“When Pentecost Day came round, they had all met together, when suddenly there came from heaven a sound as of a violent wind which filled the entire house in which they were sitting; and there appeared to them tongues as of fire; these separated and came to rest on the head of each of them. They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak different languages as the Spirit gave them power to express themselves.” Acts of the Apostles, 2, 1-5.
For Pálido Domingo, Pentecostés (Pentecost Day) means the arrival of light. In its first work, Non hai que ser unha casa para ter pantasmas (One need not be a home to be haunted) they focused on the most interior aspect of our being, “that interior – cooler Host”, in the words of Emily Dickinson.
On this occasion, they want to live once more on the border between pain and love, relationships and non-communication, the interior and external, but this time illuminating, projecting light on the flesh, on matter. Like in Rembrandt’s Anatomy Lesson, we pore over the bodies to penetrate them and examine their substance; to shed light onto what has been forgotten, rejected, segregated; to talk about beauty and beauties.