September 2015
A spiritual journey in the metro
This begins with a spiritual tour of the metro, one of my favorite metros in the world.
The trip begins with the experience of being an older metro rider. It goes on a trip to various metro stations that sound like a cheerful pilgrimage beginning with the saint of lost causes and ending in Consolation.
I’ll explain that in a minute, but first …
“Maturity “ has some advantages in this society which has institutionalized “preferential access” for seniors, pregnant women, and people with small children. The icon for a senior (idosa) is a cane, and whenever I carry my hiking stick people flutter out of the especially-designated seats (unless they are more idosa than I). I can also flash any official looking document showing my age on it and they let me ride the metro free.
The same happens in customer lines in stores, for airline boarding, and a myriad other situations where you find yourself saying “ Thank you, but I think I can make it” (and hoping you can).
The real point this particular day was to get to the Sao Paulo Museum of Art (MASP). The trip begins with a spiritual tour through the stations of the metro. Many of them are named for indigenous figures and places, but many sound like a trek through Milton’s Paradise Lost.
The spiritual tour to the Sao Paulo Art Museum (MASP).
The main metro line for us that day was from Jabaquara to Tucuruvi, beginning at Sao Judas. This seems to be Sao Judas Tadeu who is the patron saint of desperation and lost causes. It is humbling, but appropriate, to start your journey with the patron saint who understands Sao Paulo traffic.
Actually the next stop earlier is Conception (Conceicao). This a obviously a good place to begin, but who has time for that on the metro.
On some days I would rather start with my favorite patron saint, Santo Expedito. He is also a patron for lost causes and tough times, but as the name implies (expedite!), he is the saint for getting things done. Now.
Santo Expedito should be the patron saint of Sao Paulo which is the largest, busiest, and most hectic of Brazilian cities. Getting things done in a hurry — the specialty of Santo Expedito — is the mirage of city traffic here.
Unfortunately, though, this expeditious saint does not have his own metro station
Along the way are stops for “Health”(Saude), Paradise (Paraiso) with a few others of less mystical meaning. I think you transfer at Paradise to get to the museum, but if you miss it you end up at the stop named Consolacao (Consolation). This makes some cosmic sense, but I didn’t get there until later in the day.
The reverse trip takes you back toward Jabaquara to your home base of Sao Judas
A wrong connection will get you to places that actually sound like places — e.g, Vila Madalena, which I fantasize might be named after Mary Magdalen. It seems to have the same origin in the Hebrew name of Mary of Magdala and is the root for Madeline and many related names. On the Sao Paulo metro the biblical origin seems appropriate.
Another wrong stop will put you in Anhangabau, one of the many areas given indigenous names. It’s a lovely place to be, but you may want call on the patron saint of lost causes to get you home.
Another spiritual option is to take the advanced yoga line to Liberation (Liberdade). However, as yogis know, this is a long trip and it takes years of practice to get your body and spirit there at the same time.
The Museum
MASP, Museum of Art of Sao Paulo, this day had an exhibition of “French Art: From Delalcroix to Cezanne.” What was unique about it is that it was based on the collection from MASP and not a compilation of pieces from other museums and collections.
From this exhibition format you could clearly see that MASP started late in acquiring art work. What was unusual was the way the exhibition documented the process and politics of that acquisition period.
The museum opened its documents from the period of acquisition (beginning after World War II and running headlong into the art markets during the 1950s). They displayed letters to and from art dealers, lists of contributors for some of the acquisitions, and even the letter of one representative insisting that they would buy a fairly insignificant Manet (a vanity portrait of a lion hunter) if they were given access to more interesting work by other French artists.
One name was prominent above all others — Assis Chateaubriand. He was the benefactor and a major founder of MASP. He became what they like to call a “media mogul” in the 1950s and for two or three decades was the most powerful owner of media in the country. He is understood to have been a pivotal force in bringing television to Brazilian.
In the period just after World War II much European art was relatively available as Europe entered its recovery. Chateaubriand was able to lead acquisition efforts through various agencies (notably an art dealer named Knoedel in New York). He began to populate the new museum with art pieces by major French impressionists and others. As a powerful force in media and politics, Chateaubriand was also able to get contributions from other wealthy Brazilians. There are legends about how he used his information and media power to encourage other wealthy Brazilians and public figures to contribute to his art projects.
Documents from the files of MASP show the correspondence of the museum’s agents with art dealers. They give insight into the acquisition struggle and even list, for some pieces, the amount of money each contributor gave.
