António Olaio

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António Olaio, born in 1963, Sá da Bandeira, Angola. Lives in Coimbra. Professor  of the Architecture Department of the University of Coimbra. He finished his PhD in 2000 (“The field of art according to Marcel Duchamp”). Director of Colégio das Artes from 2013 to 2023. His performances led him to music. He was one of the founders of the rock group “Repórter Estrábico” in 1986 and, since 1995, the songs he makes with the collaboration of many different musicians. are frequently presented in his videos and exhibitions.

António Olaio, nasceu em 1963, em Sá da Bandeira, Angola e vive em Coimbra. Professor no Departamento de Arquitectura da Faculdade de Ciências e Tecnologia da Universidade de Coimbra, tendo apresentado, em 2000, dissertação de doutoramento, construída a partir da obra de Marcel Duchamp. Director do Colégio das Artes entre 2013 e 2023. As suas performances levaram-no à música, tendo sido fundador do grupo Repórter Estrábico em 1986, e, desde 1995, as canções com muitas e diversas colaborações  integram frequentemente os seus vídeos e exposições.


When working with António and Richard Strange on their debut play When You Awake You Will Remember Nothing. António asked if I could record him some drums that he could write some poetry to. The result was a piece called when A Fly and a Bee.

“Dear Andy, I’ve made this with the last drums you’ve sent…This time I just made a poem and said it, as tough telling a story.I hope it doesn’t sound pretentious…With the next drums I promise to try to make a song…All the best, António”

A fly and a bee
Were looking at me
They came from the sky to stare at each eye

How good you look said the bee
How good you look said the fly
Better than yesterday said the bee
Better than yesterday said the fly

See you later, they said
As they flew away ,
Just as far as they should
To come back just in time to meet me at nine

A fly and a bee
Were looking through me
Through the houses and trees
They saw other bees
Through the mountains and sky
They saw other flies
Looking at nothing
For nothing more was there to see