Art Strip Cheese
The São Paulo Biennial is the third most important art exhibit in the world surpassed only by Italy's Venice Biennial and Germany's Documenta exposition held in Kassel. The international display celebrated its 50th anniversary last year and to start the second half of its first century of existence, it introduced some significant changes in the 25th edition of the art show.
The latest version of Bienal Internacional de São Paulo, which started March 23 and will be open to the public until June 2, is showing the work of 190 artists from 70 countries and had already seen more than 300,000 visitors by the end of April. The theme of the expo: Metropolitan Iconography, with an explanation from the promoters: "it's the metropolis that essentially defines artistic practice." For the first in its history, however, the Bienal chose a foreign curator, German Alfons Hug. The expo also abandoned its traditional practice of creating special spaces to present masters of painting like Van Gogh, Picasso and Francis Bacon, who were shown in the past, thus boosting attendance.
The Paulista Biennial, however, has not abandoned its vocation for controversy. And American photographer Spencer Tunick, who provoked scandal in the US and faced jail time for his Naked States installation—he took open-air pictures of naked groups in every state of the Union—took his camera to São Paulo to stir the spirits and strip people from their inhibitions and clothes in the name of art.
New York-based Tunick ended in São Paulo—the largest South American metropolis, with 10 million inhabitants—its
Nude Adrift tour, which took him during six months to 30 countries from the seven continents, including Antarctica. In
Australia, 4500 people volunteered for collective nude pictures and 2500 did the same in Canada, but the art photographer was
particularly pleased with 1200 people who showed up at six in the morning of a cloudy Sunday in Ibirapuera, São Paulo's largest
park to take off their clothes.
He commented that the number of people who turned up for the performance was three times what he averaged in Europe. Quite a few of the naked models were press people who wanted to describe in the first person the nude statue feeling. One of them, Rede TV reporter Wagner Sugamelli was the first one to get naked and gave what other journalists called a show of exhibitionism and bad taste. Tunick talked about his disappointment with the small number of women participating (about 10 percent, when the average had been 45 percent) and the almost total absence of blacks.
Black artist Ana Lúcia Silva Santos told Brasília daily Correio Braziliense, "Unfortunately culture in Brazil is far from the people. That's why there are few blacks here. I was able to overcome my fear, since it's hard for me even to go to the beach on a bikini." Attorney Florivaldo de Almeida, 71, complained about the cold cement where people had to lie down for the second of three series of pictures, but "the human warmth improved the thermal sensation," he added.
The São Paulo civilian police intervened to prevent five-year-old Penélope Inácio from participating in the naked bodies carpet. The little girl was already naked and ready for the shot when she was spotted by a policeman, who forced her father to dress the child and take her out. Indignant, engineer José Carlos Ignácio, who was with his wife and Penélope's mother, lambasted the police action: "This is pure hypocrisy. There are children starving in the streets who should inspire more concern to the police than my daughter."
For the Brazilian media, the event was big news guaranteeing large front-page pictures in the countries largest and
most influential newspapers and sizeable articles inside. Writing for São Paulo's
Jornal da Tarde—sister publication of
respected centenary conservative O Estado de S.
Paulo—, reporter Armando Serra Negra confided: "All nudity was
photographed. And I was there. How delicious. I felt a marvelous and subtle sensation (…) It was funny to see a zit in somebody's butt,
the sexy tattoo on a lady's derrière, or vice-versa. Some pricks bigger than others, bellies too, pretty and ugly buttocks.
Who cares. By and large the human body, be it perfect like the one from the brunette by my side, or from the fatso man or
woman, full of tattoos spreading through their old age, is very pretty."
Memory Brazil's Pediatrician
He spent his life taking care of other peoples babies. He even wrote the Brazilian bible on tending to infants, A Vida do Bebë (The Baby's Life). First released in 1941, the book had its 41st edition— expanded and updated by the author—published last year. Despite all his hands-on work with tots, Dr. Rinaldo De Lamare confessed recently that he never changed a soiled diaper. "In 1950, any man who would this would be ridiculed," he commented. "As for me, I didn't do it just because I didn't have the time."
