Girinos are tadpoles. Tadpoles are very simple creatures. They simply are. Swim, feed and grow. Move, absorb and morph. To be a tadpole is to exist in a plane of constant change, where transformability seems to be the ontological status of the body. Tadpoles many times find themselves in precarious nests, drying pools, or in the presence of predators. Their vulnerability is inscribed on the smalls bodies, but they survive as multitude, being always plenty, always multiple, and yet carrying their singularities. Girinos for me are togetherness embodied, flowing in perpetual movement, sharing an inherent and unknown metamorphosis, that will hopefully take them somewhere. Girinos are multiplicity, and we are Girino. Muito prazer.



Thinking of tadpoles is rendering a sense of we, of us, and of what we write as simply what we are. Tadpole writing is a simple as the creatures we are, it exists in the floating movements, in the deterritorialization gestures, in the openness to become something else, or in the acknowledgement that we a re constantly becoming. We are plenty, and as THEY* said, two of us is already a crowd. A writing conceived in tadpole gatherings does not try to establish truth on any subject, or even about themselves. Even this writing can only be an inquiry, a proposition, a suggestion, a destabilizing force wherein thought might take form and consistency, but only for a fraction of time: soon its legs will appear, tails we be gone, and it will hop someplace else, maybe unaware of its own transformability. Being many, we hardly can propose something as an autobiography. First of all, we do not have a single life to be biographed, neither a main story we should tell. We are always there, some grow, some die, but by then many others have come. What we might have are the graphies, the writings, or merely the scribbles, of our biological bodies imprinted on this word, constantly stamping an ontological transformability: a growing that turns being into becoming, and the traces of this shape-shifting. There can hardly be a notion of “auto”. What is self-writing, or writing about self, when there is no particular thinking entity to center thought and trace the history of a particular, represented subject? A tadpole writing destabilizes notions of authorship, and abolishes the very sense that we are separate from whatever we write. For us, tadpoles, every writing is autobiographical, and to write is to flap around in page, breathlessly moving on the dry surface to imprint mucous trails and water stains, to scream, here are our bodies.



This writing that actualizes a de-individualized self as it renders words, harnesses the impossibility of certainty, the impending contradiction, the gray areas, the zones of negotiation. Tadpoles are volatile bodies, yet to be codified, and we deserve an equally engaged methodology of thought. The writing we propose claims its own delirium, tunes itself to ghostly presences, aesthetic experiences, the alucinations that dissociate ego, the dreams we wake up from every morning, of being other than human. Tadpoles claim our own molecular potency of action, of corporeal transformation, in a movement that appropriates language and dissolves the necessity of meaning and conveying information. Writing here acts rather as another extension of our bodies, as another indeterminate limb that grows and takes shape, deploying singularity in its processes. Writing folds itself as an unfolding of the bodies, fissuring tissue and swimming away and around. It incarnates in the ever-developing body’s actualization of becomings: becoming frog, toad, salamander, or simply: becoming other. These writings thrive in the power of speculation, of what our bodies can be, and what they become.



Haraway says somewhere that we are all liquens, that we are always a heterogeneous ontologic composition. We are constantly affecting each others, animals in a pack; that agglomerate through some force, some immanent potency that takes them further, as liquens or tadpoles. Not through language and representation but energies, connections, dispersions, gestures, screams. A pack, or a pool without a face is a communion power cannot handle, and that discourse can barely grasp. To think of us is an onto-epistemological activity towards ourselves. It involves being plenty. It involves the crisis resulting of the impossibility of completely leaving individuality, the unified vision of a body, and the danger of doing so.



