Each day, a page. Each page, a moon. Each moon, Álamo.

A Few Testimonials from social media

Heaven has gained a star. Earth has lost a poet, novelist, playwright… I have lost a friend.

Although other poets say that “Death is invisibility,” that “Death is the bend in the road. Dying is just not being seen.” Even though your legacy is immense and will not allow you to fall into oblivion. Even though your words and your laughter remain in my ears and in my memory. I already miss you so much.

See you someday, Álamo! One day, after the bend in the road, we will meet again.

Judite Parreira, actress

One of the greats has left us. A friend, one of the people who influenced my life and made it more colorful, José Henrique Alamo Oliveira.

Walter Peres, actor

ÁLAMO OLIVEIRA (1945-2025)

He was a poet, essayist, novelist, short story writer, and literary critic. He ventured into the visual arts, theater, dance, and Carnaval skits, and wrote lyrics for the Sanjoaninas marches, many of which are remembered as the most festive and popular. He was a multifaceted man.

Álamo understood early on that in this world, there are “Many Perfumes and Poisons.” However, from the parish of Raminho, on the island of Terceira, he wrote and celebrated the Azores with a unique, lucid, and necessarily provocative voice. From there, he reached all the islands, the Portuguese mainland, the diaspora, and Japan—where his work has been translated—with the same naturalness and simplicity with which he welcomed us, spoke to us, and smiled at us.

Dear Álamo, the “Black Donkey with a Tear” is no longer alone. It is accompanied by the tears of those who read you, and will continue to read you, who loved you and now remember you in “Até hoje. Memórias de Cão” (Until Today. Memories of a Dog), in “Poemas Vadios” (Stray Poems), in “Contos d’América” (Tales of America) or in “Murmúrios com Vinho de Missa” (Whispers with Mass Wine).

“It is unknown that the poet went to see the sea from within

but we know who graffitied dreams

on the walls of loneliness.” (José Henrique Alamo Oliveira)

Farewell!

Adrina Batista

Knowing that someone I knew has died always leaves me with a feeling not only of loss, but also automatically takes my memory back to the moment we met.

If I got to know many people, it was because of the good times working together with Carlos and traveling around the world. Of course, time has passed and continues to pass every day, but the days of filming were ones of constant learning. Memorable.

I recently learned that the poet/writer/man from Terceira, Álamo Oliveira, had died. He was 80 years old and had been writing for over 60 years.

We were filming a documentary that recalled not only the earthquake of January 1, 1980, in Angra do Heroísmo, but also the 20th anniversary of the historic center of this loyal city being declared a World Heritage Site. With the full support of another poet, Marcolino Candeias, now in another dimension (saravá Marcolino), who guided us and opened doors, we arrived at a theater where Álamo Oliveira was rehearsing a play he had written. Then… Álamo spoke, telling us why he knew Angra, there in the courtyard of the Alfândega. An essential and special place in the city, in Terceira, in the Azores

Maria Brandão Lucas, cinematographer