“Vira mais Cinco” (também para o Zeca) É música portuguesa. É música para o Mundo. É uma espécie de Vira, para virar a música ao contrário, de pernas para o ar, como quem faz o pino. E o Zeca também procurou virar a mesa, virar para o lado melhor o mundo que vivia. Cantemos. Dancemos. Mas não fiquemos parados. Vira! Vira. O melhor da vida é o contrário do invariável.” Júlio Resende
Realização e Edição: Daniel Mota
Composto por Júlio Resende Direcção Musical e Arranjos Originais - Júlio Resende Produção - Júlio Resende
Piano - Júlio Resende Guitarra portuguesa - Bruno Chaveiro Contrabaixo - André Rosinha Bateria - Alexandre Frazão
Gravado no Atlantico Blue Studios, Julho 2020, por André Tavares Mistura de André Tavares / Júlio Resende Masterização de André Tavares
Ludwig van Beethoven - Variations for Piano in F Major, Op. 34
From the International Piano Festival of La Roque d'Anthéron, 2004 Les Pianos de Demain: outstanding performances by young upcoming talents, including this one by pianist Jean-Frédéric Neuburger
Like every summer for decades, a hundred pianists from around the globe gather under the sycamores of the French Provence to delight audiences with one of the most celebrated piano festivals in the world. A unique festival diary with outstanding performances by Christian Zacharias, Yundi Li, Boris Berezovsky, Piotr Anderszewski, Stephen Kovacevich, etc. as well as by young upcoming talents.
A photographic journey into the contradictions of Siberia—its pristine wilderness and despoiled landscapes, its pockets of wealth and abandoned cultural centers.
Growing up near Washington DC at the end of the Cold War, New York–based photographer Michael Turek (born 1982) has always been drawn to Russia as a taboo, forbidden place. This project began in the winter of 2016 when he joined award-winning British writer Sophy Roberts as she pursued a three-year search for a historic piano in Siberia; he traveled to the region another five times, exploring the vast territory east of the Ural Mountains all the way to the Pacific.
Turek’s images record a constant tension—sometimes bizarre, often unsettling—between desecrated landscapes alongside pristine wildernesses; between the lives of indigenous people and modern Russians; between worn-out infrastructure and abandoned towns juxtaposed with gleaming new cities pumping gas and oil. The journey takes him deeper and deeper into small towns and villages, into the arsenic-green corridors of Khrushchev apartment blocks. The photographs have a slowness and a stillness to them. Each one is a fragment of a conversation, a moment of genuine intimacy between subject and photographer.