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Tiradentes:
A Colonial Gem
By C.M.
Knighten
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.July
2006
| Don't
think Brazil is only good for beaches and the Amazon. Nestled in
the rural foothills of the Serra do São José is Tiradentes;
a sophisticated, rustic, original gold rush town in the countryside of
Minas Gerais.
With sunlight
beaming across my face through the semi-parted curtains of the bus, I awake,
sit forward, and peer through my tinted window. As we wind down a
two-way lane highway, weaving between steep, green, closely huddled mountains,
the hillsides are spotted with herds of cattle and sprinkled with horses.
Relaxation comes over me as we descend into Tiradentes, a well-preserved
market town frozen in the 1800's.
The buildings
are no more than two stories high and still hold to their original colonial
dimensions. With weathered terracotta roofs on top of whitewashed
walls of adobe brick, they are trimmed in colours ranging from blue and
yellow to maroon. These handsome, stately buildings extend up a hillside
and cluster around the gracefully decorated baroque church of Matriz de
Santo.
The narrow,
uneven cobbled roads, lined with craftwork shops, stores, restaurants and
pousadas (a Brazilian Inn), are paved in stones, the clay crusted in the
cracks giving the streets a dirty rust hue. Scattered about everywhere
are horses and carriages.
Situated next
to the magnificent Serra do São José, a thin, ridge of a
mountain range that stretches out behind the town, Tiradentes is surrounded
by abundant, lush vegetation. There are trees with long, over-hanging
branches filled with yellow, red, magenta, purple, and peach coloured flowers.
The lively vegetation has a vibrant presence that gives off a slight tropical
feel.
The town
astounds me–they don't come more charming, elegant, or cozy than this.
A colonial gem.
After having
lived in Rio de Janeiro for more than three years, I didn’t know that a
place like this existed in Brazil. Or, should I say, I never believed
the things so many Brazilians have told me about this lovely town.
History
More than
one hundred years before California and Australia, Minas Gerais’s gold
rush had the reputation of being crazy, wild, and violent. When explorers
found gold in the riverbeds flowing from the surrounding mountains in 1695,
Brazilians and Portuguese headed out to Ouro Prêto, São João
del Rei, and Tiradentes in large numbers. By 1698 Minas Gerais had
the largest deposits of Gold in the Western Hemisphere. Naturally,
the initial waves of immigrants were attracted to these gold rush towns.
Portuguese
King Dom João V claimed a royal fifth in tax as soon as the news
got out that gold fever was spreading fast. Tax shirkers were cast
into dungeons or exiled to Africa. Conflicts arose from the beginning,
and the greed of the Portuguese led to sedition.
Towards the
end of the eighteenth century, a group of townsmen in Tiradentes, originally
called Arrail da Ponta do Morro (Hamlet on a Hilltop), became involved
in a conspiracy against the Portuguese tax policies and colonial rule.
Joaquim José da Silva Xavier (nicknamed Tiradentes or Tooth-Puller
for his dentistry skills), was the presumed leader of this group called
Inconfidência Mineira. Agents of the Portuguese crown stamped
out this rebellion soon after its beginning. Tiradentes was hanged, drawn,
and quartered in Rio de Janeiro. His remains were then exposed and left
on the street for all to witness. Later, he was elevated to the status
of principal martyr of the country's independence.
Today the blue
sky is wide and expansive and the scorching sun almost touchable.
Now and then, a refreshing, crisp breeze passes through the town.
After reading up on the history, I take advantage of the weather and head
to the Largo das Forras (the main square of town). Designed by the
renowned Brazilian landscape architect Robert Burle Max, the square is
the major centre of activity in town.
There are shops
with typical, local craftwork, restaurants full of people, with tables
spilling out onto the sidewalk, ice cream shops, and clothing stores.
Adjacent to the square, there is a row of horse and buggies. The
drivers give speaking tours of the historical sites, rides through out
the town, or if you stay close enough they'll even give you a ride back
to your pousada.
