ing, not what is written; the illegibility is connected to that”, states AH (Ana Hatherly. Dessins, collages et papiers peints). And yet, not only do we continue, with patient enthusiasm, our attempts at deciphering, but she herself tries to placate our thirst and hunger by transcribing into print the illegible text in the final drawing of O Escritor (“O texto-não-texto — A propósito de ‘O Escritor’”, O espaço crítico — do simbolismo à vanguarda, Editorial Caminho, 1979): the words climb down the poet’s face likewater curtains that close upon the poet’s horrified face the poet is inside the inside or else outside We will stop here, inviting you to continue reading later, by quoting the final lines: “a thousand writings climb down when they climb down they emerge out of illegibility on one side laws on the other side laws all are rules to transgress”. All are rules to transgress. In any case, once executed, the poem or drawing-poem is buried, turned into a death-mask3, another version of disappearance (some hear the cry of Purcell’s Cold Genius: Let me freeze again to death).
War is the mother of all things It is not just emptiness; the author is also assailed by “a glass sadness”, for “our tongue is covered in marks”; some are probably blemishes, “but most are scars left by fighting” (Tisana 183). This element of agony is present from the start and will remain, with unchanged fidelity, throughout AH’s whole work, reaching its emotional, rhythmic and tonal climax with Rotura, in 1977. In the “elegant, well-lighted space of
Galeria Quadrum” thirteen 1,20 × 2,20 m paper panels stood “stretched upon aluminium frames and disposed in a maze-like arrangement, under the ‘fire’ of the projectors of two film crews and of the photographers’ flashes”. At the beginning, there are sounds like cymbals in a sacrificial ceremony, as elements are torn up live. As the performance piece advances, we can feel the artist’s fury and fatigue, which incite one another, eventually creating an atmosphere of trance. Though carefully handled, the element of agony remains frightening and tremendous, even in the mind of the officiant: “When I tore the first panel, it frightened me. The tearing noise was extremely loud, making a huge din. The violence of my action was terrifying. A kind of euphoric cruelty emanated out of my ripping, lacerating gesture, which might echo a collective desire for purifying destruction. It was basically a violent attempt.” (“Autobiografia Documental”, Obra Visual 1960-1990, CAM/Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian, 1992). We are inside a unique ars poetica, whose inaugural emblem had been Poema d’Entro. In O Fim da Revolução, a small sculpture of green Plexiglas on which was glued a crumpled red cloth, punctured with carefully arranged pins, losses and disappointments, we can hear, in coagulated form, the fury of Rotura’s cymbals. Some years later, a loving desire for peace would overcome the previous precipitations and disasters; it knew various forms, such as a black enamel on cardboard from 1987, entitled Pax.
Sister pain, the barque of irony. Questions of gender Ana Hatherly never had a brother to bury4, much pain, “as if a great pain did not cancel another one” (“Falo do que é físico”, A Idade da Escrita). But,
—————— 3 My thanks to Walter Benjamin. 4 Even though at a certain time she would often invent a sister, not only in the Tisanas but also in the poem “Anamorfose da Beleza”, A Idade da Escrita, 1998.
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