I bring stories from the South, a place frequently referred to as “down somewhere”. Perhaps stories from the South brought me up here too. But what is up and what is down? When I was a boy, I was told that the South is at the bottom of the map. North is on top of us, I was told. Luckily, my perceptions have changed. I am neither down somewhere, nor up anywhere. I am not looking up, nor down at anyone. Without further and farther directions, I am from Brazil.
I am not Yanomami. I am not Tupi, nor a direct descendant of any Indigenous nation. I am also not Black. I was born by the confluence of Brazilian settlers, a heritage that is linked to colonizers, but most importantly, to other obscured protagonists.

My ancestors were not ripped from their lands and brutally forced to work on the latifundios. But my ancestors never owned the land. My family name carries no power, no deeds. Brazilians usually have several last names. Some become lost over the years, depending which direction the family grows. For the most part, Brazilian tradition is extremely patriarchal. Married heterosexual women rarely have a choice in keeping their maiden names. Thus, it can be difficult to trace ancestry and heritages. My last names clearly indicate an inheritance passed down from old Portuguese men.

My birth certificate occludes any indications of the obvious (impure) mixes that came along the way. The brutal colonization process has made this kind of naming (or documentation) a common practice in Brazil. Some may choose their prevailing Portuguese last name as indisputable proof of a pure European bloodline. However, some are brave enough, or proud enough, to share the hidden stories, the ones purposefully forgotten along the way.
My grandparents’ ancestors are believed to be descendants of the first colonizers that invaded Brazil. However, there are rumours about Indigenous and African family members “tampering” the bloodline along the way. Unfortunately, little is shared about the more interesting parts of my heritage, hardly acknowledged by some of the older family members. In Brazil, multi-ethnicity is often a common destiny.
I began learning Capoeira at the age of ten, and it became a gateway, leading me to other Brazilian traditions. Capoeira quickly became profoundly meaningful in my life. Beyond a ritual to be respected, practiced, and studied, Capoeira became a part of my identity. What began with my body quickly took over my soul. As explained by Pierre Bourdieu, what I learn through my body is not something I possess, but rather something that constitutes who I am.
My childhood was also filled by the beats and spirits of Umbanda and Candomblé. My mother would take us to terreiros (sacred locations where rituals are performed) to be blessed and receive guidance from spiritual entities. We learned, at a very young age, to respect the Orixás and what they embodied, justice, bravery, the oceans, rivers and forests, were just some of the interconnected entities that have always guided and protected me.

The rituals within Capoeira have close ties to terreiros. There are several practices in Capoeira that are directly related to Umbanda and Candomblé that shows an amalgamation process between them across history. Many of its practitioners are devoted to the spiritual practices of Umbanda and Candomblé, and some are important figures within these religions.
Capoeira is a Brazilian art form. It is a ritual, with deeply rooted origins and causes. Capoeira was fundamental to the birth of a (sub)culture that embraced Afro-Brazilians and other marginalized groups alike. The ritual was created by the hands of African and native slaves, but also influenced by the amalgamation of different heritage found in the colonial project.
Hence, my work is created through a physical process. A process that summonses and amalgamates the various essences and heritages of my being. Different aspects and characters that take front stage, at different times, in different projects, at different moments, contribute to an endless path of discovery and growth. A recurring metamorphosis and adaptation that are essential to both my work and sense of self. I am undefined by nature, open to explore what is presented today, yesterday, and tomorrow.
Masks have always amazed me, and through the years, masks have gained focus in my artistic practice. Aggravated by the current social, political, environmental and health crisis in Brazil, I am still very much committed to unveiling true and unheard stories. My work is an insatiable search for resistance and empowerment, a political act of enchantment, summoning masks, poetry, performance, and film.