Walking in
and out of the craft shops, I see carved and colorfully painted porcelain
figures, copper pots, homemade woven blankets typical of the region, cutlery,
colorful rugs, and vases among other items. Strolling by the restaurants,
the town is so quiet that I hear the cutlery of customers scraping the
plates and the low buzz of their conversation.
Upper-class
Brazilians drive up here from Rio, Belo Horizonte, and São Paulo,
so everyone in the town is nicely dressed–– most of them wearing jeans,
sweaters, jackets, and rugged hiking boots. But every thirty minutes
or so, mixed in with the sophisticated atmosphere, is an African folkloric
presence. The Associação do Congadeiros de Oliveira,
a group of male percussionist, calls everyone's attention, as they walk
through the street playing their traditional African based rhythm.
I head away
from the Largo dos Forras towards the small hill where I leisurely walk
through the crisscrossing narrow streets and alleys. In the Rua Direita
I discover plush art galleries, posh furniture stores stacked with finely
crafted wooden pieces, and the more refined restaurants such as the Toledo.
With a candle lit room, hard wood floors, and tables draped with white
clothes, its atmosphere is old and rustic, while at the same time modern,
hip, and stylish. Up until the last decades of the nineteenth century,
the majority of towns and cities in Brazil had a Rua Direita. It
was the street that held the largest concentration of the town's commercial
activities. The town centre is basically devoted to tourism, and
it is not until you reach the outskirts that you see any signs of permanent
life; this is where the lower classes live.
My pousada,
Xica da Silva, is designed as a Colonial estate and falls in line with
the town's ambience, complete with a wooden front gate. Although
classified as a pousada, Xica da Silva has the appearance and design of
a farm. At first sight, I think the building is an original structure
from the colonial period. The outside walls are painted in white
and trimmed in blue. The inside is decorated with colonial style
furniture and arranged according to the tastes and styles of the 1800's.
It's adorned with all the trimmings–antique chairs and coffee tables, vases,
curio stands with ornaments inside, china on the wall, Venetian carpets,
and glass cabinets with figurines.
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Continued From Above -
In the downward
sloping backyard of the pousada, there is a pool with a gazebo next to
it. Around the rest of the premises, there are a host of animals
- horses, cows, a group of Angolan chickens, waddling ducks, hopping rabbits,
and peacocks.
Every morning,
as in the majority of pousadas in Tiradentes, a Brazilian country breakfast
is spread out on top of a rectangle island counter; you find chocolate
cake, cheesecake, fruit cake, lemon cake, cheese bread, cookies, granola,
freshly squeezed orange juice, sliced cheese, slice ham and turkey lunch
meat, bread rolls, scrambled eggs, bacon, coffee, and tea. Along
with this comes an assortment of homemade jellies, ranging from strawberry
to kiwi. All the food is homemade with love by the dona da pousada
(the wife of the couple that owns the pousada).
The dono da
pousada (the husband), named Caesar, is the maitre d' and oversees the
quality of the specialized, personal treatment they give their customers.
And if the customers desire, he takes specific orders outside of the regular
food that is being offered.
When I approach
Caesar, a medium height, white man with a healthy belly, a round, inviting
face, grey hair, and grey stubble on his cheek, he's too busy to speak
and we set up a meeting after the serving of the soup at 9:00 pm.
Before that, he serves tea around 6:00 pm. They don’t prepare any
food for lunch because that's the most important meal in Brazil.
And the customers, the majority being Brazilian, normally eat out at one
of the restaurants in town.
Caesar founded
the pousada more than twenty years ago, when Tiradentes was gaining momentum
from it's revival, which effectively began in the early 1970's. Proud
of the name of their pousada, Caesar, and his wife Franisca constructed
it as an obvious tribute to the controversial Brazilian figure. Somewhat
of a myth, Xica da Silva, who was of black and white origin, lived in Diamantina,
Minas Gerais during the seventeenth century and overcame social exclusion
as a light-skinned black woman.
After Caesar
gives me the name of the company that can take care of my needs, Lazer
& Aventura, I take the time to delve into other issues I have on my
mind.
"I get the
feeling I'm in a getaway for the upper class, " I said.
