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In a secret place, there exists Wendy. Restless and with no grand objective, she dances in fear. The colour red haunts her, obfuscating her reality in a sad shade of pink. A macabre perception of femininity composed by the troubled imagination of its director, who has moulded his transgender experience into a semi-autobiographical absurdist horror, which dissects his experience of gender - both physically and mentally.

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For the first time, Silvestre creates a piece that rejoices in meaning.

Horror Cabaret brings to life a show that gets its kicks from the performer’s deepest personal conflicts as it exposes the murder of oneself and the birth of another, a powerful being who chooses a sinister but joyful state of mind even during the hardest of times.

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“Film” seeks the union of Theatre with Cinema. It’s about an act that doubles itself and which parts (the theatrical and the cinematographic) play with each other in a constant struggle for something uncertain. A present in constant change as it seeks to reach the unreachable: Beauty, a divine being that hides, showing itself (but only barely).

Using both live performance and film, “Film" aims to reach all art enthusiasts. It’s a cry of love to all art forms. It thinks images as unique beings, silent and full of mystery. It’s about transporting the imaginary to the palpable world. The theatrical act as an aesthetic experience.

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Failing to ignore.

In this project, the word “blonde” takes control of the scene without actually doing so. This word will merely act as one of those unreachable beings we call images. It’s not about speaking about Alfred Hitchcock and his actresses, it’s about taking a hold of his universe, extracting its contents and altering them with no remorse. By doing this, “Hitchcock Blondes” wishes to use the master of suspense’s imaginary while, at the same time, ignoring it. However, as expected, it fails to achieve its goal.

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I take Samuel Beckett’s novel Murphy and I go through it over and over again, looking for small things that can inspire me to create something greater than myself. The idea is to ferociously go through the words and images that come up while reading the novel and then throw them away and keep the leftovers. 


In “SNOW”, there’s no need for a narrative. Snow White’s story as we know it will not be taking place (nor has it ever taken place).

It’s not about a representation of a past or a future, it’s about the present, a present that can only happen in the theatrical context.

We constantly search for beauty, that divine entity that’s unreachable. We want it so, yet we cannot reach it. What’s godly is not for us to behold, our eyes are not made to see it. We look at the sun and it blinds us, it burns our skin, it is precious and unattainable. In “Retratos” (Portraits), the represented figures are the unreachable ones, their memories altered by time. Groucho Marx is no longer Groucho, Norma Jean is no longer Norma and so on, so on. These are our gods, dead or alive they are our wishes and dreams. No longer human, they hunt our minds. By taking advantage of their holiness, a new object was born, new images have rose, distorted beings begging to be released.

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