{"id":1931,"date":"2020-12-01T13:13:35","date_gmt":"2020-12-01T12:13:35","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/?p=1931"},"modified":"2022-06-07T22:47:24","modified_gmt":"2022-06-07T21:47:24","slug":"this-machine-kills-portuguese-fascists-hoe-fado-bicha-een-muzikale-traditie-herschrijft","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/2020\/12\/01\/this-machine-kills-portuguese-fascists-hoe-fado-bicha-een-muzikale-traditie-herschrijft\/","title":{"rendered":"This Machine Kills Portuguese Fascists: how Fado Bicha are rewriting the rules of musical tradition"},"content":{"rendered":"<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><strong><strong>Jo\u00e3o Ca\u00e7ador and Lila Fadista met in Lisbon through their mutual love of fado. Initially, the rigid conventions of the traditional music genre didn\u2019t seem to match their queer identities, but, together, they found a way to make it theirs. Now, they discuss defying conservatism, representing a silent legacy and fighting back the resurgence of the extreme-right in a country on the eve of a presidential election.<\/strong>&nbsp;<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph translation-block\"><strong>Written by: <\/strong>Beatriz Negreiros<br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph translation-block\">February 2019. There was a tension in the Lisbon air that winter. The stress was, to be precise, of a social and political nature, and had to do with what has since become one of the most pressing taboos of Portuguese society \u2013 racism. Four years prior, seventeen policemen had been accused of torturing six young black men in the Alfragide police station, in what many saw as an episode of racially motivated police brutality. The case, now in trial, was all over the news. Mamadou Ba, the leader of the anti-racism organization SOS Racismo, expressed his concerns about the lack of conversations the country (whose colonial rule lasted until the seventies) was willing to have about race. He was met with criticism and even threats. To make matters worse, at the beginning of the year, television presenter Manuel Lu\u00eds Goucha invited the leader of the neo-fascist movement Nova Ordem Social, M\u00e1rio Machado, to <em>Voc\u00ea Na TV<\/em>, one of the most watched day-time talk-shows in Portugal. M\u00e1rio Machado\u2019s criminal record is extensive, and perhaps more notably, includes four years spent in prison due to his involvement in the murder of Alcindo Monteiro, a 27-year-old black man, in 1995. Just short of 25 years later, many felt Monteiro\u2019s legacy had already been erased from the public conscience, as one of his killers comfortably sat in front of an audience of millions talking about his \u201ccontroversial ideals.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph translation-block\">\u201cAll of this left us very disturbed,\u201d recalls Lila Fadista\u2019s voice on the phone from the capital. Fadista makes up one half of the duo Fado Bicha, singing and writing the band\u2019s lyrics; Jo\u00e3o Ca\u00e7ador accompaignes her on guitar. Together, as the first part of their band name showcases, they play fado \u2013 one of Portugal\u2019s most recognizable music traditions, in which a wailing singer is joined by a melancholic guitarist on songs about fate and longing. However, as the second part of their name clarifies, they do so while expressing their queer identities and experiences to the fullest (in Portuguese, \u2018bicha\u2019 is a homophobic slur, which, just like the word \u2018queer\u2019, has since been reclaimed by the LGBTQ community). It\u2019s something quite unheard of in a country whose 46-year-old democracy still feels the effects of the conservative, authoritarian regime that was in place for a large part of the twentieth century \u2013 and of which fado was very much a part.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">In February 2019, Fado Bicha, who call themselves both activists and musicians, decided to air their frustrations with a nation of people who seemingly refused to discuss racial injustice. Fadista and Ca\u00e7ador took \u2018Lisboa, N\u00e3o Sejas Francesa\u2019 (\u2018Lisbon, Don\u2019t Be French\u2019) by Am\u00e1lia Rodrigues \u2013 arguably the most famous fado singer in the world \u2013 and turned her critique of Lisbon\u2019s submittal to the foreign to a commentary on its refusal to address its racist past and present. \u201cI\u2019ve always wanted to do something with that song\u201d, Fadista remembers. \u201cIt had this potential of serving both as a fado and a protest song, by saying \u2018Lisbon, Don\u2019t Be\u2026\u2019 There are so many things Lisbon shouldn\u2019t be. Racist being one of them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/kBk5Q4tpYTM\" title=\"YouTube video player\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph translation-block\">In the video, Ca\u00e7ador aggressively straddles the electric guitar while Fadista sings in an emotional fashion, her voice wavering as is custom in the fado tradition, as she delves into everything from the racist threats addressed to Mamadou Ba to M\u00e1rio Machado\u2019s television appearance. \u2018Lisboa, N\u00e3o Sejas Racista\u2019 has since amassed nearly a hundred thousand views, and the multinational comment section foreshadows the success Fado Bicha have gotten to experience both in Portugal and abroad since. Besides having performed all around the country, they\u2019ve also been touring all around the world \u2013 Spain, France, Brazil and Iceland, just to name a few. But how did two queer musicians manage to break into the seeminglyold-fashioned, conservative world of fado? And, perhaps more importantly, why?