Tuesday, 16 April 2013

SAO PAULO AFTER SOME TIME


Thursday morning April 4 2013

It was nice to be somewhere warm, warm at 05:20 in the morning. I stepped out of Sao Paulo airport and crossed the car park and into the arms of the hotel’s car. It was still just dark, and then it became lighter and the traffic heavier as we drove the twenty-five kilometres into the city along the expressway by side the Pinheiros River.

I am here to run a workshop, which was starting in seven hours, I was returning to one of my favourite cities. Again I sense the familiar of the city: of long lines of traffic, tall buildings and green trees. There were several new bridges across the river.



Rodeio Restaurant in the Jardin district
I was working in the Brooklyn area of the city, posh and full of energy. This area of town has a new bridge too, since I was here in 2008. From the office, thirty-two floors up I looked down onto the Octavio Frias de Oliveira. A road way suspended by wires. It consists of two constantly busy traffic lanes in wired independent curves of 60 º crossing the river. It is the only cable-stayed bridge in the world with two curved tracks connected to a same mast.  I counted another twelve or so lanes of traffic humming along close by.

I looked down onto the Octavio Frias de Oliveira. A road way suspended by wires.

Day one of the workshop completed there was a moment to freshen up before being ferried to the Rodeio Restaurant in the Jardin district. The place was empty but filling fast. This is the home of traditional Brazilian BBQ fare for the moneyed. The décor simple with walls adorned with lassos’, tethers and other rodeo paraphernalia. Exquisite steaks perfectly cooked were placed reverently in front of us and eaten with respect! Wonderful.

Saturday and we were heading back to Europe. Madrid.

Parish church of São João de Brito
An email brought me news of the death of my friend and printmaking tutor Christine Lock after a heroic battle against cancer. News that was not unexpected and demanded a visit to church. The Hotel concierge directed me to the Parish church of São João de Brito. It was a hard twenty-five minute walk to find it but worth every footstep.  The church looked like a yellow aircraft hanger from the street. Inside it was light and airy with a marble reredos that sweeps across the entire with of the church like a great curved wing (continuing the aeronautical theme).



Off the nave I found a small office-shop and someone who spoke a little English. And I explained about Christine, and leaving her name on a slip of paper they undertook to mention her in the Mass in the afternoon.
Requiem Aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetuae luceat eis. Requiescant in pace.
Amen