Lucas Girino (aka Lua) is a Brazilian video & movement artist and scholar based in Brooklyn. Their work happens amidst performance art, expanded cinema, contemporary dance, independent documentaries and undocumented phenomena. They are drawn to unusual spaces, prehensive performances, precarious consistencies, abyssal subjectivities, gender transgression, micropolitical glitches, insistent choreographies and general delinquency.


contact // girino@nyu.edu
c.v. // scroll down



image: Dandelions (work in progress, photo by Niyoosha Ahmadikoo)



academic background

Ph.D. in Performance Studies — 2018, ongoing
Tisch School of the Arts, New York University

M.A. in Performance Studies — 2017
Tisch School of the Arts, New York University

EMERGENYC Artist Residency — 2017
Hemispheric Institute of Performance and Politics

B.A. in Cinema and Audiovisual — 2012-16
Universidade Federal do Ceará, UFC, Brazil

“Trajetos em Cena” Dance Residency — 2015
International Dance Biennial of Ceará, Brazil.


related experience

2018
Hemispheric Institute's Digital Video Archive

2016-2017
Graduate Assistant to Karen Finley
Art and Public Policy, NYU


2012-2013
Fellowship at LEEA (Laboratory of Studies and Experimentation in Audiovisual)
Universidade Federal do Ceará (UFC)


academic presentations
“Choreographies of Disencounter: Friendship in Exile 
II Seminário Internacional Trans-In-Corporados. UFRJ & Rio Art Museum. Rio de Janeiro,
Brazil, 2017
“Exilic Intersects: Friendship in Flight” The Between: Couple Forms, Performing Together. Women & Performance
and Performance Studies/NYU, 2018.
“Transgender Youth at the End of the World”

Borderlands, UCONN, 2018.
“My name is Leona: Para-ontological choreographies of transgender youth” 
I Seminário Internacional Trans-In-Corporados. UFRJ & Rio Art Museum. Rio de Janeiro,
Brazil, 2017
“Transgender youth at the end of the world”
5th Convergence, Unsettling the Americas: Radical Hospitalities and Intimate Geographies
Hemispheric Institute & York University, Toronto, Canada, 2017.
“O sexo ciborgue” (El sexo ciborgue)II Encuentro Latinoamericano de Investigadores sobre el Cuerpo y
Corporalidades en las Culturas. Bogotá, Colombia. 2015
“Notas acerta do sexo cibernético” (Notes on cybernetic sex)
I Colóquio Multidões Queer. Fortaleza, Brazil. 2015.
“O sexo do ciborgue” (The cyborg sex)II Semana Entrepalavras. Fortaleza, Brazil. 2015.

installation and curating Night of the Full Moon, curated with Karen Finley, Pamella Jean Tinnen. Kimmel Center, NYU, 2016
Jonas Mekas: o cinema está entre os fotogramas, untitled (2013), collective exhibition. MAUC/UFC, 2015
Imaginários da sexualidade digital
Instituto de Cultura e Arte, UFC, 2014
Umbilical
Exposição coletiva de finalização do curso Corpo e Audiovisual, BNB, 2014


dance
a folded message so the ground can talk (2017) Disposed to Add (Collaboration with Jes Fan and Troizel Carr, 2017)
RESISTANCE (Choreographed by Rosane Chamecki and Andrea Lerner, 2017)
Swamp (2017)
Os Vivos (The Living, 2016)
Até o mundo sumir (Until the world vanishes, 2015)
Pulmão (Lungs, 2015)


film
So Pretty (dir. Jessie Jeffrey Dunn Rovinelli) Dance, Dance, Evolution (dir. Jules Rosskam) http://www.julesrosskam.com/dance-dance-evolution/
A fera do clima (Climate Beast), 2016
A cidade dos chacais (Jackal's City), 2015

Bairro dos cupins (The Termite Borough), 2015
138, 2015
Vou lá porque você não está (I go there because you aren't), 2014
sem título (untitled), 2013

photography
Goldie Luxe, 2017 (available at goldieluxe.com)
Vazios (Empties), 2014
Litoraneidades (Seaside becomings), 2013-2015
Distância Indentitária (Displacement), 2013
SOCIALIMENTAÇÃO (SOCIALIMENTATION), 2012

movie stills
O homem que virou armário (Marcelo Ikeda, 2015)
O pensamento tornado visível (Lohayne Lima, 2013)