His death at age 92, on April 28, at his home in Rio—he hated hospitals—was not front page material and most Brazilian papers buried the news in an obscure section of an internal page, but those who heard about his passing could not help but feel that someone from their family had gone, someone like a dear grandpa or old godfather, someone who knew the answer when a little baby started to scream in the middle of the night or a fever won't go down. De Lamare was in bed since September of last year when he had a stroke.
A Vida do Bebê sold 5 million copies or 6.5 million according to another version. Any figure you accept the book comes as the all-time champion among Brazilian books sold in Brazil. Capitães de Areia by Jorge Amado, a novel first published in 1937, comes in second with 74 editions and 4.5 million copies sold. (O Alquimista by Paulo Coelho, first published in 1988, has already sold more than 11 millions copies, but this includes editions in dozen of countries. Coelho has sold 8 million copies in Brazil of his 12 books.)
Born in Santos (state of São Paulo) in January 2, 1910, young Rinaldo went to Rio when he was 16 to study medicine at Universidade do Brasil, known today as Universidade Federal do Rio de Janeiro. "At that time, youngsters would choose between three careers-engineering, law, medicine," he said two years ago. "I chose the profession that fascinated me the most." De Lamare was only 22 when he opened his first clinic in Madureira, a poor Rio suburb and soon he would be seeing up to 100 children a day. He stayed there for eight years. Diarrhea being the main cause of child mortality, the doctor introduced a simple recipe to help parents save their kids: a serum made with a tea spoon of salt and dessert spoon of sugar added to filtered water. The home medication, which is still used in poor communities in Brazil today, wasn't well received by other doctors, according to De Lamare. "Doctors got paid a 20 percent commission from the pharmacist for the prescriptions sold. The more syrup they gave children, the better for their pockets." Due to his unorthodox approach his clients used to consider him more a shaman or medicine man than a doctor.
"There were neither antibiotics nor vaccine at that time and every month we had lots of cases of contagious diseases such as measles, chicken pox, whooping cough," the doctor recalled. There were also cases of polio and meningitis. "It was wonderful when a polio vaccine was discovered in 1953 because it was too distressing to tell a mother that her child had infantile paralysis and not a cold."
In 1940, the busy doctor moved his office to Avenida Nilo Peçanha, in downtown Rio, and suddenly he had plenty of time in his hands and very few patients. It would take him three years to form a new clientele. That gave him the idea to use the free time to write a book on caring for babies. De Lamare was inspired by Guia das Mães (Mothers'Guide), a book written by Brazilian pediatrician Germano Wittock.
The good doctor moved his clinic to Copabacana, in the affluent south of Rio, in the '50s. There he would amass an archive of more than 60000 patients. In 1964, De Lamare was invited by the military regime that took over the country that year to head the federal Departamento Nacional da Criança (National Child Department). He stayed in that post until 1968.
Upon visiting extremely poor families in the Northeast, which had in average six kids, the pediatrician proposed a federal family planning that would limit to two per couple the number of kids allowed. The military nixed the idea alleging that they didn't want to face neither the Catholic Church nor the Army brass who favored a larger population to occupy Brazilian extensive frontiers.
When offered the job of Health Minister by president Costa e Silva he declined saying he didn't feel prepared for that challenge. He took care of the grandchildren of three military presidents: General Humberto de Alencar Castello Branco, General Arthur da Costa e Silva and General Emílio Garrastazu Médici.
A Vida do Bebê is divided in chapters showing month to month how infants are to be dealt with in that phase of
their lives. De Lamare made significant changes to his book after reading American Benjamin Spock's (1903-1998)
The Common Sense
Book of Baby and Child Care (Meu Filho, Meu
Tesouro—My Child, My Treasure, in Brazil) from 1946. The Brazilian
doctor abandoned the authoritarian German view on child rearing in favor of a more open approach in which children's wills
were taken into account.
Unlike Spock who made few alterations to his original work, De Lamare kept updating his book every four years. In child rearing he was in favor of discipline, but also flexibility. "Today we know that freedom in excess does not bring good results to the human being. It's wise the phrase of the Latin revolutionary: "Hay que endurecerse, pero sin perder la ternura jamás — One must get tough without losing tenderness ever," he used to say citing Argentinean Ernesto Che Guevara.