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<blockquote class=\"wp-block-quote is-layout-flow wp-block-quote-is-layout-flow\"><p><strong>\u201cI knew I had to create my own space within the fado universe\u201d<\/strong><\/p><cite>Lila Fadista<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Despite its common association with conversative values and the right-wing dictatorship, which made it one of its cultural emblems (along with football and religion), fado was first the language of the marginalized \u2013 something that Fado Bicha are trying to recover by placing their queer identities and experiences at the center of their art. In its earliest documented form, fado can be traced back to 19th century Lisbon neighborhoods such as Alfama and Mouraria, where it was sung and played by social outcasts such as prostitutes, sailors, and dock workers. The dictatorship of Ant\u00f3nio de Oliveira Salazar, however, took the music from its humble origins and placed it in the forefront of the regime\u2019s identity; Am\u00e1lia Rodrigues became a national symbol, as Portuguese as the flag.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Although fado\u2019s exact origins are still widely disputed, scholars of the genre such as Rui Vieira Nery agree it\u2019s very likely to have originated from the cultural and ethnic melting pot brewing in the Lisbon docks. The dictatorship made it uniquely Portuguese; a source of the same ultra-nationalistic pride which led M\u00e1rio Machado and others to kill Alcindo Monteiro in the very same place fado was born.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/VGgIlLfVEmQ\" title=\"YouTube video player\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph translation-block\">\u201cWhen we were growing up, in the late nineties, early 2000s, fado wasn\u2019t very popular among the younger generations\u201d, recalls Ca\u00e7ador. \u201cI first got introduced to it in my university\u2019s tuna (a music group made up of university students, ed.), in which the repertoire was mostly Am\u00e1lia songs. That\u2019s when her poetry \u2013 not just what she sang, but how she sang it \u2013 started resonating with me.\u201d A few years later, a fado singer friend began taking Ca\u00e7ador to fado houses around the capital, where the young musician was stunned by the proximity between the performers and the public. \u201cIn a fado house, sometimes you\u2019ll have someone who has never sung in their life, but really enjoys a fado and knows it by heart, stand up and join the singer. You would never have that in another concert setting. Imagine watching Radiohead and someone suddenly jumping on stage to sing \u2018Creep\u2019. That would never happen\u201d he cackles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Ca\u00e7adors fascination gave way to disappointment when he first clashed with the genre\u2019s strict conventions: \u201cI couldn\u2019t sing certain fados, because they were meant for women, I had to play guitar under a very rigid set of rules\u2026 I couldn\u2019t do anything of my own.\u201d It was upon discovering Lila Fadista, another queer artist trying to find her place in fado, through a Facebook video, that he felt motivated to continue doing so himself. They began playing together, and have been ever since.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">For Fadista, her relationship with the genre hit similar strides, from her discovery of fado singers as a teenager to her full-fledged transformation into one as an adult. \u201cMy relationship with fado is very different from Jo\u00e3o\u2019s, as I\u2019m not a musician, neither have I ever felt a very strong connection to the fado houses and the fado world in general. It felt like an inaccessible universe to me\u2026\u201d she says.\n\nLike Ca\u00e7ador, her introduction was made through Am\u00e1lia Rodrigues\u2019 siren voice. \u201cI started connecting to what she sang, and relating it to my own lived experiences\u201d. Naturally, Fadista felt a strong desire to sing these songs herself \u2013 however, upon attempting to enter that world through formal means (fado school, fado houses) she discovered that she didn\u2019t feel welcome in it. \u201cI knew I had to create my space within the fado universe\u201d, she recalls, defiant. And so she did. And, soon enough, Ca\u00e7ador joined her, and Fado Bicha was born.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<blockquote class=\"wp-block-quote is-layout-flow wp-block-quote-is-layout-flow\"><p><strong>\u201cWe\u2019re just telling our stories\u201d<\/strong><\/p><cite>Jo\u00e3o Ca\u00e7ador<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">According to Fadista and Ca\u00e7ador, the act of singing and playing fado as a queer person is deeper than just being subversive. They take turns speaking on the complicated politics of not just creating art as queer people, but creating art as queer people within a historically conservative, hetero-exclusive musical lore. They pick their words carefully, and speak with the precision and the clarity of two academics.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">\u201cWe\u2019re not necessarily subversive by nature\u201d, begins Fadista. \u201cWhat we do isn\u2019t necessarily subversive either. It becomes subversive in the moment it clashes with a larger societal structure which rejects us upfront.\u201d It is important to note that, up until 1982, homosexuality was illegal in Portugal. Throughout the country\u2019s history, gay and lesbian mainstream icons are few and far between; transgender and non-binary are practically non-existent. \u201cWe become subversive because, after all this, we\u2019ve managed to gather the strength and the resources to exist freely\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">According to the singer, there is much confusion between tradition and normativity; it is not because of the tradition of fado that queer people are usually not seen as obvious participants in it. It is rather due to the colossal way society\u2019s \u2013 and, especially, Portuguese society\u2019s \u2013 heteronormativity pulverized queer people\u2019s existence in popular culture, save for a few select examples. \u201cThese identities and experiences have existed since the dawn of time\u201d, she explains. \u201cSurely, there have been LGBTQ people involved in creating, composing and performing fado from the very start. But they weren\u2019t able to tell their stories. Maybe there was a queer person who once sang a fado about being a queer person in Mouraria in 1845. But we\u2019ll never know.