by André de Sá Moreira

Andros Dresamore i runs and jumps in slow motion over bicycle hoops, as if he were clearing Olympic hurdles. The triumphant music of Vangelis's Chariots of Fire transforms this ridiculous gesture into an absurd epic, a hymn to pointless glory. He runs for nothing. He jumps for nothing. And yet, the music says the opposite: it swells, it exalts, it transforms the gesture into heroism. The bicycle hoops become mythological obstacles, sacred hurdles of an imaginary Olympiad. It's a false victory, but we believe in it, as we always believe in what we know is lost in advance. There is tender humor and microscopic tragedy here: everything is small, but the soundtrack wants us to believe in infinity.

A sporting feat that isn't one. Glory on the scale of a sidewalk. It doesn't need a stadium. It nestles in the cracks and parking lots. Here, the art isn't in the leap but in the sabotage of the gesture.