Article
The Third "F" - Part II: The Art of Longing
Author: Edward Porper
Manmade wonders are usually conceived by individuals. A genius painter or composer, a visionary scientist or statesman, a selfless missionary, or a passionate philanthropist realize that they have something to contribute to the world - and either do it themselves from start to finish or rely on some outside help to get it done. The story of E.Neville Isdell, the founder of EPIC in Dublin, could serve as one of numerous examples illustrating this point. Occasionally, it takes a community or an executive decision to lay out a neighbourhood in a particularly unconventional way or to turn a pedestrian street into a mini open-air museum. Portuguese "fado" tells a completely different story: turning a spontaneous expression of individually experienced grief into a calling card of a whole nation is an almost unparalleled accomplishment (similar genres, such as Capo Verdean Morna, Brazilian Modinha, Spanish Flamenco, and Argentinian Tango, are either heavily influenced by Fado, or they address a different range of emotions). Lisbon's Fado Museum (in the cover picture) unravels the transformation of a raw basic emotion into the art of longing.
The building itself is full of symbolism. To start with, it's located in Lisbon's Alfama district - the very birthplace of fado. A former water pumping station and a typical example of industrial architecture, the repurposed structure looks refined and stylish notwithstanding. The interior continues the trend: packed with exhibits, it allows for elegant nooks like this

Elegance goes hand in hand with a hands-on approach. Even though the turntable and the disks in the above picture are decorative, there is an electronic playlist of famous fado performances. Visitors are encouraged to settle on one of the comfortable couches dotting the area, put on an attached pair of headphones and savour the experience. One would usually stay for 10-15 minutes to listen to 3-4 songs but, theoretically, nothing prevents a meloman from browsing the playlist for a whole afternoon (in particular, a rainy one). The area is roomy and likely never crowded - as are most physical spaces inside the museum but unlike the exhibition itself.
The best word to describe the exhibits is, probably, "intensity". Strong emotions
expressive mis-en-scenes
and even sheer numbers of musicians

create an immediate sense of involvement that increases as the exhibition becomes more personal and focuses on the stars of the genre - both in pictures and screenshots


The sense of involvement - and ultimately, belonging - is crucial for fado, and it's Portuguese language that helps to understand just how crucial.
Every language has words for creators and their target audience: writers and readers, musicians and listeners, actors and moviegoers/theatre buffs .. The Portuguese word for fado musicians is "fadista", and the word for those who listen to fado music is...exactly the same! It's next to impossible to overestimate the significance of that sameness. An immaterial concept - a word - connects the two groups like no bridge of steel and concrete would, and merges them into one. And that's the hidden in plain sight secret of the fado phenomenon: however talented creators might be, they are always a relatively small minority in every nation. When listeners become as significant to the process as singers are, and the distinction between them disappears, a small stream turns into a mighty flood of beautiful music sweeping the land and beyond.