He only stopped seeing kids in his office after he had the first of five bypass surgeries, in 1985. By then he was already 75. The doctor was 81 when he was chosen to preside the Academia Nacional de Medicina. De Lamara was also president of the Sociedade Brasileira de Pediatria in 1948 and 1949 and titular professor at Rio's PUC (Pontifícia Universidade Católica—Pontifical Catholic University).
De Lamare has also had his detractors. Many consider his advice out of step with today's world. He used to accept
the criticism with a dose of humor and irony. "I know I'm old," he told interviewers more than once. "I'm a pediatrician from
the 20th century, that is, the past century.
Goodbye Classic, After All
In the '50s and '60s he was "cafona" (tacky), in the '70s he was "brega" (tacky), but since then Adelino Moreira has become cult and his death at 84, on May 7, was widely reported. He died in his sleep from a heart attack at his Rio home. His tune "A Volta do Boêmio" (The Bohemian's Return) sung by late Nelson Gonçalves sold more than 20 million discs and "Negue" (Deny), another of his popular songs had more than 140 versions. Moreira was a tireless composing machine having written more than 1000 tunes without a partner. In the last ten years he hadn't composed, but he'd still sing and play the guitar for his grandchildren.
The basic theme of his songs was always the same: love pain caused by breakups, fights, unrequited passion. He has been called Rei da Fossa (King of Blues) and his cult status was only possible thanks to re-recording of some of his old tunes by the first team of Brazilian singers, interpreters like Gal Costa and Maria Bethânia.
Born in Oporto, Portugal, on March 28, 1918, Adelino Moreira de Castro moved to Campo Grande, a Rio suburb, with his parents before turning two. He was already working as a goldsmith like his father when he decided to try his hand at music composing. He never finished high school and married Maria da Conceição when he was 18 (the marriage lasted until 1951). Moreira started his musical career in 1938 playing the mandolin. In 1945, invited by Braguinha (João de Barro), who was the director of the recording company
Continental, he recorded four of his compositions, a samba ("Mulato Artilheiro"), a marcha ("Nem Cachopa, nem Comida") and the fados "Olhos d'Alma" and "Anita". Moreira represented a musical vein (música de dor de cotovelo—literally elbow pain music) that thrived in broken-heart and love-gone-bad songs. Other famous representatives of this kind of music also known as música de fossa (lit. cesspool music) were Dolores Duran, Antonio Maria and Maysa.
Moreira together with Nelson Gonçalves became the golden duo of this kind of music after meeting in June of 1950 on the elevator of Rádio Nacional, the hit maker media of the time. The partnership started with "Última Seresta", a tune penned with Sebastião Santana. "A Volta do Boêmio" was first recorded in 1955. Throughout the next decades Moreira and Gonçalves would team in more than 400 hit songs. Other fruits of the partnership that became famous: "Fica Comigo Esta Noite," (1961) and "Meu Vício É Você" (1957). Nelson Gonçalves died on April 18, 1998. (See Brazzil online http://www.brazzil.com/p13may98.htm)
Bossa nova, with its understated even minimalist way of singing about the niceties of life, buried in the '60s the melodramatic boleros and samba canções authored by Adelino Moreira. While other dor de cotovelo composers like gaúcho Lupicínio Rodrigues were recognized later as outstanding authors, Moreira kept for a long time the campy stigma.
In 1966, Moreira had a dispute with Nelson Gonçalves and after that promoted singer Carlos Nobre, who imitated Gonçalves. Only in 1971 they patched thing up. For many year, the composer was head of Sbacem (Sociedade Brasileira de Autores, Compositores e Escritores de Música—Brazilian Association of Music Author, Composers and Writers). He was one of the few composers in Brazil that was able to live comfortably from his royalties.
