On Oct. 9, in collaboration with The Drake and the University of Massachusetts Amherst’s Fine Arts Center, artist and activist Bia Ferreira kicked off the first of a three artist-activist performance series. A Brazilian artist and founder of the Lesbitarian Church, Ferreira sang hymns of love, anti-racism and survivor technology.
Rather than starting to sing, Ferreira introduced herself and her work, welcoming the audience to the Lesbitarian Church. According to Ferreira, the church is a space for those who have been cast out or targeted by Pentecostal and Protestant churches. The name was taken from her first album “Igreja Lesbiteriana, Um Chamado,” which was released in 2019 and houses genres like funk, gospel and R&B.
A calm, meditative prayer starts off the night, with Ferreira’s voice brewing a quiet storm. “May I be an instrument of art,” she sings, her hypnotic voice flowing into the crowd, grounding them in the moment. The first song is her invocation; a prayer to harness the transformative power of art.
The crowd is captivated by her one-woman show, her talent appearing quickly in the prayer’s intricate guitar melody. Each note and word resonate within, a testament to her belief that art can change lives. Thunderous applause follows, affirming that her prayer found its faithful congregation.
The next song is titled “Paz Pro Espirito,” meaning “peace to the spirit.” With a reggae-influenced rhythm reminiscent of Brazilian reggae collective Natiruts, the music pulses vibrantly, inviting reflection. Ferreira’s voice, rich and steady, becomes an instrument of intention, delivering each word with power and purpose. It’s a song about keeping one’s peace and “blossoming” under circumstances that we are born into, a call for tranquility within our innermost selves.
“People that go online and say, ‘We fight for women’s rights!’ but when they actually see something, they do nothing,” Ferreira articulates. “Everybody knows someone like this.” Ferreira’s provocative “De Dentro do Apê,” is a song that critiques performative activism. It also encompasses metaphors for privileged people who don’t understand or have never lived through lower class struggle. As the beat picks up, Ferreira invites the crowd to sing together as a choir, contributing to her call and response. Reminiscent of Brazilian musician Ana Carolina’s intricate playing style, Ferreira’s guitar work is sharp and rhythmic, grounding the message she is trying to convey. She surprises the audience with a brief beatboxing performance, adding a raw, percussive depth that fuels the song’s urgency.
One of the oldest songs she has written, “Levante a Bandeira do Amor” is a celebration of liberty, authenticity and love. The simplicity and purity of love is deconstructed into elements that give wings to fly and courage to run without fear. “Love is a survival technology for me,” Ferreira said. “To be a Black and queer woman living in Brazil, we need to use love as a survival technology.” The crowd hangs on to her every word, enjoying Ferreira’s music and her charming personality. They resonated with the power of her message as much as her joyful presence.
Next, Ferreira eases into “Só Você Me Faz Sentir,” a soft, soulful melody tinged with influences of Caetano Veloso and Maria Gadú. Originally written for a person she fell deeply in love with, the song’s gentle rhythm holds space for both yearning and a peaceful sense of connection that resonates with family and friends. As she performs, her sincerity and enthusiasm light up the crowd, pulling everyone with her into the moment. Midway, she surprised the crowd by blending in “Easy” by the Commodores —a nostalgic nod that brought warmth and wonder, especially among the older listeners.
Later, Ferreira delivers an impromptu emotionally charged rendition of “Zé Do Caroço,” one of Brazilian samba and LGBTQ+-identifying icon Leci Brandão’s most beloved songs. It tells the story of Zé do Caroço, a local hero in the heart of his community, who uses his voice to amplify the struggles of his people in Rio De Janeiro.
“This song is about me,” Ferreira says. “I feel that this song is a little bit about me and my family; the way we were raised there.” Instead of playing, Ferreira performs the song without additional notes, making her message even more powerful. Her impactful rendition pays homage to Brandão’s message, charging the room with the spirit of resilience. Ferreira’s impactful delivery draws the audience into her narrative, making the words ripple through as a call to unity and resistance.
The second to last song she sings is “Cota Não é Esmola,” the song that propelled her to fame and is now a mandatory reading in Brazilian college entry exams. More than just a song, it’s a spoken word poem and a powerful critique of the systemic disparities Black people face, highlighting how society is set up to make them fail and yet, they persevere. Inspired by Dona Conceição Evaristo’s concept of “Escrêvivencia,” the notion of using writing and words as methods of survival and resistance especially for Black women, is also where Ferreira began to develop her concept of “love technology.” More than a song, it’s a testament to Ferreira’s incredible storytelling ability and unwavering commitment to justice.
“Oh oh oh, Sharamanayas!” sang Ferreira, calling to her church. “Sharamanayas,” the official hymn of the Lesbitarian Church, is Ferreira’s farewell to the Amherst congregation. She explains to the crowd that Sharamanayas is her philosophy: good stuff in, bad stuff out. With energy and a warm smile, she closes, “This is Black music from Brazil. I am Bia Ferreira from Brazil — thank you so much!”
Victoria Cabral-Mação can be reached at [email protected].
