Sacred Hearts

Day Two on my museum/gallery tour and I ventured out to the Sacred Arts Museum, a delight for the religious, but I must admit that for this Catholic, it was a bit full-on with the sombre black-clad workers. There were so many there in fact, that me and the only other visitor were completely outnumbered in each corridor we walked in. Although I can’t say that I felt alone with the largest collection I have ever seen of 17th and 18th century statues, altar pieces and paintings, gathered from schools, churches and convents all over Brazil, leftovers from the Portuguese crusade to covert its colonised.

In the adjoining building was also the quirkiest exhibition I have seen on my travels yet – an international show of nativity scenes, with one that took up a whole room and had the entire town of Bethlehem included. Also worth a mention, was the chandelier display, which is said to be second only to HQ: Rome.

Next on my list was the Pinoteca down the road, which also emerged as a dark horse, despite having no mention of it in Lonely Planet (yes, I have a long list of faults ready to send through to them). Housed in a beautifully restored red brick building, it is based around two central atriums connected through a iron walkway in the middle, and its inspiring collection did much to take away the thought of the drizzle falling outside.

An interesting exhibition “Paisagem e Panoramas” contained views of Rio, Recife and other early established coastal cities, minus the Christ of course. Upstairs was devoted to early Brazilian artists, and I had to show heaps of respect to the gallery for not bowing down to the European ‘masters’ and for paying attention to how their own country had progressed.

Again there were lots of bored employees sitting in corners and leaning against walls, watching my every move, but I started to get used to the prying eyes, taking it like the paintings would. Sadly there were no translations anywhere, and although my reading is getting better, I was glad to find a huge collection of portraiture just to look at. The main room was quirkily set up with the men on one wall, staring across at the women on the wall directly opposite them. In true Brazilian fashion, they weren’t in date order, but I was entertained for a while trying to guess what came first and when.

I obviously made good timing too, as the loud Paulistano ladies of leisure arrived just as I was leaving to take some lunch in the café next door. It was still spitting rain, but an “artist” in the park kept me entertained by well-intentioned scribblings that weren’t having much luck with the tourists. Perhaps someone should have shown him the difference between reality and abstraction.