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph translation-block\">For Ca\u00e7ador, the political dimension exists, but in hundreds of years of forbidding queer stories to exist within the canon, rather than in him and Fadista claiming this patrimony as a vehicle of artistic expression. \u201cWe\u2019re just telling our stories,\u201d he says. \u201cIf we were telling someone else\u2019s stories, then it would be political\u201d.\n\n\u201cThis is where we believe Fado Bicha comes into play\u201d, concludes Fadista. \u201cNot only to reflect this lack of representation of queer stories in the history of fado, but to be able to sing \u2018Lila Fadista, your beautiful story our memory will keep\u2019 (on the song \u2018Lila Fadista\u2019, ed.). To sing this is to build an optimistic history. We\u2019re not there yet. But we will make sure that we will. We will include ourselves in this tradition, which has always been ours as well\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/EflCgsoX9iw\" title=\"YouTube video player\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n\n<blockquote class=\"wp-block-quote is-layout-flow wp-block-quote-is-layout-flow\"><p><strong>\u201cWith everything going on around us, it would feel strange to sing love songs\u201d<\/strong><\/p><cite>Lila Fadista<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">If in February 2019 the Portuguese extreme-right was a quiet but growing stream bubbling beneath the surface of the country\u2019s political conversation, it has now taken over the mainstream like a tidal wave. Last year, a new party entered the government \u2013 Chega. The party\u2019s populist rhetoric filled programme was as gruesome to some as it was appealing to others; among other things, it proposed a revision of the constitution currently in place, making it so that pedophiles would be sentenced to chemical castration and making same-sex marriage, which was made legal in Portugal in 2010, illegal once again. More recently, a motion was presented in one of their most recent congresses calling for the removal of the ovaries of women who chose to abort. The party\u2019s ferocious leader, Andr\u00e9 Ventura, has managed to make headlines every time he\u2019s spoken in parliament since his election in mid-2019 \u2013 from when he told black deputy Joacine Katar Moreira to \u201cgo back to her country\u201d, to when he proposed a confinement plan specific to the Roma community at the head of the COVID-19 pandemic. Now, he plans to take the presidential seat (or at least, try to) in the upcoming presidential election, which is set to take place in early 2021.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph translation-block\">And if in February 2019 racial tension was palpable in the Lisbon air, in 2020 it is insufferable and to some, deadly, as Bruno Marques Cand\u00e9\u2019s murder this summer proves. The 39-year-old black actor was fatally shot after being told by his killer to \u201cgo back to his country\u201d. It reminded people once again of Alcindo Monteiro\u2019s death, and his murderer\u2019s utterances bore a chilling resemblance to the words Ventura told Katar Moreira earlier this year.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph translation-block\">Music has always played an important role in political activism in Portugal \u2013 it was a song, Paulo de Carvalho\u2019s \u2018E Depois Do Adeus\u2019, that cued the military coup which restored democracy in the country, in 1974. The revolution was sung by voices like those of Zeca Afonso, S\u00e9rgio Godinho and Z\u00e9 M\u00e1rio Branco, which have since become an integral part of the liberation movement in the public consciousness. But whose revolution was it? Its ambassadors, at least on the musical side of things, were predominantly, if not exclusively, straight white men. At the time, colonel Galv\u00e3o de Melo infamously declared that \u201cthe revolution was not made for prostitutes and homosexuals\u201d. Now, Fado Bicha have replied in their \u2018Marcha do Orgulho\u2019 lyric video \u2013 \u2018honey, we are the revolution\u2019. Forty-six years later, Fadista and Ca\u00e7ador are reclaiming the Portuguese tradition of protesting through song and branching out its subject matter \u2013 tackling topics related not only to the LGBTQ strife, but also xenophobia, gender equality, animal rights and, of course, racism.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n<p><iframe loading=\"lazy\" width=\"560\" height=\"315\" src=\"https:\/\/www.youtube.com\/embed\/mCkPxNk5N50\" title=\"YouTube video player\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture\" allowfullscreen><\/iframe><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\"><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">When asked whether they feel their artistic peers should feel obligated to tackle similar issues in their work, given the current political and social climate, the reply seems to be a resounding \u201cno\u201d \u2013 \u201cno one should be obliged to sing about anything\u201d \u2013 with some \u201cbuts\u201d in between. \u201cI would really like to see artists, especially in the mainstream, creating politically engaged art. I think it\u2019s a sign of democratic maturity\u201d, says Fadista. Ca\u00e7ador adds: \u201cMusic, much like humour, isn\u2019t created in a vacuum. There is an expectation to engage with the real world.\u201d Fadista: \u201cI feel that with everything going on around us, it would feel strange to sing love songs. Don\u2019t get me wrong \u2013 I adore love songs! But it\u2019s not what I want to do.