The city of Brasília occupies a peculiar space in the Brazilian psyche.
Home to over two million people, it is the nation's capital, the seat of government
and the palace of justice and a focal point for business and investment.
But mention Brasília
to the average Brazilian and reactions range from apathy to barely-disguised
derision. As the city closes in on its 45th birthday it is still
regarded as the ugly sister when compared with the sensuous glamour of Rio
de Janeiro, the bustling multi-culturalism of São Paolo and the rich
African culture, music and cuisine of Salvador.
A Frankenstein creation
amongst natural beauties. So where has the bold vision of former President
Juscelino Kubitschek de Oliveira and renowned modernist architect Oscar Niemeyer
Kubitschek came to office
in 1956 consumed with the dream of building a new capital (to replace Rio)
in the heart of the country. This he hoped would help to revitalize the under-developed
central west region and bolster Brazil's then uncertain economy.
In less than four years,
fueled by a massive civilian effort, Brasília was born, occupying its
own federal district carved out of the savannah Goiás state. A tearful
Kubitschek inaugurated the city to cheers and applause.
The population had been
fashioned through a mixture of offers of cheap land and houses and massive
pay rises. Niemeyer, along with landscape architect Burle Marx and urban planner
Lúcio Costa, was given a free hand to design.
The result was a lay-out
based around the shape of an airplane. At the top, in the 'cockpit', the government
and judicial buildings are based. Along the fuselage, in central Brasília,
are lined the hotels, parks and various attractions.
The long-distance bus
terminal and the former train station are located in the tail. The main residential
areas are in the north and south wings, which stretch out from the fuselage.
It was here, as Jane,
who runs a travel agency in the city, explains, that Niemeyer, the arch functionalist,
really put his imagination to work. The wings were designed along a complex
numbered grid system.
"Each block of houses
was built with another corresponding block of facilities parallel," says
Jane. "So there are always shops, schools, hospitals and churches close
by to where people live."
Huge one-way, multi-lane
highways, with innumerable turn-offs and bends, were constructed with the
aim of keeping the number of traffic lights to a minimum and maintaining vehicle
But whilst these ideas
appear rational and logical on the drawing board, when put into practice the
results proved, in part at least, jumbled and dysfunctional.
Art critic Robert Hughes
famously described Brasília as "an utopian horror. It should be
a symbol of power but... It is a ceremonial slum infested with Volkswagens."
The city, though friendly
to motorists, is an assault course for the pedestrian. Distances are vast
and simple acts like crossing the road become frustrating and potentially
numerical lay-outroads generally have a number rather than a nameis
mystifying for the newcomer and causes difficulty even for the local.
Other criticisms of Brasília
are not so much the fault of the ambitious designers but the problems endemic
to all new, planned towns. Shorn of the Portuguese architecture, the Baroque
churches and colonial town-houses, that is such an appealing feature of most
Brazilian cities and towns, Brasília feels distant and impersonal.
It is over-planned, lacking
the rambling, organic touch of Rio, for example. For all Niemeyer's skill,
it is a near-impossible task to inject a city with that vital but elusive
characteristic: a soul. The sprawling malls, soaring office blocks, chain
stores and fast food joints are a symptom of globalization, but appear more
pronounced amidst Brasília's modernity.
Nevertheless, the prevailing
view of Brasília is only half true. To place the city in the same bracket
as Celebration, Florida, a master-planned, white-picket fence, gated community
near Disney World, or the modern concrete jungle of Milton Keynes in the UK,
Brasília is a clean
and prosperous city, which appears to have escaped the worst ravages of crime
and violence that afflict its most illustrious counterparts to the east. Moreover
the city's inhabitants are friendly, engaging and, by and large, enthusiastic
about where they live.
Glimpses of Niemeyer's
talent do shine through. Le Courbusier's disciple has said that he wanted
to replicate in the city the Brazilian 'curve'of the coastline, the
hills and the peopleand this is evident in his Catedral Metropolitana.
An impressive construction
of multi-colored stained glass, undulating columns reaching towards the sky
that finish in a spiked crown. The memorial to Kubitschek is also eye-catching
and from his plinth a statue of the former president can gaze down on the
city he founded. Whether he sees the triumph of logical urban planning or
a "utopian horror", however, is not known.
Shafik Meghji is a freelance journalist based in London, but currently traveling
and writing his way around South America. He has worked for the London
Evening Standard and the Press Association and has written for numerous
newspapers and magazines, including The Guardian. He can be contacted