TRAVEL + LIFE
The Red Dot Of Lisboa
Who is the city’s very own Henry and what he can teach us?
We were sitting at a pizza place at the railway station. The DJ played his set, occasionally interrupted by the arrival of passing trains. Not a usual location for a party, I’ll give you that, but surprisingly suitable.
The hostess brought us beers in metal cups and two pieces of square pepperoni pizza. She then got a beer for herself and sat down for a little chat.
“So, how did you find us?” she asked with a strong French accent.
“We googled,” I said. “Henry is everywhere. It was the first thing I saw when we arrived.”
It was true. The taxi dropped us at the boarding house in the middle of the night, and the only thing I saw before going up the stairs was a large graffiti on the opposite wall, stating that someone named Henry loved me for no apparent reason, decorated with a red dot.
The next day we spotted a mysterious red dot all over Lisboa. With a few exceptions, such as telling us that “life is good,” dots were followed by the same question — who the fuck is Henry.
After seeing it for the fifth or fifteenth time, it was finally time for google to unveil the mystery. A little research and I found out Henry is an anonymous artist running a collective of creatives. It’s an art family, revolving around the very same red dot, tagging streets, hosting parties, showcasing their artworks.
One of their spots caught our attention on Instagram, leading Helen and me to the Santos Train Station. What we found was a regular operational railway station with a pizza place and a DJ table.
“So that’s how we ended up here,” I said, taking a sip. The hostess stood up.
“Just a second”. She went to the back of the pizza place and returned with some stickers. “That’s all I have left, not much, but something. A gift.”
“Thanks ever so much, that’s amazing,” I took them with a smile on my face. I must admit I was going to buy a T-shirt with Henry’s signature question, but they were out of stock. So the stickers were the second-best thing. I then presented her with my own sticker — a yellow hand (old tag). To my surprise, she immediately put it on a steel flowerbed that appeared more like a piece of modern art.
In fact, the whole Santos Train Station looked like a collection of artworks. Some places truly are galleries. We just don’t have to pay at the entrance and keep respectful silence.
I noticed a picture printed and taped to a wall behind the DJ. Although I don’t know Portuguese, my Spanish helped me to get the first line: “Volta Pra Tua Terra” — Get back to your land. But the second line was beyond my comprehension.
“What does it mean?” I finally asked the hostess, giving up on any attempts to crack the code.
“Same thing that the first line means, but, you know, mocking it. Voltipratuiturri. Git bik toyur lend. It’s a meme,” she said. I felt incredibly dull-witted. A giant ape with cymbals started bashing them together in my head.
“It’s about the hate,” she said. Her face turned a little serious. The ape stopped.
“Hate?”
“Yes. You see, this is a Brazilian place,” she continued. “And a lot of people from Brazil come here. But in Portugal, some people hate Brazilians. And that’s what we don’t tolerate here. That’s why the meme.”
That brought me back to reality a little. I remembered the reason I always considered street art to be the “art of the edges”. Because it responds to a problem, in a way that little artworks can — by bringing it up before everyone’s eyes. That’s why “Henry loves you,” I thought. Hate is not to be tolerated.
Although Henry is far from Banksy in terms of fighting social injustice, he is still capable of highlighting modern-day issues. These are the times we live in. From chaos art is born. As Henry’s own website goes:
My Grand mother used to say:
“Chaotic times are fertile times for creatives.”
She was a Pirate.
But what I found most appealing about Henry and his artworks is the love he holds for the city. He’s present everywhere you go: on abandoned trucks, under bridges, on construction sites. Even though we spent only a week in Lisboa, it was enough to get the feeling of an unseen city spirit wandering around during the night.
If there’s any advice I can give you in your travels, it would be to look out for the local street art groups. Search for them, find them. If you’re lucky, you’re in for an unforgettable conversation with people who know the city you’re visiting as their own backyard.
They don’t put that on maps.
Visit Henry’s gallery here.
