The earth is in a trance, on the edge of the abyss.

What can the artist do in a world on fire? 

At the threshold of risk, Ângela Berlinde dives into her archive to extract poetic forms from the cartographic conjuncture that led her to inhabit, in the last decade, two lands intrinsically connected by the expansionism of modern history: her homeland, Portugal, and her half-breed son, Brazil. 

In the vastness of the Amazon rainforest, TRANSA invites us to an aesthetic and existential dance across the hybridism of photography, surprising us with indigenous myths and tales, such as that of Iracema, the "virgin of the honey lips" of José de Alencar's novel, as an embodiment of the creative and fertile grace of nature. In this crossing, reflections about the idea of Man living detached from the Earth and denying the plurality of life forms vibrate in the encounter with the original communities that have been thrown to the edges of the world.

Between the tear of Iracema that hangs suspended in history and the abyss of the sky falling causing that which is apparently solid to tremble with uncertainty, appear metaphysical questions about our indeterminate predestination - a call to imagine a clearer world.