Posts Tagged ‘Olympics’

206354.png

Special mention

BM-17-2

Rio 16

Special mention

183323_600 Wasserman_Tribune_6

antigos-moradores-da-vila-autodromo-se-dizem-excluidos

Back in 2012, I wrote about the residents of Rio de Janeiro’s favelas (shanty towns) who were being evicted by the Brazilian government on behalf of the organizers of the 2014 World Cup and the Olympic Games now taking place there.

cvr-160804-vila-autodromo-option-03_ef74067c77100da4542b26fe81d6a753.nbcnews-ux-2880-1000

In the place of one such favela, Vila Autodromo, which was once home to more than 500 families, all that remains are “Olympic parking lot tarmac, raw dirt and 20 tiny white utilitarian cottages, built grudgingly by the city as a concession to a core of families who refused to leave even as their homes were demolished.”

IMG_4529

But the former residents haven’t forgotten either their old working-class neighborhood or the force that was used to evict them. So, they and their supporters have erected an open-air museum, the Museu das Remoções (Museum of the Evicted). It consists of seven installations built from materials left behind after the demolitions.

Each installation pays homage to a house or building that was demolished, as well as the struggle faced by the residents of the community.

The plan is for the museum to stay open through to the end of the games.

Meanwhile, the slogan “Nem todos tem um preço” (Not everyone has a price) remains visible on some of the free-standing walls of demolished buildings.

20160804pettRGB

Special mention

183140_600 download

183121_600

Special mention

183130_600 download

4868

Special mention

download (1) The Democrat Who Cried Trump!

Poem of the day

Posted: 6 August 2016 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,
31e6d17638273.560aef78be3b1

Fernando Cacciolari, “A Flor e a Náusea” (graphic novel)

If you watched or (as I did) read about the opening ceremony of the 2016 Olympic Games in Brazil, you will have caught the reading of a poem (in Portuguese by Fernanda Montenegro, in English by Judi Bench).

I don’t know if I ever read “A Flor e a Náusea” when I was an exchange student in Brazil but I do remember the author, Carlos Drummond de Andrade, especially for his everyday, quite left-wing writings and poetry (which, in 1970, under the military dictatorship, represented both an engagement with and an escape from the brutal reality).

Anyway, here are the opening stanzas of “The Flower and Nausea” (I’ve slightly modified the translation):

A FLOR E A NÁUSEA

Preso à minha classe e a algumas roupas,
vou de branco pela rua cinzenta.
Melancolias, mercadorias espreitam-me.
Devo seguir até o enjôo?
Posso, sem armas, revoltar-me?

Olhos sujos no relógio da torre:
Não, o tempo não chegou de completa justiça.
O tempo é ainda de fezes, maus poemas, alucinações e espera.

O tempo pobre, o poeta pobre
fundem-se no mesmo impasse.

THE FLOWER AND NAUSEA

Prisoner of my class and some clothing,
I walk, dressed in white along the gray street.
Melancholy, merchandise harass me.
Must I keep going until I am nauseous?
Can I rebel without arms?

Filthy eyes in the tower clock:
No, the time of complete justice hasn’t come.
It’s still the time of dung, bad poetry, hallucinations and hope.

A poor time, a poor poet
Merge together in the same impasse.

182970_600

Special mention

hillary_clinton_cankles_ben_garrison 182949_600

Nuevo doc 154

Special mention

182708_600 Stantis_Tribune_2

TMW2016-08-03color

Special mention

182892_600 182869_600