Articles by: Marcelo Ballvé
The protagonists of tomorrow are people who are off-line, somehow off the grid, "unsophisticated" or simply unimpressed by the general spectacle of information-overload and conspicuous consumption.
My grandfather, before he died, told me his own repertoire of stories about the Che Guevara he knew, when Che was even younger than the twenty-something traveler portrayed in the film "The Motorcycle Diaries."
The Madeira River in western Brazil is the Amazon's longest tributary and one of the best-preserved tropical waterways and jungle corridors in the world. A project for two massive dams on its remote upper reaches has long been a matter of controversy, not only among environmentalists, but also among Brazilian technocrats unsure of the risks.
These days it seems journalists have become less popular than lawyers. The widespread perception of journalism is that it is a field full of pedantic windbags and hacks with hidden agendas. For anyone who might be looking for evidence there is such a thing as a journalist with something mind-expanding to say, whose work is potentially as life-changing as a great film or novel, I recommend Ryszard Kapuscinski. His books might serve to dissuade journalist-haters from their blanket dismissal of our kind, the scribbling tribe.
It was exactly forty years ago that the musical revolution that came to be known as Tropicália was introduced to Brazil, and the world. Tropicália's genesis can be dated with some precision. It came when two musicians in their mid-twenties, Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil, courageously took to the stage at a 1967 song festival in São Paulo with compositions that they knew would sorely stress the boundaries of musical taste. Their performance was epoch-defining. It was a kind of big bang from which much that came afterward in Brazilian pop music history evolved.