Luís Mestre / Teatro Nova Europa

Noite de Verão

— But I can’t dance!
— You teach me a poem, I’ll teach you to dance.

In the fourth night of Tetralogia das Estações [Seasons Tetralogy], by Luís Mestre, two millennials meet at an abandoned holiday resort. They’ve just met, and they don’t know they’re there for each other. That hot summer, they wish to feel a welcoming, intangible lightness, which is something they lost precociously in their short lives. They’ve been through two asymmetrical crises in ten years: the financial one and the pandemic one. They seemingly discuss ordinary, light stuff. But what they really wan’t to say, what they’re really talking about, voice and body, is their anxieties and their fears. — Luís Mestre / Teatro Nova Europa

Noite de Inverno

In the third night of Tetralogia das Estações [Seasons Tetralogy], identity, stories and their origins are vague. Pressure hovers as the drama and the secrets unfold and change the energy distribution. Fractured, made-up, manipulated or real memories flow as a draught. There is no strict differentiation between what is real and what is unreal, nor between what is true and what is false. In Noite de Inverno [Winter Night], a biographic text, Luís Mestre draws a path across the delicate territory between the public and the private realms. — Luís Mestre / Teatro Nova Europa