimate goal was to peel the largest area without breaking the shed skin... carefully, carefully, as if treating a patient with severe burn, I would pull, gently pull skin from the shoulders, nose, arms and legs revealing the new, pinkish brand new skin underneath the old, dry and brown one. This lasted my whole life until I became 15... than it was all about The Cure, Siouxie and the Banshees... the Smiths... it was more than music, it was a life style where everybody was pale and Nostalgic and I wanted to be like them. Nowadays it is all known as Gothic but in the 80's, at least in Brazil, this movement was known as "Dark"... it took me a little while to lose the healthy sun "tongue kissed" look but eventually I got there and believe me it really took a while. Now I understand how easy it was for the British singers to stay pale (since it doesn't take any effort to scape from the Sun in England) but in the Northeast of Brazil? You did not need any heavy make up, gigantic crosses around your neck nor long capes. To catch every body's attention you just had to NOT TO BE burnt by the sun. To be honest I was not consciously trying to become anything, I just had a sudden identification with the depressed, nostalgic and pale life style and it was there, outside of the ONLY trendy bar in town, seated on a cement wall (feeling nostalgic, depressed and pale) that my new identity was splashed all over my face when I heard a comment coming from a group of young and golden colored surfers passing by: look, look, a "dark"...

OK, now I can totally confess, now I am old enough not to fear loosing the cool I had to show, there and then, while my heart was almost exploding out of contentment: A Dark! Finally I had an Identity!!! A Dark!!! I belonged to a group and it was a group that instilled respect and admiration by people around, after all you had to respect somebody, anybody, that managed to avoid the sun for long enough to become relatively pale (to Northeasters standards in Brazil)... I totally became a dark after this incident, it was my initiation into a group that had an identity that I so longed for, for so many years, growing up. It also protected my REAL identity that I feared would bring so many problems being myself in the society I lived in. I was not Marcello anymore, I was "a dark" and it was such a relief to belong to a group that would carry me around wherever I went... there were places like: "Crepúsculo de Cubatão" in Rio, "Madame Satã" in São Paulo, "Misty" in Recife, wherever I went, from now on, I would have a "family" other darks that, probably, just like myself were craving for some protection, for a group identity, that would keep people from looking within us and seeing who we really were...

I was very happy being Dark (contradictory to the movement's highest principles) until the day I went to see my personal Oracle, Dona Carminha, who had been "guiding" my whole life through her Gypsy card readings and she told me the words that I would not forget in many years to come: You should not wear black anymore! That's what she said. And I took everything she said very seriously since the day she was spot on telling me I was going to get the job I wanted and I did! I beg your pardon? I asked her, hoping she had said something like: You should not wear bags anymore... but no, I had heard it right: NO BLACK clothes for me anymore since it was attracting a lot of negative vibes to my life. For the first time in years I doubted her capacity as a divine instrument for telling me about my Future! I went home and suffered in silence cause although I loved being "Dark" I was not ready to sacrifice my happiness to the movement itself... well well well... I thought, before putting my black pajamas away and bringing back my fluorescent green T-shirt out of the drawers cause after all it was the 80's, and if "The boy with the thorn in his side" was no longer to be the soundtrack of my life there was still the B52's, the GoGos, and a lot of other bubbly, colorful and happy bands to whom I could listen while basking back in the sun, nurturing the skin cancer that would come knocking at my door, some good 20 years later... but this will be part II on the "Marcello and the Sun" trilogy or whatever many "ilogies" will take to get it out of me!

Workshop for actors in Copenhagen...

About my Workshop for actors here in Copenhagen...

Once, Regina Miranda (now a renowned Choreographer and Director of the Laban Institute in New York, then a dancer who had just had her foot reconstructed after a motorbike accident) asked Ivo Pitanguy why he was the best plastic surgeon in the world. "It is because I have lost count of the number of surgeries I have Performed throughout the years. Nowadays I can close my eyes and know the depth of the cut, I can visualize every step of the procedure and could almost operate with my eyes closed". That was his answer.

Years later, working with one of the most respected, feared and admired Theater Directors in Brazil, Antunes Filho, he also pointed out the fact that a painter has to paint and paint and paint and throw it all away and paint some more on top of old paints until there is something worth showing... in the same way a musician spends hours in solitude perfecting his instrument, tuning, honing, tearing strings and puncturing skin to master his skills. And what about actors? Why do people (some people) take for granted that "it will be there" when needed. The Talent, The Inspiration... George Furth a great friend and Writer (won a Tony award for his play "Company") told me: You've got to have talent to be talented (something that Einstein also said with slightly different words: Genius is 10% Inspiration and 90% action) Antunes Filho really made us all understand that acting is a refined form of art that needs the same attention, same dedication as any other means of expression. The body, the mind, the presence, the voice... it should all be constantly trimmed, adjusted, developed!

