Some of Lisbon’s most memorable moments happened after dark. At the Carmo Convent, a Gothic church left roofless by the 1755 earthquake, the ruins themselves became the screen for ‘Lisbon Under Stars’, an immersive show by the studio OCUBO that projected more than 600 years of the city’s history onto the surviving walls and arches.
The show is no longer running, so this post is now a record of what it was like, kept in case OCUBO or a similar projection show returns to the ruins. The convent is already an astonishing place, but when the sun set on a show night, it underwent a phenomenal transformation. More than 30,000 people came to see the award-winning show in 2018. A year later, with the run extended into mid-July, about 50,000 did, and by 2024 it had drawn well over 170,000 visitors.
I was lucky enough to see it while travelling in Lisbon, and I was blown away by the performance and by the technical ingenuity it took to bring the whole piece together. If you love art, history and architecture, here is what it was like.
What Was ‘Lisbon Under Stars’?
Lisbon Under Stars was described by its creators, the studio OCUBO and the Carmo Archaeological Museum, as an “immersive and multidisciplinary spectacle” that told the story of Lisbon’s history through a mesmerizing visual performance. The entire show took place inside the ruins of the Carmo Convent. But it didn’t just happen inside the ruins; it was actually projected onto them! The multimedia projections were cast onto the remains of the convent walls and arches, covering them like a painting, but one that moved and bent and turned the space from a two-dimensional surface into a three-dimensional trip back in time.
The 600 years of history steeped in the city of Lisbon were brought to life through these projections and told through the eyes of the convent itself. The convent was given a personality and embodied by a single female dancer. All the dancers were filmed, and their performances were woven into the multimedia projections. The dancers’ expressions and movements, set against powerful historical events, conveyed to the audience, wordlessly, the feelings and emotions the city was thrown into during those times. The visuals helped us see through her eyes what it must have looked like to be here in Lisbon then. Parts of the show were narrated by Portuguese presenter Catarina Furtado, in Portuguese and English, but the images were so compelling that words were almost unnecessary.
Choreographers Catarina Casqueiro and Tiago Coelho
In the edition I saw, the dancers came from Clara Andermatt’s company and the National Ballet Company, with choreography by Andermatt; later seasons credited Catarina Casqueiro and Tiago Coelho as choreographers. The dancers were never there in real life, yet they still interacted with the space around you, even as the walls transformed throughout the show. They reacted to this shifting world and brought another level of dynamism to the performance.
Another critical element in making the viewer feel embedded in the performance was the music. The show was set to a beautiful soundtrack, with performances by celebrated Portuguese artists such as Rão Kyao and Teresa Salgueiro, accompanied by the Lisboa Cantat Chamber Choir, the GNR Chamber Orchestra and Tocá Rufar, along with recordings by names like Amália Rodrigues and Salvador Sobral. There were also iconic fado songs performed by Mariza, one of fado’s best-known voices.
Where It Was Staged
Lisbon Under Stars was staged at the Carmo Convent, which you’ll find in one of my favourite little town squares, aptly named Largo do Carmo, or Carmo Square. The convent sits in the Chiado neighbourhood, just up the hill from Rossio Square and a short walk from the Baixa-Chiado metro station, with the Santa Justa Lift arriving close by. Right outside the convent stands one of those iconic Lisbon drink kiosks, the perfect place to grab a ginja under the jacaranda trees. The ruins can still be visited as the Carmo Archaeological Museum.
About the Carmo Convent
Instead of a stage or a traditional venue, the show took place inside the ruins of the Convent of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. It was founded in 1389 by Nuno Álvares Pereira, Constable of the Kingdom and a hero of the Battle of Aljubarrota, and built in the traditional yet restrained Gothic style associated with the religious orders of the time. The great rose window over the portal was one of the church’s most awe-inspiring features, and it survives today only in part. The earthquake, fire and flood of 1755 caused immense damage, collapsing the entire stone roof and leaving the interior open to the sky above.
For a multitude of reasons (most of which the show revealed), the convent was left in disrepair. The rest of Lisbon was restored or rebuilt in a newer style, so the stark ruins of Carmo remain the most visible reminder of that great earthquake. Eventually, the convent found a new life: in 1864 the site was donated to the Association of Portuguese Archaeologists, who turned it into the Carmo Archaeological Museum. Despite this new role, the structure was left a living example of Gothic architecture. Some parts of the building have been given structural reinforcements, but for the most part it looks as it has for more than two and a half centuries: a Gothic church without a roof. Inside, you can see archaeological discoveries that tell the story of Portugal’s history.
