Veit Stratmann


30.10 - 10.11 [12h - 17h]

 > Café Ceuta



For years now I thought of a sequence in the Paul Auster/Wayne Wang/Harvey Wang Movie BLUE IN THE FACE, where the corner store keeper Augie Wren shows the pictures of his street corner, he takes every morning as a kind of ritual to pay indirectly for a camera he had stolen years before.

And I am very interested in the question, who, in visual arts, hold the authority for the time spent in the presence of a work of art or the production of such a thing. So I thought, as one part of the presence in the Café Ceuta, it would be a worthwhile experience to take every day during the same hours, in the same interval of, say, 10 to 15 minutes, a picture from the same spot on a the same table in the same angle with the same protocol. The pictures should be taken frontally from my chair, in table height, as to return the space like a sock by viewing it from a level people generally look at but not from ; to create a sort of central layer, which usually is the stage, the bragging part of a café but not its lookout.  I presume the pictures coming out will be out of context in context – a materialized layer between two voids.

In the same time, the rhythm is just a technical arbitrary question, a protocol without any direct link to the activities in the café, a sort of temporality that squeezes itself in between all those urgencies and slowings down that make the place. I have no idea what comes out, but it will be worth looking at as a sum of information, maybe as something to be analyzed. I don’t know if it is a work of art or just something an artist did. The 10/15 slot is chosen because I would like to have the time to live the space and see if another adventure, I can not foresee, comes up.


Winnie HO (Superhova) & Samuel Draper


06.11 - 12.11 

> Praça D. João I & Praça S. Lázaro


 What happens when one lingers to look a little longer? To see the whole, expanding, including. , greeting, understanding and sharing space with the human and non-human inhabitants of a place: person, concrete, tree, spirit, sky, traffic lights, pigeon, fly.  We will work with respectful loitering and deep listening practices that attune the senses towards empathic responses, and to examine the classic elusive question of improvisation and performance-making in public spaces - "What does the space need?" - is less about imposing and more a matter of waiting/revealing  and becoming with - Dancing, perhaps, with a plant-like mentality. 


Hamish Fulton


12.11 - 16.11 [ 13h30 - 16h ]

> Praça D. João I


My communal walks may involve numbers of participants ranging from 15 to 350.

Walk sites are chosen from the existing urban environment, such as - car parks, public footbridges and pedestrian road crossings.

This category of walking is purposeless and is intended as a shared experience.



Claudia Hill


13.11 - 17.11 11h30-13h30 & 14h30-16h30 ]

> espaço público &  Mala Voadora 


We come together in this lab as enthusiasts of textile, composition and somatic communication.

We work collectively with found cloth from our domestic and local setting, as you can sense through it the traces of history and time.

Over the course of a week, we investigate different working methods.

The flag/s are created with the intention to send out a visual signal in response to the fragile current state of affairs.

There will be a simple performative component at the end of the lab.

This invitation to participate is addressed to artists, performers, activists, poets, students, or philosophers. No sewing skills required!


Rui Catalão


14.11 - 17.11 [ 17h - 19h & 21h - 23h ]

> Café Ceuta


Poucas semanas antes de morrer, Eric Dolphy deu um concerto em que apresentou um tema inédito: “The madrig sings, the panther walks”. Nunca consegui perceber o que significava “madrig”, mas o trio de músicos holandeses que acompanhou Dolphy em Hilversum aproximou-me do enigma: perto da sala onde eles ensaiavam, havia um parque com pavões. Amante do canto dos pássaros, cujo som reproduzia ou estilizava na sua música, Dolphy nunca tinha ouvido pavões e ficou fascinado: todos os dias procurava comunicar com eles, imitando-lhes o canto.

A imitação dos pássaros, no entanto, é só uma contigência mágica na sua música. O interesse estava no diálogo. Ou melhor: na conversa. Fosse a conversa com pássaros ou com alguns dos músicos mais apaixonantes da sua época (Charlie Mingus, John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, a lista é muito longa, apesar de Dolphy ter morrido aos 36 anos).

A ideia que Dolphy fazia da palavra “conversa” ia além das palavras: o acto de “falar com”, mais os seus momentos de escuta, de troca rápida de palavras, de interrupções, de monólogos, de perguntas e interjeições, para ele era um jogo musical.

Não é impunemente que um dos seus discos mais marcantes tenha por título “Out there” – é do lado de fora que surgem os sons, o canto, as vozes. Sem “lá fora” não existe como criar um mundo “cá dentro”. O trânsito entre dois mundos pode fazer-se de muitas maneiras e todas as maneiras podem caber na palavra “conversa” (“Conversations foi o título de outro disco de Eric Dolphy).


Quando a Ana Rocha me convidou para participar no programa de “Out there” eu andava a ouvir “Out there” de Eric Dolphy e apercebi-me que apesar de escutá-lo há tantos anos nunca tinha identificado o aspecto mais crucial da sua música: a conversa. Dias depois, a Ana propôs-me trabalhar numa sala de jogos no Porto e a minha memória disparou para os meus anos de adolescente, em que passava todas as tardes, depois das aulas, a jogar bilhar. E sempre com o mesmo adversário! 

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