We undress ourselves when we stop fearing to look inside ourselves. In that moment when we see ourselves, do we confront with ourselves or with our representations? Three women. Three generations. A confrontation between the three times. A dialogue between a body, a self manifest, a dwelling place, and a memory. Europe. A house defined by who lives in it. It begins with moments and identities, real or from a collective imaginary, originated in the memories of the three. The grandmother, Ofélia was her name. The mother, Conceição. I, Carolina. In the immediate time of this inhabited performance, a place is evoked, a time to adapt to and to be in, a time for comprehension and appropriation of that memory in which the body expands, in which the body contracts; in someone who is there, in someone who is, submitting ourselves to the norms and roots of what we recall. “Three women get undressed to be Europe” interrupts us in a suspended, arbitrary path, like when a thought comes to us. Whether it is a poetic trap of Godard, a cigarette with Simone Beauvoir, or an invitation to dance. In a meeting with Elektra of Aeschylus or Picasso’s woman ironing. In the Müller Coffee Shop or the site where Joan of Arc was executed. It interrupts us on top of our skin and underneath our wounds.