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MANUEL VASON x CAROLINE MORAES = the eternal tango.
by Caroline Moraes, around the exhibit Still_Móvil, by Manuel Vason and the South American Dance Net (Rede Sul-Americana de Dance).
The Dance was frozen. Paralyzed in eternity, in the midway of a movement, non-action forever. The Dance had traveled much, very much indeed. Crossed the world, to the younger continent, leaping from country to country and when it arrived where everyone said there was more shuffle and swing, it was frozen. It was caught by surprise, at the moment it was making a face, painted in blue, sitting in a rustic kitchen, slightly abandoned. It didn’t expect the curse of that machine brought to life to freeze life in its surroundings. Photography caught Dance in a leap.
For a long time, the lenses of Photography observed Dance passing by. Sometimes on its own, sometimes in a group, at times naked, hanging from chandeliers for amusement, walking the streets at night, under dim light. Dance was searching for its place, any space where it could fit in. It wanted to move, find senses. It continued its search, meeting people, anguish, research and difference. It noticed Photography’s observation, deceitful and in disguise. Dance enjoyed being looked at, and whenever possible, would look over its partners’ shoulders inviting Photography for the next piece of music.
Obsessed Photography wanted Dance for itself. It wanted to have the rich lights and shadows, the presence and absence all to itself. It kept a distance, recording each tiny move of a muscle, waiting for the moment to act.
Then, the day came. Following Dance step by step across South America, Photography knew just what to do. And when Dance climbed the highest rock and twisted its naked body with eyes closed, entangling its fingers and feet by the sound of the wind that was its music, CLICK. Dance heard the shot and tried to escape, hiding in the shadow of a table, behind cigarette stubs, disguised in the sadness of a woman’s eyes, under the heavy iron chains. It didn’t understand why it was under attack. Photography was in love, but its only way to love was capturing images and keeping them all for itself.
Dance was reluctant, it tried adapting. After all, in a very fast sequence, it could still be movement. But Photography had this unpleasant habit of thinking within a frame and Dance couldn’t run away from those four boundaries. It was frozen there, with a stretched hand under the water that had been a stream once.
Paralyzed, Dance had a long time to think about a way to escape from there. Its place was in the world, moving up about and not frozen in only one pair of eyes. Then, it had an idea. It called Photography and said that if it were set free just once, it would make the most beautiful presentation for the camera lenses. Vain as it was and entirely seduced, Photography didn’t resist the proposal to have unique and exclusive images that only it could have seen. So it agreed to, only once, set Dance free.
It placed itself in the best spot and ordered the show to start. Music came in first. A tango. A light was cast upon the body in the center of the stage. Dance was still, feet straight together and arms relaxed along the torso. Photography was anxious for its new and unique images. The strong beat throbbing made one want to stampede. But Dance didn’t dance. It remained there, only breathing still with a provoking look, a light smile on its face. Photography was furious, but also very excited. It wanted to go there and spin with Dance, but it was afraid of losing something while it moved. So it sat there waiting.
Parararan Pan Pan, the music was over and the lights were out all of a sudden. All was completely dark. Photography didn’t see anything, but heard light fast steps. It charged a flash to light the place. However, it was too late. Dance had already escaped. Photography tried to chase it, but all it got was a colorful blotch that changed direction at each shot. Its broken heart then understood that for craving Dance all to itself, it got nothing.
To the present day, Dance and Photography meet around the world and flirt in a respectful ballet exchanging moves and looks, touching each other now and then, feeling a brief heat on the skin. The limit imposed was Dance’s freedom to come and go without ever being captured and imprisoned again. As for Photography, well, it was allowed to occasionally steal this movement for itself, giving its interpretation and keeping for its eyes the feeling that watching Dance stirs. In spite of the beginning out of compass until these two could live, in a certain way, happily ever after, there was an agreement. In spite of their dissatisfaction and the endless quest for what is yet to follow.
Caroline Moraes is an ads woman who opted for seeing the world through the lenses of her camera, capturing only what she believes belongs to her.
PS: The photos illustrating this text are cuts made by Caroline Moraes of photos produced by Sergio Valenzuela, Carolina Herman, Marcelo Evelyn, Giselle Rodriguez, Lorna Ortiz in collaboration with Manuel Vason.
Translation Portuguese-English: writer and poet Chris Ritchie, M.A.