“Writing about music is like dancing about architecture, it’s stupid to try,” Elvis Costello is said to have said. Marcelo Pisarro refutes that.
Precise, erudite, funny, subtle, he takes us from Stalinist Russia to a record store in La Paz, from the United States to Luna Park, from Bob Dylan to Taylor Swift, from Bach to the carnavalito. Pisarro takes us on a journey through new and old songs, through this and other eras.
He invites us to consider how reality and identities have been constructed.
Architectures upon which we dance.