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Adelino Moreira Boemia, aqui me tens de regresso Boemia, sabendo que andei distante Acontece que a mulher que floriu Vá rever os teus rios, teus
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The Bohemian's Return
Bohemia, you have me back Bohemia, knowing that I've been far away It happens that the woman who bloomed Once again go see your rivers, your
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Religion Rad Carpet
Elizabeth Willoughby
It's approaching midnight as restlessness permeates the town. A quiet commotion is stirring as villagers steal out of their homes in the middle of the night and head for the historical center of the 421 year-old town, where time has stood still. Laden with sacks, buckets and blueprints, they head to their designated area to execute their portion of the plan. By five a.m. numerous conspirators have joined the force and, by sunrise, the coalition is in full swing.
It's not a political uprising or coup d'état. Only a stones throw away from São Paulo, Brazil, one of the largest cities in the world, the small town of Santana de Parnaíba is celebrating Corpus Christi. These people have a unique way to do it.
About mid May, after selecting a picture-pattern from the town's priest, participants begin to prepare for the event. They will reproduce this picture directly onto the road on the day of Corpus Christi (this year on May 30). Using a variety of elements, including painted sawdust, coffee powder, flowers, seeds, and quicklime, they will create a two-kilometer-long rug for the church procession to walk over, starting and ending at the Main Church of Sant'Ana.
Each artist must color enough sawdust, with homemade paint, to make their own three-meter portion. The 1,700 bags of sawdust (four truckloads) used by the artisans are acquired from the local furniture factory. Hoping for calm, dry weather, they head out to the streets long before sunrise so they have time to complete their creations by 3:30. Then, following afternoon mass, the procession leaves the church to walk the carpeted streets carrying the ostensorium.
Santana de Parnaíba, 35 kilometers from São Paulo and older than São Paulo itself, is famous for its connection to the past. The buildings of the historical center have been restored and are maintained true to their heritage, worth a visit in their own right. Most of the festivals in the town are practiced as they have been since the festivals began.
Does this mean the villagers have been creating these striking, sawdust compositions for over four centuries? Not quite. This fairly new way of celebrating the holy day was contrived by a young lady named Emília Gil d'Assunção in 1967.
Previously, homes and offices in town were decorated with pots of red São João flowers. However in '67, the day of observance fell on the same day as O Dia dos Namorados, Brazil's version of Valentine's Day, June 12. Thirty-one year old Emília was working as a schoolteacher in Santana de Parnaíba, though her family lived in another town, Salto de Itu. As was usual, they expected her home for the religious event. Her father had no idea that Emília had a boyfriend, and she was not about to tell him. Desperate to come up with a reason why she should stay in Santana close to her beau, Emília thought of the carpet making. She ran the idea by the priest, the mayor and the school director. Everyone approved.
Together with her fellow teachers, the first street carpet was created and this form of the celebration has been growing every year since. Today, Santana de Parnaíba attracts over 30,000 people who come and go throughout the day. Some come for the morning or noon mass, some to watch the carpets being made, visit the craft fair and have lunch, and some to watch the procession.
Formerly, artisans were free to create their own "peaceful and religious" pictures. But the year that the procession walked over Jesus Christ carrying a ghetto blaster on his shoulder, the priest decided to preside over future design distribution.
Emília hasn't participated in the rug making since 1971. That is when she got married and started her own family—yes, with the same young man who inspired her to start the sawdust rugs in the first place. Thirty years later, they are still married and Santana de Parnaíba still celebrates Corpus Christi in the same curious, yet resplendent, manner. It's simply grand.
Elizabeth Willoughby is a Canadian freelance writer currently living in São Paulo, Brazil. Her columns, "Letters Home" and "Going Places" appear regularly in São Paulo media. She can be reached at rekw@hotmail.com
Indy 500 Unstoppable Brazil
Phillip Wagner
Brazilians sneaked into last year's Indianapolis 500 and captured five of the top seven places in front of 400,000 unsuspecting race fans at what is known as the 'Greatest Spectacle in Racing'. This year the Brazilians mounted an undisguised frontal assault, qualifying in three of the top six spots with Bruno Junqueira taking the pole position. The pit crew of defending champion Hélio Castroneves dominated a pre-race pit crew competition. Tony Kanaan, who qualified in the fifth position, added an exclamation point by posting the fastest speed on a day that tradition has mandated should continue to be called 'Carburation Day'.
