interview | chandler kinney

For Alexandre Nero, acting has always had a soundtrack. Before he became one of Brazil’s most recognizable television actors, Nero spent years making music, touring Brazil and Europe, and absorbing the rhythms that would eventually become part of his approach to performance. Today, he builds characters not only through gesture, costume, and psychology, but through the musicality of a voice — its pitch, rhythm, pauses, and melody.

That instinct may help explain the extraordinary staying power of his characters. From the ruthless José Alfredo in ‘Império’ to the charismatic villains who have made him a fixture of Brazilian television, Nero has developed a particular talent for making complicated, sometimes deeply flawed men impossible to look away from. His latest turn as Marco Aurélio in ‘Vale Tudo’ has only reinforced that reputation, earning him the affectionate title of “the audience’s favourite villain.” But Nero’s career has never belonged to one medium or one kind of character. He has moved between television, film, theatre, and music, portrayed real-life figures such as pianist João Carlos Martins and continued to pursue music alongside acting. For him, creativity is less about innate genius than about the discipline to keep working, experimenting, and looking for something new.

Now, with new music, new projects for film and television, and a return to the theatre in development, Nero chats with Schön! about discovering what is coming next.

shirt + trousers. Louis Vuitton
necklace + ring. Guerreiro

You started as a musician in 1990, decades before your first Globo telenovela. Looking back, how did those years playing in bands and touring Brazil and Europe shape the way you approach building a character today?

For many years, the two things were intertwined. I used to confuse the names Stanislavski and Stravinsky. One is an icon of world theatre and acting technique, and the other is considered one of the greatest composers of the 20th century. Both are Russian, with names that sound extremely similar: Stanislavski and Stravinsky. Early in my career, I was embarrassed about confusing the two. Today, I realize it was simply a Freudian slip and, in fact, I am very proud of it. It means that the two things, my two professions and my two influences, were intertwined and remain intertwined to this day.

So, as an actor, I now pay close attention to the tone of voice, to the low and high notes and, especially, to the musicality of the text, its rhythms, and what kind of melody I am using to “sing” the text. This is very present in my characters. Each character has a musicality, a rhythm, and a tone of voice that are essential to how I build a new character.

‘Vale Tudo’ made Marco Aurélio one of the most talked-about villains in Brazil this year and gave you the nickname “the audience’s favourite villain.” What do you think it is about him — or about how you played him — that made audiences root for a bad guy?

First, because I don’t think he was that bad. That was a choice made by the writer: to give him complexity and humanity. He was a man who acknowledged his guilt and responsibility, a man who deeply loved his son and an orphaned child. He had empathy, even if it was biased. He was a man who wasn’t entirely bad, and people gradually picked up on that.

Of course, I took advantage of that and added charisma and humour as well. There was humour in the text. Bad temper can also be funny when it is directed that way. I took advantage of that situation to ride along with the writer’s idea and make people laugh and have fun. I think that was it. It was an interesting marriage between what the writer wanted and what I planted there alongside it.

opposite
shirt + trousers. Louis Vuitton
necklace + ring. Guerreiro

José Alfredo in ‘Império’ is often cited as a landmark role for you. Ten years on, how do you see that character differently now than you did while you were playing him?

He is, without a doubt, the most memorable one. To this day, he is the character I am most remembered for. Of course, many people mention other characters, but there is no doubt that he is the most memorable, which makes me very proud. It means that 12 or 13 years later, he left a mark on Brazilian television drama. I do see him differently, yes. Today, I think he is much more of a “villain” than I thought he was at the time. Of course, back then, I defended the character. When you are playing a character, you try to find a great deal of truth in him; you try to defend him and understand him. It is like trying to enter the mind of a murderer, right? Not defending him in the sense of condoning a murderer, but understanding him. That is the best way for you to defend a character.

Although he had a lot of charisma, which I also brought to the character precisely because he was the protagonist, I think he was quite a bad person. It is very important for a character, whether he is a villain, a good person, or anything else, to have at least some charisma. Because a telenovela lasts eight or nine months, and people watch it every day. It is different from a film or a series, which people watch for a shorter period of time. You can reject that character; you can hate him with all your might for two hours and never want to see that person, that character, again.

That is not the case with a telenovela. You have to want to see that character every day for nine months. You have to keep that audience loyal, so there has to be at least some desire to watch him. No matter how cruel that character may be, you still have to keep people interested in seeing him. He needs to have some charisma, even if it comes through his cruelty, wickedness, or villainy. People still have to be interested in watching him. You cannot create such a strong sense of rejection that the audience no longer wants to see you. I think that is what I try to do with my characters: always give them at least some magnetism. I think that was the case with Zé Alfredo. I think he is a villain in reverse.