That is what the great Theater Thinkers, Philosophers, creators did. Too bad they all died and the whole research and project of their lives became stagnant with followers "perpetuating" their unfinished, ongoing trajectory! It is impossible not to think that "Stanislavski system" would not have suffered severe changes had Stanislavski himself lived to be 200 years old. And the same goes for Grotowski, Brecht and you name it!!! We are lucky to still have living masters that are urging us to revisit the classics with a more critical mind... These are people that took seriously the previous efforts of the "Great ones" but did not get satisfied with the "Development" (or the lack of it) of such "laws".

Peter Brook, Tadashi Susuki, Antunes Filho, Gerald Thomas, Kike Diaz, Pina Bausch (I still count her as a living force since she only died very recently and never stopped provoking and challenging the minds and hearts of the audience), Kazuo Ohno, these are artists that offer us an unique chance of rethinking the meaning of being actors nowadays. I do consider a privilege to have gotten to know some of them personally, to have worked with some of them. They are inspiring forces that motivate me to keep on creating spaces where, just as musicians do, just as writers and sculptures do, we too, actors can spend time in action: doubting, discovering, exploring and celebrating our art!

I am creating a space (just like I had in Brazil) where we will spend time together, analyzing, practicing and experimenting some contemporary styles and let's see where it will lead us. I will start a group now in the middle of September. To begin with it will happen twice a week, in the evenings. I am thrilled and really looking forward to starting this dialogue! Join in, jump on board, let's do it!

nothing at all

SOMETIMES, MORE THAN A GOOD THERAPIST ALL YOU NEED IS A GOOD OLD DRAG QUEEN SCREAMING IN YOUR EARS THAT "YOU CAN DO IT CAUSE YOU ARE STRONG ENOUGH". SIMPLY REMINDING YOU THAT, EVEN THOUGH AT FIRST YOU WERE AFRAID AND PETRIFIED, AT THE END YOU WILL SURVIVE CAUSE... let me heeeaaaaaar yoooouuuuu!!!!!

I whisper things in your ears... sweet nothings... Brenda Lee used to sing! Something like that... Memories, like the lalalalala... sang a cat in Cats and Barbra Streisand in 189 different records... I am just a broken juke box sometimes, a little refrain here, a little line there, Judy garland on a Duet with myself and Liza with a Z, not Lisa with an S spying on us... singers, bands, D.I.S.C.O. (She is D... divine, she is I... incredible, she is S... special, she is C... cute... OOOOOOOOO, He is D... delirious, he is I... impatient, he is S...suspicious, he is C... cellullitical, OOOOOOOOO...) and just like that, when i do not know the lyrics I simply fill in with something else. Just as I deliberately change very depressive and moody lyrics just because I believe that we shape our own destiny through words we keep on repeating (be it a favorite song, or a quote or a memory of harsh words that were once spread all over our face). Yes, If a song says: I feel miserable, life is grey and clouds abound blablabla... of course I am not going to sing it like this, sorry, hmmm-hmmm... I am not crazy, thank you very much. I might even like the song but nooooo, not I, I will survive, for as long as I know how to love I know I will stay alive, and so on and so forth... and this is all cause this posting is being written during a very very hot summer night in Copenhagen... which makes me so delighted to say: A very hot summer night in Copenhagen. Do you know how many times you will actually hear (or read) these 2 words put together: HOT and Copenhagen??? I am telling you not really often! But coming back to my broken juke box and my almost obsessive awareness of not singing depressive songs: Thing is: The brain sometimes can be smart as a Genius but it can also be dumb as a lolly pop. Yes, this is my very revolucionary theory... based on the knowledge that if we keep on repeating out loud: Life is Hell shubbydubbydooo, I will always be alone, duubby duubbydaw... the brain kind of registers this precious info, records it somewhere in it's hard disk and... good luck! YES, SAY YES! LIFE KEEPS HAPPENING EVERYDAY, SAY YES! WHEN OPPORTUNITY COMES YOUR WAY YOU CAN'T STOP AND WONDER WHAT TO SAY YOU WILL NEVER WIN IF YOU NEVER SAY: YES! This is the stuff I kind of surround myself with (although I must confess I indulge in a little Smiths here and there... an Anthony once in a while and maybe even half a song from Leonard Cohen - but friends be aware of Mr Cohen. It should even be prohibited by the Psychiatric convention in Geneva for causing sudden suicidal urges and instant depression if you listen to a whole CD on a rainy day in Denmark...) I am not talking about painting the world Pink and Blue and only eating peaches and cream but whenever I face potential disaster (in my relationship, job, etc...) I'd much rather listen to something that will command me to Lift my chin up, search for the light at the end of a tunnel, tap dance on top of somebody's favorite records and move on!!!! And OM NAMAH SHIVAYA cause at the end, the only thing that matters is that: God dwells within you, as you!