My Experience at ‘Lisbon Under the Stars’
I have seen a few different examples of these types of projections throughout my travels, and I find they’re always so inventive and astounding. They transform spaces and turn a dull wall into a work of art. Other multimedia shows I’ve seen were projected onto a flat surface. At Lisbon Under Stars, the visuals interacted with the three-dimensional church, making it a far more complex installation. It really brought the entire place to life. And being outdoors, literally under the stars, made the show feel more raw and authentic.
While some parts of the show were a little cheesy (the cheap wigs were my biggest complaint), all in all it was fun and wildly creative. If you don’t know anything about Lisbon’s history, it was a great introduction to the city’s past. The price, I think, lined up well with the experience. It was a fun little thing to do in the evening, and it would have been awesome with kids. Scenes and performers shifted a little from season to season, so what follows is the show as we saw it.
The show begins with the introduction of the woman who represents the spirit of the Carmo Convent. She is our guide throughout and truly the best of the dancers. She manages to give a cold, unmoving building emotion and a fierce personality we can relate to. We can see and feel the effects of history on her face, and by the end of the show it feels like she is an old friend.
Battle of Aljubarrota
The first scene from history depicts the Battle of Aljubarrota in 1385, represented by two men dance-fighting to illustrate the war between the Kingdom of Portugal and the Crown of Castile. The battle was significant because it secured Portugal’s independence from Castile and helped establish it as a force to be reckoned with in Europe. I will say, I wish they had skipped this part or at least redone the choreography. Medieval-style fighting is a little strange to watch from a 21st-century perspective, and it does seem to drag on a bit. It’s one of the cheesiest parts of the show, and it doesn’t make the best use of the fantastic projections. It felt like instead of starting with a bang, they began with a dud.
After that introduction, I was a bit concerned about what the rest of the show would be like. The following scene depicts the founding of the Carmo Convent in 1389. Musicians playing medieval instruments pop up all around you, playing a rhythmic tune as the walls of the convent begin to manifest in front of your eyes. The darkened walls appear to be magically restored, bricks stack one upon the other, and suddenly the true glory of the convent, as it would have appeared when it was first built, reveals itself to you. So many parts of this show feel like getting into a time machine, and this is perhaps the most impressive. From this point forward, I had no more doubt and was enraptured.
Before the earthquake, the convent held a library of roughly 5,000 volumes, and here its books take flight. The first Portuguese writers and their manuscripts are shown across the walls, and books fly around the space, opening their secrets like doves’ wings as they scatter.
The walls begin to bob and weave, and before you know it, you are stepping onto a huge ship, setting sail for distant shores. This is Vasco da Gama’s great maritime voyage of 1497, which departed Lisbon in search of the sea route to India.
Da Gama succeeded in his attempt, and he returned home with spices. Trade in spices and other goods from the East brought Lisbon enormous wealth, and the richness of that voyage comes to life here before you. We are transported through the projections to the ports of India. We can hear and see all the brightly coloured fabrics and foods that would have stunned the Portuguese as they stepped off their boats into this strange and beautiful new land.
Earthquake
The years pass and Portugal thrives. It seems this city is unstoppable. And yet, on November 1, 1755, an earthquake shook Lisbon and brought destruction unlike anything anyone had ever seen. This scene throws us right into the action: the earthquake shakes the interior of the convent, and beams, archways and bricks begin to fall. It’s so lifelike you feel you need to duck to avoid getting hit! The music booms and it feels like you’re right there! A fire breaks out and destroys what the earthquake left behind. The convent is in ruins with fires burning all around, but it’s not over yet…
The fires begin to burn away, and just when you think the worst is behind you, a great rush of water swells over the convent walls. This is the tsunami that followed the earthquake, sweeping in from the Tagus and engulfing the waterfront. The dancers are now submerged and swim like fish across the empty blue expanse. This part is so lifelike you can almost feel the weight of the waves crashing down on you. It’s like magic.
After the earthquake, reconstruction of the convent began in 1756, but it was never completed. In May 1834, Joaquim António de Aguiar, then minister of justice and later prime minister, issued a law that extinguished “all convents, monasteries, colleges, hospices and any other houses of the regular religious orders.” This earned him the nickname ‘O Mata-Frades’ (the Friar-Killer). With the dissolution of the religious orders, the convent’s reconstruction was halted for good, and the church once more fell into ruins, left to the sands of time. The words of Joaquim António de Aguiar spread across the walls of the convent as if he were writing its death warrant.
