Allowing the unexpected to happen 

 

Since 2022, the Festival d’Automne's Carte Blanche has been inviting artists and collectives to conjure up a Festival programme intended as a space for dialogue and exchanges between different practices. Following on from Les Chichas de la pensée, Alice Diop and Dream City, the 2025 edition is hosting the Brazilian arts centre Casa do Povo. Over the course of three weeks, the team from São Paulo will be setting up base at the Maison des Métallos in the 11th arrondissement of Paris. By turns a school, theatre, place of debate and shelter, the Casa is the embodiment of an institution in perpetual movement, founded on what is common to us all. It is this way of doing things, both politically and collectively, that the Carte Blanche will be giving us the opportunity to experience.

 

 

You direct the Casa do Povo, a unique arts centre in the Bom Retiro area of São Paulo. What is its history?

Benjamin Seroussi: When I first discovered the place in 2012, it had been completely abandoned. It was very moving to see this immense place, almost 4000 m² spread across several floors and large open expanses, about to close down. The only activity remaining was a choir for 80-year-old women that rehearsed, unaccompanied, every Monday evening, Le Chant des partisans (Song of the Partisans) in Yiddish, in an area which has now become Korean, Bolivian, and Peruvian. The origins of the building go back to the post-war period, in continuation of the anti-fascist movement that began in 1937. At that time, a conference in Paris called upon left-wing Jews across the world to set up anti-fascist cultural associations. In the Bom Retiro area, a host of choirs, newspapers, cultural centres and libraries sprung up. Casa do Povo was born from an unexpected encounter between two different causes. On the one hand, the bringing together of these local Jewish anti-fascist associations under the roof of a cultural centre, a place where they could reinvent themselves, and on the other, the creation of a place dedicated to the memory of those who died during the Shoah. This double cause resulted in what was to all intents and purposes a living monument, an empty place in which to remember the dead, and take care of the living. A place where there is nothing to see but where there is much to be done. Over the course of its history, Casa do Povo has been home to a constructivist school, a library, a Yiddish choir, the Nossa Voz (Our Voices) newspaper and politically engaged theatre groups. In 1960, a theatre was built in the basement. The centre has evolved in accordance with the various crises and periods of political upheaval, both internationally, and in Brazil, namely the military dictatorship. As a result, Casa do Povo's place during the 1960's and 1970's was that of a centre of resistance and counter-culture. At the end of the dictatorship, it lost some of its pertinence but fully regained its sense of purpose from 2013 onwards due to the profusion of new, autonomous social movements. Referring to the Casa do Povo evokes this context of Brazil and the history of a specific migrant group, but also much more than that. It is a Jewish place which remains radically open to all, ranging from migratory communities and movements, to minorities and the unseen, black people, indigenous people, Latinos and LGBTQIAPN+. It is a way of saying "never again" in relation to Jewish people, but also to Palestinians today. It is a place for remembering, the generosity of which extends to all, and which is not afraid of losing itself in those around it. 

 

How are the different activities organised? 

The artistic project that we have been collectively developing since 2012 is about making sure the centre remains a relatively porous one which avoids traditional categories. We don't ask ourselves the question of whether such and such an activity is cultural, artistic or social, amateur or professional. We prefer to think in terms of a venue whose programme is in direct correlation with its values, and history, as well as any urgent needs that may arise, as opposed to one which corresponds to a fixed criteria. What is committed, popular and experimental art today? In what way does our history invite us to think up these forms and adapt our venue accordingly? Our response to this has been to invent several ways of working, between what we drive forward, what we host and what we listen to. Firstly, we invite artists whose work we have commissioned; we also carry out pedagogical activities and publish a magazine. We then host around twenty groups who have the keys to the venue and who share in its running and programming of events. It's rare to have the keys to a place, and this obviously has a political meaning. They might be community associations, the Yiddish choir of course, a Korean choir, a Bolivian fashion wear co-operative, activists, a boxing academy open to all, a psycho-analysis clinic, as well as theatre, dance and visual arts groups. There is then a third element, which is to do with active listening: what needs does the area have, as well as those of its inhabitants, and what response can we provide on the basis of who and what we are? This generates friction and tensions of different kinds, which we call community-based articulation.  .

 

At the invitation of the Festival d’Automne, you're going to be setting up a temporary home at the Maison des Métallos in Paris. 
How can you relocate this way of operating which is so unique?

 

We are a diaspora-like venue ourselves, so there's no reason why we shouldn't be able to travel. When an arts centre has its space and programme of events taken away, what remains of it? In our case, I think that what remains is its different ways of doing things, which are related to our values. This is what we want to bring with us. We also think that the best way of enabling the house of the people to travel is to allow the people from the house to travel, meaning the groups which accompany us. A dozen or so projects will be taking place at the Maison des Métallos, encompassing specific initiatives (such as the film by Yael Bartana or the piece by MEXA, which we commissioned) and resident groups, such as the boxing academy – a major part of Casa do Povo – or Parquinho Gráfico which works in the field of graphic design and is one of the groups which has the keys to the centre. We will be putting in place a space for welcoming parents and their children, developed by Graziela Kunsch, an artist who works in close collaboration with Casa do Povo. In addition to this "common ground", we will also be experimenting with the French word for host, hôte, and its various meanings. The Festival d’Automne asked the Maison des Métallos to give us the keys, which we will be taking and then handing over to the Festival, allowing it to have, for the first time, a temporary home of its own. This is our way of building up a community and inhabiting a place whose history dialogues with our own.

 

Who will this community be made up of? 

 

The groups which are going to carry out their activities at the Maison des Métallos will be doing so in collaboration with organisations and their representatives from the Ile-de-France region, including boxing clubs, graphic design workshops, and childcare professionals. The aim is to have a local connection, but also to bring about changes of location, as well as misunderstandings and unexpected gestures. This is the role of art, to bring about, from time to time, ambiguity. This is how we work at Casa do Povo. We decentralise decisions without losing coherence. It is important that each group works in a completely independent manner, and has a direct relationship with its target audience and various communities. Yael Bartana's work might attract those interested in contemporary art, while boxing might attract people from anti-fascist sport and a place for welcoming young families might attract local parents. These communities then create an audience. This sets up the possibility of unexpected encounters, which will in turn provide, we hope, the basis for a place which is full of life. 

 

So it's a place which will be open to the unexpected?

We create a framework, that of a place the potential of which we don't want to restrict in any away. For us, it is important for it to be a place where the unexpected can happen. We want to be able to embrace the world without swallowing it up, and for it to be a place which is flexible without being precarious, porous without being diluted and open whilst being coherent. Actions, however, often speak louder than words. So, after this Carte Blanche we will be checking to see if any new words have arisen in order to evoke these gestures that we hope to put in place in Paris. Something that will be present in our minds are the words of the Brazilian writer Clarice Lispector: "Getting lost is also a possible pathway".

 

 

Interview conducted by Vincent Théval, March 2025