The word 'carburator' isn't even recognized by most spell-checkers anymore. And carburators haven't been used at Indianapolis for as long as anyone can seem to remember. Raul Boesel qualified third, Hélio Castroneves thirteenth and Gil de Ferran fourteenth. A sixth Brazilian, Airton Dare only managed to qualify thirtieth in the thirty three car field, but even the slowest car among the 2002 entries qualified at a faster speed than the 2001 pole sitter. If the weather would cooperate, 'a sprint to the finish' promised to be an apt description for this year's 200-lap feature.
The controversial nature of the last second dash between Castroneves and Canadian Paul Tracy notwithstanding, Brazil can hardly lose. Before 2001, Brazilian drivers had gone largely unnoticed at Indianapolis, if not Formula Indy. To his credit, Raul Boesel consistently presented a good image at Indy. But like so many great drivers, found fortune lacking at the 'Big oval'. So the extraordinary talent of Brazil's native sons remained as cloaked as 'sleeper' agents in the international intrigue it has become, but no longer. Brazil has always represented an enormous potential market for Formula Indy, which has struggled to get attention there. Ironic, since Brazilians drivers have struggled to get attention here.
TV Globo's marriage to Formula One, coupled with its dominant role among Brazilian media, has never made it easy for Formula Indy to gain exposure in the Brazilian marketplace. But success finds its own way for creating demand. Several fans in Brazil had indicated to me, since last year, that they were warming to the idea of splitting their interest and wished the Indianapolis 500 would be shown there. This year, no doubt owing to last year's spectacular showing by the young Brazilians, their wish came true. TV Record International, headquartered in São Paulo, contracted to show the race through Ice Miller, a highly respected 90 year-old Indianapolis law firm. They no doubt weren't disappointed.
A bright race day sun warmed the two and a half-mile oval that, for most of the month, had been anything but warm, or dry. Cold wet rain had caused many practice-days, and the second day of qualifications, to be cancelled. It threatened the ability for race teams to secure one of the, then nine, still open slots on last chance 'bump day'. But severe storms rolled through the day before the race and cleared away any vestiges of bad weather.
Just before the singing of "Back Home Again in Indiana" and the legendary pronouncement of "Gentlemen start your engines", a stealth bomber, escorted by F-16 jet fighters, glided over the track. My impression was that it looked like an extraterrestrial bird of prey. It's ominous shadow reminded everyone that the international atmosphere surrounding this year's event was more serious than it had been in 2001. Finally, a roar of engines enveloped the roaring crowd as thirty-three sleek, powerful silhouettes sped toward the starters flag; a clean start. But the race nearly had to be restarted. Adrenaline pumped drivers had spread to nearly unacceptable spacing on their first approach to the start finish line. Even after the start, race officials considered waving the field back in.
Junqueira jumped out to a quick lead, but almost immediately began to experience problems. Bruno and his team devised a work-around over the radio and he quickly recovered to set a blistering pace. Raul Boesel, who has perhaps more experience and name recognition than any other Brazilian driver, also laid early claim as a contender.
When Greg Ray piled his car into a wall on lap 29, the yellow caution flag made its first appearance and Junqueira pulled in for a pit stop. The gearbox problem that slowed him early had caused his car to stall, and the lead was lost. But Brazilians Tony Kanaan, Gil de Ferran and Raul Boesel were running third, fifth and seventh at time.
Hélio Castroneves, last year's winner, quickly rose to ninth. By lap 50, a quarter of the way into the race, Kanaan was in a 225 mile an hour three-car wide drag race on the straight-a-way fighting for the top spot. South African Thomas Scheckter held (North) American Sam Hornish Junior and Kanaan at bay. But Kanaan slipped into second two laps later, with de Ferran, Boesel and Castroneves still in fifth, seventh and ninth. Castroneves moved up to eighth by lap 60, at which time Junqueira was running twenty-first.