Caesar raises
his eyebrows, smirks, shrugs his shoulders, and rubs his thumb and forefinger
together nodding his head.
"Last year
for the food festival, that will start next week in fact, the Inverno Cultural
UFSJ, the majority of my clients for that week came by helicopter.
So, that shows you how it is."
Apparently,
this revival has caused friction in the past between the new proprietors
and the residents that live in the outlying rural areas. This poorer
population provides the majority of the manpower for these companies, and
resents the newcomers, such as Cesar, making money out of them. The
locals feel marginalized and disenfranchised, despite the fact that
they too benefit from this financial investment.
The company,
Lazer & Aventura, does ecotourism excursions, but also has connections
to guides that give historical tours. So, I arrange one of these
first and leave the trek to the top of the Serra do São José
for later on in the week.
Eighteenth
century prosperity bequeathed to the town it's gracefully decorated baroque
churches, stately public buildings, and handsome private homes. The
new founded gold and riches brought the services of baroque artisans to
Ouro Preto, São João del Rei, and Tiradentes. The most
important of them all was Aleijadinho, known as the Michelangelo of Brazil.
As a sculptor and architect, Aleijadinho, the foremost Brazilian baroque
artist, helped turn these cities into architectural gems. Even though
he lost use of his hands and legs at the age of 30, he strapped a chisel
and a hammer to his arms and created some of the finest baroque and rococo
architecture.
My guide, Aurélio,
is a short, medium sized man, with dark, olive coloured skin and a big
inviting smile. Before setting off, he explains the itinerary to
me.
In Tiradentes
we plan to see the Chafariz de São José (The public fountain),
Matriz de Santo Antonia (The Parish Church of Saint Anthony), and Nossa
Senhora do Rosârio dos Pretos (The Church of Our Lady of the Rosary),
and the Museu Padre Toldeo (The Father Toledo House).
Then, I'll
take the historical train named Maria Fumaça to São João
del Rei, while hAurelio drives and meets me there. Next, we plan
to visit São Francisico de Assis (The Church of Saint Francis of
Assisi), and Matriz de Nossa Senhora do Pilar (The Parish Church of Our
Lady of the Pillar).
The Chafariz
de São João is locate near to the Largo das Forras, Completed
in 1749, crystal-clear, drinkable water, which comes from a spring located
seven hundred meters away, still shoots from the fountain. The water
is tapped from the slopes of the Serra do São José and channeled
through a partially covered aqaqueduct, which was built by slaves.
The water constantly spurts out of the three gargoyles heads and the coat
of arms of Portugal adorns the top. Around the fountain are low walls
designed to keep horses and mules from contaminating the water.
The Museu Padre
Toledo is located high on a hill in the historical district. Aurélio
says that the house belonged to Father Carlos Correa de Toledo and Melo,
parish vicar from 1777 to 1789. It's known to be the scene of the
secret meetings held by the Inconfidência Mineira 1789. The
house is a spacious late eighteenth century dwelling and shows the prosperity
of that period.
Inside, there
are adornments such as impressive stonework castings, and a number of ceiling
paintings. The slave quarters are located underneath the house, where the
ground is still lined with the packed-in, hardened dirt the slaves slept
upon.
Not far from
the Museu Padre Toledo sits one of the gems of Brazilian baroque architecture,
the Matriz de Santo Antônio. It is white, trimmed with yellow,
and was reformed in 1810 based on a project drawn up by Antônio Francisco
Lisboa, otherwise known as Aleijadinho-the altar is glorious. Noted
for its harmonious symmetry and rich ornamental detail, the sacristies
are adorned with paintings by Manuel Vitor de Jesus, woodcarvings, and
an impressive silver collection. The gilded woodcarvings in the chancel
arch and the chair reflect a substantial rococo influence.
The church
Nossa Senhora do Rosario dos Pretos is located around the corner from Matriz
do Santo Antônio set back from the Rua Direita. The Brotherhood
of Our Lady of the Rosemary, whose members consisted of black slaves and
freedmen, erected the church. Constructed entirely of cut-stone,
the façade is white and it trimmed in stone. In front,
there is a stone-paved square flanked with trees. Inside, there are
altars that feature representations of black saints. The ceiling
painting depicts the mysteries of Rosary painted by Manuel Vitor de Jesus.
