Notes for a future

I have grown tired of this lonely path and I do not want to die.
— Wayqeycuna, de Tiziano Cruz

I’m 91 and I want to make love every day.
— A vida secreta dos velhos, de Mohamed El Khatib

The 2024 festival programme dances between life and death, death and life. In some works, lives are heavy with violence, grief, and injustice. In others, there is life and love until the very last breath.

These realities exist side-by-side, and often intertwine. There is despair. But there is also hope in the works that show us the most optimistic versions of what our future might be. Versions of what the future should be for more people, for all people. That is our radical dream.

A future in which we are old. All of us. We are all old.

A future in which we have learned about time. We have lived in our bodies and in the world. Beyond what was expected of us, beyond what we expected of ourselves.
A future in which we have mothers and sisters and daughters. We have friendships that span oceans and alliances that keep the fire burning. We have homes that are our own, memories and walls intact. We have our languages, all languages. Gal Costa sings.

A future in which we have learned what some of us may have forgotten – or never known – about trees and water. In which we honour those who are no longer with us and where rituals, both old and new, have their place.

A future in which we are still dreaming, still writing, still dancing. In which we are still gathering. Still telling stories.

In this future, you are not dead. You are not dead, and you are not alone.

Carla Nobre Sousa & David Cabecinha
(artistic directors)

08.10.2024