Chateaubriand was by far the greatest contributor.
His alleged media hegemony continued until about 1960, after which his health failed, and his dissipating media empire was replaced by the current media giant O Globo.
The unusual format of the exhibition had some other surprises.
There are richer collections of Renoir in other museums, but one piece in this collection has a unique and sad story.
“Pink and Blue” – the Cohen Sisters of d’Anvers, 1881 is a shimmering, luminous, dual portrait. The two Cohen sisters are shown standing in sparkling dresses, one in pink and the other in blue. Alongside the painting is a transport list to Auschwitz showing the name of one of the Cohen sisters (the one in blue). There was no record of her being seen again.
According to the story, the list was given to Renoir by the niece of the girl in blue, perhaps the daughter of the younger girl on the left.
In another setting there is a letter from an agent of Chateaubriand agreeing to buy a minor Manet (a portrait of a thuggish man with a large gun and a dead lion – probably painted as a vanity portrait). The letter clarifies that they are willing to buy this dullish piece only to insist on buying the better pieces of the dealer – by Braque and others.
Modigliani and Rivera. The display had other unusual documentation — such as a letter from Diego Rivera describing his portrait session with Modigliani.
Many international artists visited Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo in Mexico City during the peak of their artistic and political influence. At some point in this period they were leaders in the Mexican left and friends of the Russian revolutionary Leon Trotsky who was in exile from Russia. There are several films and books about this period that are based on their relationship with Trotsky (which lasted until 1940 when Trotsky was killed by a Stalinist assassin (in Coyoacan, now a suburb of Mexico City).
The relationship of Rivera and Frida Kalho with these political events made them a major attraction for artists and celebrities from abroad. Modigliani was one of the visitors and he made an unusual portrait of Rivera that is in the collection of MASP in Sao Paulo
Cezanne and the American abolitionists. In the late 1860s Cezanne painted a picture of a black slave leaning on a white object that evokes a bale of cotton. Nearby the museum was displayed an image from 1863 in the United States — a famous photo by McPherson & Oliver of a “slave with scourged back.” The photo appeared in Harper’s magazine depicting a man known as “Gordon” with a brutally scarred back. The photo became an important visual image in the fight against slavery in the United States and was widely circulated in Europe.
Cezanne almost certainly knew of the McPherson & Oliver photo it is plausible that he used it as inspiration for his painting.
Just for reference:
Brazil abolished slavery in 1888 (25 years after the U.S.)
The American Emancipation Proclamation was 1863. The following year brought the 13th Constitutional amendment which formally institutionalized the abolition of slavery.
Serfdom was abolished in Russia in 1861
A day of free admission brings an large and diverse crowd to the museum. This was one of those days and the museum was crowded with young students in uniforms identifying their schools. One group of about ten young people recognized that I was probably not from around there and gathered around me, wondering if I would speak English with them. They were a bit disappointed to find out that Simone was from Sao Paulo and that I spoke Portuguese (more or less). To appease their disappointment, I spoke “real” English with them for a few minutes until their teacher ushered them along to the next Manet (the dull one with the lion hunter, I think).
I often marvel at the openness and friendliness of Brazilians and wonder if a similar group of American students would chase down a foreigner in a museum to just try their language skills.
We have even had this experience in the market where a man and woman stopped us to tell us that we were an “interesting couple” and wondered where we were from — again being curious about a tall gringo and a Paulistana (woman from Sao Paulo) wandering about buying mangoes, squeezing papayas, and looking for tofu (see earlier post).
The experience with Brazilian students reminds me of my years traveling in the former East Germany, just at the time it ceased to be the socialist German Democratic Republic and became part of unified Germany. Travel was open by 1992/1993, but it was still a novelty to find an American “class enemy” wandering around. It was even stranger to them to find one who spoke German. Even though the East Germans could see American television series that were syndicated and broadcast from West Germany, their second language was usually Russian and not English. So actually talking to an American was a novelty.
Since I was sponsored by the Fulbright Foundation and gave a number of lectures and talks around Germany, I was a bit of a curiosity. In the East German case they were not at all sure they could talk to me — open discussion was not the norm even among good friends and family because the society was penetrated by thousands upon thousands of informants. When I asked one group of schoolteachers why they were so reserved around me, one told me I was like a person from Mars. They had heard for years about the militarist, fascist, West and they were surprised that I seemed so, well, normal. Finding such a person walking around loose was unusual for them — just as I apparently was to the Brazilian school kids.