Kanaan inherited the lead on lap 63 when Scheckter took a pit stop, but gave it up on lap 67 to pit his own car. By lap 80 Kanaan and de Ferran were running one and three. As the race neared its midpoint, Brazilian fortunes changed dramatically. Junqueira's engine blew, spilling oil onto the track. Tony Kanaan's car, following close behind, spun on the slick track and crumpled as it met the wall. So Kanaan, who was leading at the time, and Junqueira, who had won the pole position and had jumped to an impressive early lead, were suddenly among the first six cars to leave the race. De Ferran moved into second place by the midway point of 100 laps, with Castroneves still running eighth.
De Ferran inherited the lead after 121 laps when Scheckter pulled in for a tire change, then conceded it to Frenchman Felipe Giaffóne several laps later to do the same. Pre race talk among race teams had been that wear on the track standard Firestone tires would be a problem, particularly under the sun. But the tires held up better than expected.
De Ferran had already recovered to third by lap 130, and almost immediately moved into second behind Scheckter. At lap 142 de Ferran was still in second, Hélio Castroneves had moved into seventh and Airton Dare had climbed all the way to sixteenth, but Raul Boesel had slipped to twenty-third. Only 58 laps, little more than a quarter of the race, remained. De Ferran re-inherited the lead at lap 150 when Scheckter again pulled in for a pit stop. De Ferran held that lead until lap 161 when he gave it up to Alex Barron, a San Diego native. That marked the seventeenth lead change among eight drivers in the race. Three of those, of course, had been Junqueira, Kanaan and de Ferran. It appeared that one more pit stop per driver would be needed.
South African Scheckter, who had regained the lead, was collected into the track wall before lap 175, caving in the right side of his car. Frenchman Giaffóne moved in front under the yellow caution flag, and it appeared that de Ferran would shortly recapture it. But, unbelievably, de Ferran's car lost a wheel coming out of the pits. Defending champion Hélio Castroneves, who had quietly been moving up in the field, and decided to gamble that he could finish the race without taking another pit stop, assumed the lead on lap 178. It was the 21st lead change and he became the fourth Brazilian to lead in the race.
Although his crew resolved his tire problem, de Ferran had fallen to eleventh place. As the race entered lap 187 of 200, the question on everyone's mind was whether Castroneves could complete the race without another pit stop. If the answer was yes, we might see the same driver, a Brazilian in his only two appearances ever at the track no less, in the winner's circle for the second straight year. Thirty laps had already passed since his last pit stop. Forty-two laps without a pit stop would be a surprising accomplishment. Conventional wisdom said it couldn't be done.
As the clock ran down, Castroneves began to stretch his lead. Second place Frenchman Giaffóne struggled to pass slower cars on the crowded track. Soon there were only 6 laps to go. Castroneves began to slow and Giaffóne threatened to take the lead. The Canadian, Paul Tracy, slipped past Giaffóne. Tension mounted as Tracy pulled alongside Castroneves with barely more than a lap to go. Approaching the final lap Tracy appeared to take the lead. But there was an incident on the track behind the leaders. The yellow caution flag was waving as the pass occurred, and it was disallowed. Track officials motioned Castroneves back into the lead and he crossed the "Brickyard's" start-finish line as the provisional winner.
De Ferran finished tenth, Dare thirteenth and Boesel twenty-first. All in all, another remarkable showing by Brazilians driving their way into the hearts of North American racing fans. Especially considering the misfortunes Junqueira, Kanaan and de Ferran. As Brazilian soccer fortunes have waned, their Formula Indy fortunes have risen. Perhaps Rubens Barrichello should consider trading in his Formula One credentials for Formula Indy opportunities where, apparently, Brazilian drivers are encouraged to compete to win. We'll see Rubens here in any case when Formula One returns to Indianapolis in September.
Phillip Wagner is a free-lance photojournalist, a frequent traveler to Brazil and a regular contributor to Brazzil. Phillip's focus is on Brazilian culture and "constructive social engagement" that helps Brazilians to become self-sufficient. Phillip is a 1979 graduate of Indiana University and resides in Indianapolis; visit his Brazil Web Pages at http://www.iei.net/~pwagner/brazilhome.htm and/or contact him directly at pwagner@iei.net