As in a dialogue moderated by invisible rules, perhaps probability, frequency, telepathy or espionage, Google likes to complete our searches for us. Typing in “ways to”, the search engine promptly suggests a number of options: “be wicked”, “be richer”, “save money”, “make money”. If you look up “things that fly” in Portuguese, the Brazilian version will throw up links to UFOs and drones. No helicopters, no airplanes, not even the Brazilian-made Super Tucano, the jet fighter which, after transporting large quantities of drugs at the behest of serving and as yet unpunished government ministers and members of Congress, became a flying emblem of the political crisis Brazil has been mired in since the bribery and graft scandals involving politicians and state-run companies, like Petrobras, first exploded in 2014. Paraphrasing this sort of arbitrary and apparently automatic associative writing, Angélica Freitas began a series of poems dedicated to tying up the loose ends of the scandal—of the laugh-so-as-not-to-cry variety—, some of them handwritten, seeing as they are doomed to be forgotten anyway.

Across the pages of the author’s notebook fly a priest tied to helium balloons, verses by the 1980s girlband As frenéticas, the unpublishable nicknames given to a senator embroiled in the corruption scandal and some beautiful, faithful buzzards. For the soiree Macrofonia, held at Casa da Luz in São Paulo in June 2017, the texts were given new associations in sound and image. Armed with some prerecorded soundtracks, the musician and actress Juliana Perdigão probes Angelica’s live readings with sounds ranging from the rhythmical to the ambient, sometimes existing solely to underscore what the flux of things allows to slip by. Like an exercise in co-creation between two interlocutors from different fields, both equipped with the discursive apparatuses of their time, Coisas que voam [Things that Fly] continues after this initial event. Invited by the Triennial, the series takes up a two-month residence on Facebook and YouTube.

[A.M.M.]