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"wp-block-paragraph\">Over the phone, she, like Ca\u00e7ador, sounds deeply concerned with the state of things. But she also sounds strong; there is a streak of insubordination cracking under the pristine, well-spoken surface. Much like the way Am\u00e1lia sounded. Maybe this is what fado was all about, all along.&nbsp;<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Jo\u00e3o Ca\u00e7ador en Lila Fadista ontmoetten elkaar in Lissabon vanuit een wederzijdse liefde voor fado. Aanvankelijk lijken de strenge regels van het traditionele muziekgenre niet te passen bij hun queer zijn, maar samen vinden ze toch een manier om die traditie toe te eigenen. Met Front bespreekt het duo hoe ze conservatisme trotseren, een stille geschiedenis een stem geven en ten strijde trekken tegen de terugkeer van extreemrechts aan de vooravond van de Portugese presidentsverkiezingen. <\/p>","protected":false},"author":157646916,"featured_media":1928,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_coblocks_attr":"","_coblocks_dimensions":"","_coblocks_responsive_height":"","_coblocks_accordion_ie_support":"","_crdt_document":"","_uag_custom_page_level_css":"","advanced_seo_description":"","jetpack_seo_html_title":"","jetpack_seo_noindex":false,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[],"tags":[604076602,11788,245557,2620],"class_list":["post-1931","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","tag-fado-bicha","tag-interview","tag-lissabon","tag-portugal"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg","uagb_featured_image_src":{"full":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",1200,800,false],"thumbnail":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",150,100,false],"medium":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",300,200,false],"medium_large":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",768,512,false],"large":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",1024,683,false],"1536x1536":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",1200,800,false],"2048x2048":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",1200,800,false],"trp-custom-language-flag":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",18,12,false],"newspack-article-block-landscape-large":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",1200,800,false],"newspack-article-block-portrait-large":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",900,600,false],"newspack-article-block-square-large":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",1200,800,false],"newspack-article-block-landscape-medium":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",800,533,false],"newspack-article-block-portrait-medium":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",600,400,false],"newspack-article-block-square-medium":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",800,533,false],"newspack-article-block-landscape-intermediate":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",600,400,false],"newspack-article-block-portrait-intermediate":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",450,300,false],"newspack-article-block-square-intermediate":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",600,400,false],"newspack-article-block-landscape-small":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",400,267,false],"newspack-article-block-portrait-small":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",300,200,false],"newspack-article-block-square-small":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",400,267,false],"newspack-article-block-landscape-tiny":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",200,133,false],"newspack-article-block-portrait-tiny":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",150,100,false],"newspack-article-block-square-tiny":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",200,133,false],"newspack-article-block-uncropped":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",1200,800,false],"yaffo-small-square":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",90,60,false],"yaffo-grid":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",580,387,false],"yaffo-square":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",580,387,false],"yaffo-medium":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",830,553,false],"yaffo-content-width":["https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/11\/fado-bicha.jpg",1200,800,false]},"uagb_author_info":{"display_name":"beatriznegreiros","author_link":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/author\/beatriznegreiros\/"},"uagb_comment_info":0,"uagb_excerpt":"Jo\u00e3o Ca\u00e7ador en Lila Fadista ontmoetten elkaar in Lissabon vanuit een wederzijdse liefde voor fado. Aanvankelijk lijken de strenge regels van het traditionele muziekgenre niet te passen bij hun queer zijn, maar samen vinden ze toch een manier om die traditie toe te eigenen. Met Front bespreekt het duo hoe ze conservatisme trotseren, een stille&hellip;","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pay7cI-v9","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1931","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/157646916"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1931"}],"version-history":[{"count":12,"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1931\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3130,"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1931\/revisions\/3130"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1928"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1931"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1931"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/fr-nt.nl\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1931"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}