Is passion, is passion.... Pedro is passion. We could talk for days about him, of the things that he could have thought or seen, but nothing would be able to explain the questions that are linked to him. Only passion can.
Pedro created Madredeus, sustained it, fed it of dreams and fantasies, giving to it the legs of Music and the voice of Poetry. Like Atlas, he sustained the Madredeus' world with the courageous confidence of a steersman.

But why?
But I ask you why there must be a reason?

Madredeus is this: beauty without a reason, harmony without an explanation. Madredeus is a flower that blooms: nobody knows why it happens. Only passion can explain that. Only passion can explain the reason why a flower blooms. And I see in this passion the ancient characteristics of passions that are lost in the past, those passions for the unknown, which bring us elsewhere, where we don't know. These are passions that explains us the reasons of the voyage, of the peregrination, of the initiation to the unknown, that have always been part of the human being. And Pedro traveled, in reality and fantasy, in music and poetry, and like every sailor, exploring what is outside, he unveiled what is inside, in the soul, and knowing other peoples he understood his own, tracing its identity
Pedro talked about the soul, maybe of his own, of mine for sure. He covered it with the golden clothes of poetry but making it walk on the earthly paths of the feeling, of the sorrow, of saudade.
And the image that he gives us about the soul is infact that of a soul which loves, which beats synchronous to the heart, which is slave of the heart and which sings or screams in its joys or in its tears. As if he wanted to say us that the soul is love but not viceversa.

Pedro talked about a people, about the peoples, about Portugal, about the entire world. In his artistic peregrination he traced, like an Argonaut, the Golden Fleece of human identity unveiling and revealing its simplicity, its greatness, its beauty: three adjectives that toghether identifies the Feeling. In it, and in particular in Saudade, he saw the distinctive sign of a land, of an history, of a people that with its traveling left an indelible fingerprint in the soul of every people.

We could now talk easily for hours of his music, of his poetry and from all this words we would obtain only a mountain of questions and doubts. So, I encourage you firmly not to think about his music and poetry with the analytical instict that would bring you far away, but only open your heart, that heart that since we were child everybody teach us to keep close, and let music and poetry explain for themselves. About him you only need to know that is passion, is passion... Pedro is passion


from the site Madredeus - O Porto -