Lisbon’s Working Class
Time goes on, and all around Lisbon things are changing, all except the convent itself. Carmo remains a ruined memory of the earthquake’s destruction. Everywhere you look, there are new inventions and exquisite architecture being constructed, and yet the convent sits untouched. The iconic tiles Lisbon is famous for begin to be plastered across the convent walls, almost as if the modern era were overshadowing the past.
The 1820s bring the emergence of fado, born in Lisbon’s working-class districts. Fado music plays in the background as the walls are covered in the traditional floral, tasselled shawls the singers usually wear during performances. Fado can best be described as mournful music. The Portuguese word ‘saudade’, which roughly means ‘longing’, captures the feelings fado attempts to express. The lyrics often turn on love, loss, fate and the lives of ordinary people. The songs are filled with resignation and melancholy, and yet they are so beautiful it’s hard to imagine they’re about something so dark.
Fado
In this portion of the show, we are entertained by the music of famed fado singer Mariza. She performs a stunning ballad, surrounded by stars projected against the convent walls. If you take this chance to look up, on a perfect night, you’ll see the stars shining above you as well.
The sad fado seems the ideal soundtrack for the soul of the convent at this time. She is alone, abandoned and lonely. She performs a last melancholic dance, her swan song, in a final attempt to have the world see her once more. Although things seem lost for her, something happens to pull her out of the darkness of the past: in 1864, the site is turned into the Carmo Archaeological Museum, where treasures from antiquity are collected and displayed for the public. Now the convent is filled with visitors, and the woman is no longer lonely.
Modern Era
The modern era comes in with a bang! Contemporary art explodes across the walls, the colours so bright and vibrant they come to life even without animation. The most impressive works are by Amadeo de Souza Cardoso, one of Portugal’s most celebrated modernist painters. He was influenced by both cubism and futurism. His colours are so vivid they seem almost aggressive, and yet there is always a nuanced balance to his paintings that keeps them from feeling chaotic or confused.
Images frame the tiled archways around the church, and we see black-and-white photographs of the Carnation Revolution, the coup of April 25, 1974 that brought down the dictatorship. It was organized by the Armed Forces Movement, a group of military officers who opposed the regime, and civilians poured into the streets to join them. What is remarkable about this revolution is that almost no shots were fired; the few casualties came when the secret police opened fire on protesters. An unlikely hero of the revolution was Celeste Caeiro, a restaurant worker who offered red carnations to the soldiers to celebrate the end of the dictatorship. Others followed her lead, placing carnations into the muzzles of guns and onto the soldiers’ uniforms. Projected onto all the walls of the convent are falling carnations, stacking up as high as the walls themselves until everyone is buried under a bed of red flowers. The convent’s spirit is dressed in red in these scenes and performs a dance of freedom as the carnations fall around her. This was one of my favourite visuals of the entire performance.
To end the show, the projections feature urban artists, with graffiti and street art sprayed across the convent walls. The visuals include work by artists such as Add Fuel, Daniel Eime, The Super Van by Vanessa Teodoro and Alexandre Farto, also known as Vhils. These aren’t the paintings you’ll see hanging in fancy art galleries. Instead, they are art that everyone in Lisbon can see every day on the walk to work or from the streetcar. There is no cost of admission, only a sense of discovery that will help you find these beautiful works. There is something extraordinary about elevating this kind of art, giving it credence in a show featuring mostly “high” art, which I found refreshing and inspiring.
The show ends with one last beautiful fado song. As the lights go down, all you’re left with is the most incredible view up to the stars, framed by those iconic Gothic columns and archways. The music continues to play as you exit, and we literally danced our way out the door!
Remembering the Show
A roofless church, a night sky and 600 years of history made an unforgettable combination. Lisbon Under Stars was incredibly fun, funky and the perfect way to spend a warm night in the city, and what we learned there helped contextualize so much of what we saw around Lisbon for the rest of our stay, from the tiled walls to the sound of fado to the scars of the 1755 earthquake. The show may be over, but the ruins are still there under the same stars, and if OCUBO or a similar studio brings a projection show back to Carmo, it will be well worth an evening.
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