The infinitude os emptiness before Cacau Brasil´s Vertigo
“I come to tell you the truth, there is no truth!” (C.B.)
The artistic activity, and as extension, the cultural one, is paradoxically stimulated by need, be it individual or social, objective or subjective, and is most revealed when instructed within the most diverse prisons provided by the being or by the society.
The multiple performance of an artist is generically the greatest search condition concerning what is infinite in creation. Artists create universes and inhabit into them, or, as from them, indicate portals to other spirit amplitudes. The greatest the fecundity of their lucubration and actions, the greatest are the potentialities permissible to those that can overcome this imagination portals.
Launched at Bienal, São Paulo, 2008
Cacau Brasil, singer, composer, poet, theater author and coordinator of an NGO announces himself as such, beyond the substrates of paper, sounds, gestures and tribulations of the third path. Also a plastic artist, moreover the intimate nature ravishment on canvas, he deconstructs himself in diverse ways: on nuances, shadows, labyrinthical or announcing way, and even as body gestualization. Sounds, silences, specters, fantasies, everything is enigmatic to reach the subjectivity of those who see him, read him, try to decipher him, or simply, adhere to the field of so many mysteries.
When glimmering not more than the multiplicity of his art embedded in this most recent creative appropriation, even knowing about the impossibility of total abstraction, what we have dare was to attempt for the dimensions to be revealed in our symbolic reception. Here, we don’t want to be a judge, a critic or an anxious academic before the objects and gestures of Cacau Brasil´s creation, other than an appreciator and participant in these spheres.
Thus, we surround the immensity of this cosmos as a poet before the great explosion of mysteries… We continue, step by step, searching the core of enunciations, as a peregrine of deliriums and astonishments. And we rejoice ourselves in this denouement...
At the beginning, the Verb mounted on the concrete orientation title-enigma, square of alphabetic cells. Nothing else. The evidence becomes shady in an almost Babel language. It is with minuscule ones that the labyrinth is announced: omistériootempoempoesias. Poetry in broad sense, as “poíesis”, action of making, creating something.
Symbols, signs, graphs go along and interlace among colors and words. In-out or solid-sublimed or action-paralysis, take the risk is to throw yourself in the vertigo proposed by the artist. The libertarian insinuates that delusion is the wish desire of human beings. Perverse truth, but carrying “All sorrows/All colors/All loves”.
Is the man its own manifestation, be under the recurrent blue mantle – the blue that covers everything? – or its own cross – himself, with open arms? -, minuscule, almost nothing, trying to move to reach the center of everything.
Even the open hands that flank the mandala, the disfigured masks at the darken center of anguish, pillars that support the artist, everything is transfigured as thoughts that shine in the eyes of wise man or as deliriums that burn body and soul.
The artist condition is vertigo. The world is much more his interior universe to diffuse in colors and symbols to the eyes of the spectator, who extinguishes him/herself before a sphinx.
When versioned into words, Cacau Brasil refuses to be hermetic. There are words, and even full of enigmas, denoted to accomplish the ritual of perplexity, denounce, investiture in a humanitarian sense. Invaded by a deluded attempt to understand the world, when poet, he denounces everything: the obvious, “the non thinking / the non questioning / the non existing / the non!”, having the awareness that it is “Being nothing. / Being everything.”
Thus, discovering the meaning of these spirit manifestations is to be noticed before an emptiness that enlarges most. Each one, before acts and gestures, is represented among colors and words, is mirrored, and at the end, is absurdly reflected. Cacau Brasil´s vertiginous world is built this way: truly, without any absolute truth. This way.
jorge pieiro, writer,
do não-lugar que é panaplo, século XXI.