So many places...

A lighthouse buried under the sand... one of the most poetical images I've seen in a very long time. Stunning!

I know there is so much to be seen in this world and despite me wanting very much to visit places like Japan and etc I tend not to be anxious about it all and that's why i feel so happy when I happen to be in places I never thought they existed and feel totally taken by the beauty and strangeness of it. That was the case coming back from Læsø, the Island I came to Love and where we spend our summers in Denmark. Me and Christian decided to drive down the coast and every little city we bumped into hid secrets (to me) that are hardly seen (I have never seen) in tourist leaflets along with the Little Mermaid and Tivoli... a Sand Buried lighthouse on the top of a cliff? A cemetery that is falling, little by little, off a huge cliff into the sea? Wow!!! There were also other surprises... Skagen, for example, known for it's light, the place where an artistic, historical shift from "post card-bucolic-cartoon like" painting to harsh, realistic and down to earth styles portraying the life of fishermen and other local practices took place. And to be hosted by, no one else but Lise Svanholm that knows every little story behind each and every painting from the likes of Krøyer, Anna and Michael Ancher and Christian Krogh, was a royal treat, to say the least. A kiss on you, Lise for unforgettable days of fun, culture and food!!! And for those of you who have not been to this part of the Globe, the Museum in Skagen is a must see!!!

Well, here are some images of this trip...

The King, Christian the IX, was misunderstood when he built such simple Summer house. Too small for a King, that's what the local society whispered... Nowadays, this house is a retreat for writers and artists. They come, occupy a room and finish their work in a very tranquil environment. The house has a chef and it is veeeery difficult to actually get a space there...

The Dinning room...

The Living room...

And THE BEDROOM...

Knock Knock... Royal Bedroom... shhhhhh...

We do not want to upset His Majesty from the eternal sleep, do we???

Yes, i am that brave, spitting on the face of death itself... just in the pictures!!!!

Waters of March? No, waters of Skagen

The Beautiful house of Lise Svanholm (a legitimate Plesner's house), our Hostess and delightful guide...

Lise, showing me the book she wrote, a delicious and enlightening book that I better read since she told me I will go through an examination next time we meet!!!

Denmark, and specially the little towns by the coast, have an elegance, a simplicity that transports me back to the 20's...

The lighthouse in Rubgerg... nature that scares, fascinates and is not so in love with human beings...

Truly, one of the most amazing places I have been to...

It is not easy to go all the way up to the lighthouse. You can't see in this picture but there is a constant sandstorm that makes it very hard to even keep your eyes open. On the other side, going down, there is the sea. Beautiful and strong... climbing back up the sandy hill was not an easy task, i am telling you!

That is the prize you get if you dare go down the cliff... Christian convinced me by saying there was even a wheelchair path. It was too late when I finally realized there was no such thing. Now I laugh when I remember I believed it!

The view from the distance...

I have heard about "living on the edge" but "Dead on the edge"? In some more weeks, as you can see, this sweet burial space will be swimming down the ocean... Enjoying the view?

Edgar Alan Poe's style...

When beauty turns creepy...

Cute can be so close to terror... the naive, ingenue and natural have an immense potential of becoming the scariest thing on earth. We all know about terrifying clowns, blond blue eyed children of the corn, fluffy animals that turn into beasts... houses made out of sweets that holds dark and frightening secrets... or even the latest Lars von Trier movie "Anti- Christ" where the scariest scenes, to me, were the ones where there was nothing happening, just shots of nature and a strange expectancy of something very wrong that is about to happen...well...

