In Baleiro, the scene no longer represents: it copies, mutates and deteriorates. And it does not even do so with any artistic intent, but rather with the desperation of someone who, faced with the collapse of meaning, decides to imitate what is there — even if that is nothing more than a looping selfie, an emotional karaoke session or a set with homemade chroma key

lights.

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The piece unfolds as a catalogue of actions that seem inspired by archaeological images of contemporary life, but which are only so to the extent that Instagram or any other platform allows. The emptied word, the prefabricated emotion, thought reduced to a TV advert. There is no message, but there is plenty of communication. Here, the self has mutated into a presenter, an influencer, a therapist to oneself, endless verbiage until dawn. The world is crumbling and we’re lip-syncing.

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In a theatrical space where everything is reminiscent of a television timeline, Baleiro proposes a stroll – rather than a narrative – through that flat emotional landscape where intensity is the incandescent norm and bewilderment is the politics of everyday life. It is not a critique: it is a misted mirror that reflects a blurred image of the present, yet one that is also familiar and close to home.​