You’ve played villains across very different eras and worlds — Romero Rômulo, Tonico Rocha, Marco Aurélio. Is there a common thread in how you build a villain, or does each one require you to throw out your previous approach entirely?

It is very difficult to create new characters when, in theory, you are always being placed within the same recurring profiles. Whenever I am given a villain, I always try to take a different path: in the way he behaves, the way he dresses, and the way he walks.

I think the main thing — and I mentioned this in the previous answer — is to maintain at least some charisma and appeal, especially when we are talking about a telenovela. You have to make sure that people can watch the character every day without creating a sense of rejection in the audience because a telenovela is a marathon, not a hundred-meter sprint. You have to make the audience want to watch you for nine months.

shirt. Louis Vuitton
necklace + ring. Guerreiro
opposite
shirt. Louis Vuitton
necklace + ring. Guerreiro

Portraying João Carlos Martins in ‘O Maestro’ meant embodying a real, living musician with an extraordinary personal story. As a musician yourself, did that role feel different from your other work — did it carry a different kind of responsibility?

Yes, it did. So much so that my first conversation with Mauro, the director of the film, was precisely about that. I said, “Well, if we are going to make a film about a musician, one mistake that happens very often in films related to music is in the editing.” It seriously compromises the music. As a viewer, I notice it, and I don’t like it. I think it is very bad and compromises the film. I believe that the editing of the audio and video is extremely important.

Finding out that Mauro was also a musician made it much easier for us to understand each other. I took piano lessons. I don’t play the piano. Obviously, even if I did, I would never play like João Carlos Martins. No one does; that is why he is João Carlos Martins.But I learned the choreography of playing, which is very important: the position of the notes and their timing. I understood it choreographically. I knew exactly where the notes were and their exact timing. I was dancing with my fingers. I didn’t play, but I danced with my fingers, which made the synchronization in the editing process much easier.

Your new album ‘Quarto, suítes, alguns cômodos e outros nem tanto’ features Elza Soares and Milton Nascimento, as well as a collaboration with Aldir Blanc. What did working with artists of that stature bring out in you creatively that you hadn’t tapped into before?

What working with them awakened in me came precisely from the experience of working with them. Meeting them and seeing their humanity made me understand that what exists there is work — a great deal of obsession with perfection and with what one wants to create. It is not a divine gift that simply arrives, as though God had sent something. There is a great deal of work involved.

It brought me to a place I had already been exploring for a long time: I don’t believe purely in talent. I believe in aptitude and, today more than ever, I believe in working tirelessly and obsessively on the things you love and believe in. Milton, Elza and, especially, Aldir Blanc made me believe in that even more. It takes a great deal of work. Creativity and aptitude can help, but they are not everything.

opposite
shirt + trousers. Handred
bracelet. Guerreiro

You’ve moved between theatre, television, film, and music for over three decades now. Is there a discipline among those four that still challenges or scares you the most?

I think all of them are challenging. We are always looking for challenges, for things we have never done before or that encourage us to seek out new experiences. As for being scared, none of them really scares me. It is like riding a bicycle: you don’t really forget how to do it. But some muscles are used less often and, because of that, they can stiffen or hurt a little more here and there.

Music, which was absolutely my main profession for 20 years, holds me back a little today because it has been a long time since I devoted time to that particular craft. The same is true of theatre. It has been a long time since I stepped onto a stage to practice the craft of a theatre actor. The languages of television, film and theatre come from the same raw material, but each has its own particularities. Muscles atrophy when they are not used often. Artistic performance does too.

Performing Gonzaguinha’s songs with an all-women orchestra is a striking image. What drew you to that specific project, and what has it revealed to you about his music that you hadn’t noticed before?

What drew my attention to this project, beyond the fact that they are all women, is that they are young women between the ages of 13 and 19 who play brilliantly. So, I didn’t do it purely out of charity or altruism. I did it because I felt that it was an exceptionally well-run and remarkably accomplished project, thanks to its administrators, its conductor and, especially, the girls. That captivated me.

As for Gonzaguinha, I think everyone knows — and I knew it too — but it is always impactful to remember and revisit Gonzaguinha. Because he is a composer who is less remembered than he should be within our popular songbook. Gonzaguinha is among the three or four greatest lyricists in Brazilian popular music. It is always good to revisit his work because it makes you think, “How did this man write this?” It is truly striking to realize what an exceptional lyricist he was.

shirt + trousers. Armani
bracelet. Guerreiro
belt. Reserva
opposite
jacket + shirt. Foxton

Brazilian telenovelas have such a devoted, vocal audience. How has the public’s relationship to your characters — the love, the hate, the memes — changed over the course of your career, from A Favorita to now?