Aurélio says that all the gold used to gild the altar was stolen
from the Matriz do Santo Antônio by the black men that worked on
the construction.
On my way to
São João del Rei, the Maria-Fumaça winds over a narrow
gauge railway, alongside the Serra do São José, which is
twelve kilometers in extension. For train enthusiast, the half-hour
trip is a voyage back to the nineteenth century. Inaugurated by the
Brazilian Emperor Peter II in 1881, the Maria Fumaça, which is motored
by restored Baldwin Locomotives, only caters to tourist. However, in the
past, it was an important transport through out the outlying farming areas.
Now, it's restricted to the leg between Tiradentes and São João
del Rei.
The early history
of São João del Rei is similar to that of Tiradentes.
Still to this day, there is a healthy rivalry that exists between the towns.
However, whereas Tiradentes remained undeveloped, São João
del Rei blossomed economically throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries. 1842, it became the temporary capital of Minas Gerais
and was indisputably the most important commercial entrepôt in the
entire, vast Brazilian interior. oday, São João del
Rei's lovely colonial centre is smothered in the mist of a modern second
city and suffers from the encroachment of unsightly and distasteful landmarks
of urban development.
Completed in
1774, the church São Francisico de Assis was financed by the Brotherhood
of Saint Francis of Assis, the most exclusive and prestigious social organization
in Brazil during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Only those
of pure white descent could aspire to membership. However, the elite
had to turn to the mulatto master sculptor and builder, Aleijadinho, who
designed the architectural plans and sculpturing of various exterior and
interior features. The participation of mixed race and black artist,
in the construction of churches and public buildings, was practically universal
in Colonial Minas.
São
Francisco de Assis is heralded as the epitome of churches that were constructed
in the final phases of Brazilian baroque. Richly stylized, the stonework
and masonry rounded towers and façade giving a bull's eye window
is a trademark that culminated in the elegant style of Minas Gerais.
The churchyard is paved in cobblestone and includes manicured flowerbeds
and shrubbery, as well as two rows of stately imperial palm trees.
The Matriz de Nossa Senhora do Pilar was initiated in 1721 and completed
during the decade of 1750. The interior is replete with images of
nineteen different saints. he mulatto artist, Manoel Vitor de Jesus
was responsible for a number of paintings. Because Matriz de Nossa Senhora
do Pilar is the seat of a bishopric, it is also designed as a cathedral.
When Marcello,
my guide from Lazer & Aventura, arrives at Xica da Silva to pick me
up for the walk to the top of the Serra do José, a thick fog hovers,
covering Tiradentes below. Marcello assures me that by the time we
reach the top, it will have burned away. We drive to the outskirts
of the city and park the van next to a cobble road preparing to walk.
As we do, the sun indeed beats down upon us and burns away the fog.
We arrive at
what's called a Calçada - a track that was paved by slaves using
big slabs of rocks to make the climb easier. The slabs are slippery,
made so by the abundance of rain and clay. Along the way, Marcello
points out the historical, geological, and environmental facts making the
outing more than just a simple hike. Once at the top, we can see
over the side of the ridge, out into the expanding pasture, and Tiradentes.
The only sound is the breeze shifting directions about us.
On my last
day I sleep until four O'clock, get up, take a shower, get dressed, and
walk down to the Largo das Forras. After traversing the town again,
replaying my whole trip, not believing that I walked to the top of the
Serra do São José, I sit down at one of the restaurants and
order a choppe (a draft beer), and a plate of steak, rice, and French fries.
A typical Brazilian meal.
Before I know
it, a violet dusk drops over the town, the sun, serenely falling
towards the ridge of the mountain. A light, transparent darkness
sets in, bringing a chilly air with it. When I breathe out deeply,
I realize this is what Tiradentes, the town with an ancient countenance,
is all about. Brazilians told me to come here to relax, and for the
first time during my visit, I do.
.
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