"A Noiva e o Boa Noite Cinderela" by Carolina Bianchi, extracts

Do you know one or more women who told you, maybe long after the fact, that they were assaulted? What do you know? What did they tell you? What did they manage to tell you? And what do they remember? Do you know Pippa Bacca, an Italian artist who was raped and killed while doing a travelling performance? Those are the questions A Noiva e o Boa Noite Cinderela asks. For the first part of their Cadela Força trilogy, Brazilian artist Carolina Bianchi and her collective Cara de Cavalo wanted to begin with a conference where we, the audience, are buried under the enumeration of violent acts. The walls may be white, the thinking rigorous, but don’t be fooled: we’re in the antechamber of hell. A hell which, due to rape drink, follows us all the way into sleep. A space where the present can suddenly collapse into the past without warning. How can one overcome this fragmentation of time between memory and dream, between imagination and feasible reality?