It has changed completely. I was a man who was unknown to the wider public, and I became someone who is recognized everywhere I go. I don’t notice the hate. I have never noticed hatred toward my characters. Of course, people come up to me and point out the villainy of a certain character, but there has never been any hatred directed at me personally. It has always been expressed in a playful way in relation to the characters, and I have always been very well received by the public. I always find the memes funny. Any meme about a character, whether it is mine or someone else’s, is always funny to me. I love memes. Brazilians are, by far, the best meme creators in the world. They are incredibly creative.

With this much range already behind you — leading man, comic relief, villain, real-life biopic subject, touring musician — is there a role or a kind of story you still haven’t told that you’re chasing?

There will always be new stories to tell and fascinating characters to investigate, and I am always attentive and open to those possibilities. But I also pursue more personal projects, because I believe it is only through them that an artist can give an exact voice to what they want to say. At the moment, I have been developing some ideas and scripts for films and series, and I have also been working on a monologue for the theatre. That is what I am looking for now: stories and thoughts that I want to share.

shirt + trousers. Handred
bracelet. Guerreiro
opposite
knit sweater. Handred

jacket + shirt. Foxton

art direction + photography. Sher Santos
fashion. Ju Sans
talent. Alexandre Nero
hair + make up. Débora Riete
photography assistant. Bianca Passos
location. Largo das Artes, Rio de Janeiro

Who do you become when your screen goes dark? The digital takeover may have democratised accessibility to information and opportunity, but its dark side includes a cultural disconnect and an entire generation whose taste is shaped by a feedback loop rather than real word experience. Telekom Electronic Beat’s campaign “NOT A PASSENGER” tackles the phenomenon head on. It’s a reminder to touch grass and take the reins of your present rather than letting life pass you by one scroll at a time.

In the name of IRL, Telekom Electronic Beats held a live show at an unlikely location in Berlin. Fans gathered to see British indie rock band Wet Leg at a former taxi workshop. The multi-story concrete venue featured a Pinterest photo booth and bumper cars before guests enjoyed seeing  Lava La Rue followed by Wet Leg who charmed the crowd with their rhythmic riffs and catchy hooks. The band’s lead singer Rhian Teasdale is the face of the “NOT A PASSENGER” campaign, saying in a press statement that “we’re all constantly being told who to be by strangers online. Life’s too short not to be at the helm.”  

At the show, there was a notable lack of phones in the air, instead, fans sang along to their favourite songs and collectively plugged into the live music experience. Being online has become an inescapable part of everyday life. It’s all too easy to forget the art of forging an identity, opinion, aesthetic and direction outside of it. “NOT A PASSENGER” is a much needed reminder to reclaim your time and embrace the analogue a little more. 

photography. Cobra Snake
words. Shama Nasinde

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In a triumphant London return, JAŸ-Z reminded us exactly why he is widely regarded as the greatest of all time on his JAŸ-Z 30 tour. Carrying the pulse of New York with him, H.O.V. took us on an awe-inspiring drive down memory lane to celebrate three decades of his debut album. “How many people in here have been down since day one? This album changed my life thirty years ago, and hopefully some of these words touch you,” he tells the crowd. Thirty years on from Reasonable Doubt, you still can’t knock his hustle.

His first solo tour in nine years featured a mix of classics, fan favourites, and deep cuts. Hits like “Izzo,” “Empire State of Mind,” “Dirt Off Your Shoulder,” “Hard Knock Life,” and “Run This Town” ignited the crowd. When “99 Problems” dropped, a helicopter swept low over the stadium. JAŸ-Z has a magnetic stage presence that few artists can pull off and spent most of the show alone on stage. He possessed the command and aura of a legend thirty years deep in the game who still knows how to connect. “I see a lot of faces that were here yesterday, welcome back,” he says on stage. 

Backed by his band and orchestra, he fed off the crowd before peeling back his armour with rare, vulnerable cuts of “Song Cry” and “Never Change.” A glance across Tottenham Hotspur Stadium showed a sea of hands throwing up his iconic Roc-A-Fella diamond sign and fans dressed in throwback Yankees jerseys and Timberlands, mirroring the old-school New York visuals displayed on screen. JAŸ-Z honoured London too, recalling 1989 when he spent two months in a flat in Notting Hill with mentor Jaz-O: “I knew there was a bigger world for me out there… so this place has a special significance to me… And I really appreciate you from the bottom of my heart not only for the inspiration but for the love,” he says. Surprise appearances came from Dave and Sampha, who battled a faulty mic on “No Church in the Wild” as the crowd carried him through it. Night two of his London shows may not have featured the legacy guests of the first evening, but it did prove that three decades in, JAŸ-Z is still the whole show.

photography. Courtesy of Roc Nation 
words. Sam Quashie-Idun
music editor. Shama Nasinde