Here I am in this very cute house, surrounded by nothing and everything seems so "cozy", so natural and enjoyable... until the lights, all fo a sudden went off, the water, for some strange reason stopped running, there were heavy clouds in the sky, sounds of thunder and it is almost midnight... then, all the sweetness and the already above mentioned scenario turns around with the speed of a lightening and we are all fearing for dear life!!! I am not even joking! I actually had images of "The dawn of the Dead", or "The attack of the Zombies" pestering my mind while I tried to step outside the house to look at the dark sky, why did I have to watch so many horror movies in the eighties? All of a sudden this peaceful fishing village took the form of a Zombie colony and us, the perfect victims from the big city, were going to be devoured!!! Of course I did not mention "my plot" to the others, I suffered a quiet and silent, almost, state of panic while they messed around with their own imagination, trying to look perfectly in control. Christian then suggested: Shall we get the car and drive around the Island to see if it is all over? It sounded like a good idea to me for the car felt a bit like the most secure place since we could drive over the zombies!!! It was pitch black outside, i kinda ran into the car and as we drove through a very narrow path of bushes and trees I could not contain my inner images anymore and spoke out: imagine if a zombie smashed his face against the wind shill right now? Christian's daughter screamed in horror as if by just mentioning it I made it happen. Christian laughed nervously while turning on the radio to try to catch some important information (an atomic bomb being dropped or something like this). The antenna had to be lifted up... yeah right... who was going to step out of the car, surrounded by hungry zombies hiding behind the bushes? I opened my window and stretched my arm as far as possible but it was simply not enough! And now the news felt like the only thing that could save our lives, the contact with civilization itself! Christian stepped out of the car, faster than a bullet, fixed the antenna and came back just in time before a faceless zombie took a bite of his leg. Me and Siri screamed in a mix of joy and panic and by now the Zombie plot was the official story within our minds... we drove for 30 minutes without meeting anybody, all dark , until we bumped into a family, a father, a mother and 3 kids, walking with their faces down, in a line, they were all very blond and just added to the picture of the horror movie we were living out. We drove fast... soon we reached the local village and there were dozens of teenagers wondering around the dark streets, all was very quiet, they were probably coming back from an abruptly interrupted party... we heard sounds, there was a pickup truck with loud music playing, a hot dog stand and some more teenagers enjoying the sudden darkness... by now the panic had diminished, we were mingling around real people that only looked half alive because of the booze... thank God it was all very dark cause the three of us were wearing nothing but nightgowns adorned by rain boots!!! We came back home, lit some candles and drank delicious hot chocolate before dropping dead... of sleep...

A hut or a Castle?

I kinda like the fact that the Spa in Læsø is inside of an old church... it feels so contemporary, it gives so many interesting metaphorical readings... one could say that it represents the new religion, the adoration of ones own body, or as hindu Sages say: The honoring of one's own body as the temple of God or as Muktananda once said: "You can destroy a temple, a church, a mosque, but never hurt a human's heart for this is the real abode of God", I like that!!! And in a time where, in Brazil and South America, many art houses, cinemas and other establishments are becoming suspicious churches (where already poor devotees have to leave their monthly earnings to "enter the Kingdom of God") it is nice to see the other way around: Old and abandoned churches becoming living temples of healing and relaxation...

Well... I took some forbidden pictures cause camera's are not really encouraged inside the Spa. This one is from the biggest indoor pool with salty water...

This is a delicious and freezing cold passage for after one of the 4 Saunas...

A view form one of the windows at the Tower...

you can see myself and Christian outside of the Spa...

Now it is myself again with my step daughter Siri (far right) and her friends (from left to right) Marie, Vera and Matilda...

This is a pic from the Spa/Church, the other side of the tower and the view for the charming little town of Vesterø

A view from the first floor of the Spa

And another pic from the facade...

A hut or a castle??? That was my dilemma for so many years... somehow a hut, a simple little thing, meant to be striped of ambitions, a simple life that was carefree and earthy. Contrasting with it there was also the image of a huge house, meaning wealth and ambitions, a life that was all about acquiring and generating more wealth... It was hard for me to figure out what I really wanted from life, until the day i met one very special person and, after hearing about my dilemma, she said: Why not to have both? I had never thought it would be possible but all of a sudden, a huge blockage was undone... both... I liked it so much. It meant I could acquire, I could aim and afford expensive things but I did not have to give up the simplicity and joy of being carefree... I still like it... both... I love to come to this Island called Læsø and have a very simple life, buying vegetables from stands out in the road, swimming at midnight when the sun is still there, wearing sandals and frying Lobsters on the improvised outside kitchen... I also love that this Island has it's own luxurious Spa where, from time to time, we can simply have the most exclusive experience, floating on medicinal salty waters or soak on the outdoors Jacuzzi... yes... both!!!!