Rio de Sons

CURADORIA

Heloisa Murgel Starling

In the city, there is sound. Rio de Janeiro is song and noise. Our ears listen to an old samba playing in a botequim, the "olha o mate" shout on the beach, the carnival block passing in the street, the helicopter overflying a community. Silence does not exist. As we walk through the streets, we are invaded by sounds and noises with which we identify ourselves and identify the city.

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Tristes sons do Rio

A dry blast is accompanied by a streak of light that, like a shooting star, cuts through the night sky. Shortly after, the fireworks explode at the top of the hill, signaling another day of confrontations. There is a somber side to the soundscape that occupies the daily life of those who live in Rio. Sounds that cause dread. Music produced by armored cars and rifles. The shouting of the arrastão on the beach or in the tunnel. The blast of the bullet they call "stray," but which generally finds a victim. And she is almost always black, poor, a resident of the suburbs or the favelas.

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