Like in most cities, Rio’s galleries are concentrated in its affluent neighborhoods. But artists like Maxwell Alexandre are trying to change that, hoping to “give access to what was previously the art of the bourgeoisie, something exclusive,” the 33-year-old said.
Alexandre grew up in the shantytown of Rocinha, Brazil’s second most populous favela, and where he opened the Pavilhao 2 display space last year. At the moment, he is exhibiting a collection of his own works that last year was on display at a gallery in the exclusive sixth arrondissement of Paris, France.
Entitled Entrega: one planet. one health, the exhibit includes paintings of daily life in Rocinha.
Photo: AFP
A series of three works shows children dressed in school uniforms carrying bags from a food delivery company: a commentary on pervasive child labor.
Another aim of Alexandre — who has also exhibited in Spain and the US — is to make favela residents art owners.
“I want people who live in the favela to see my work not only in the gallery but also at home,” he said.
Photo: AFP
Alexandre is selling his works at the below-market price of about 1,000 reais (US$200) apiece though even this may be a high ask of many.
ART POWER
The gallery also aims to draw visitors from outside, such as 45-year-old teacher Mariana Furlonis, who said: “It’s great, because art is usually very elitist.”
Alexandre acknowledges that most visitors do not come from the favela, whose impoverished inhabitants have other, more pressing priorities.
But though he is often advised to focus his efforts on such artistic hubs as Berlin or New York, Alexandre prefers to stay in Rio, where he says his creativity is inspired by the heat, the violence, the omnipresent poverty.
About 30 kilometers away, fellow artist Allan Weber, 31, opened a gallery in his childhood favela, Cinco Bocas, in 2020.
His works had recently been exhibited at the Miami contemporary art fair Art Basel.
Back in Rio, he uses his gallery to give exposure to lesser-known local artists.
“It’s a place of exchange between the favela and people who come from elsewhere,” he said.
His target clientele are people like himself who grow up without access to downtown museums, but also more affluent friends reluctant to visit the favelas, frequent targets of heavy-handed police operations.
“I spent all my childhood seeing weapons, and thanks to art, I was able to give them a new meaning,” Weber said.
One of his creations is an assault rifle made from camera parts.
‘NO PLACES LIKE THESE’
Since last September, Weber’s gallery has hosted an exhibition entitled “To de Pe” (I am standing) by 22-year-old Cassio Luis Brito da Silva.
The youngster’s creations include photos of evenings of “Baile funk,” a musical style born in the favelas, and sculptures made with cigarettes. Da Silva, a favela resident himself, said being exposed to the work of other artists at the gallery serves as an inspiration.
“It is wonderful to see people like me exhibit in this place,” he says.
At Cinco Bocas, Weber encourages visits from disadvantaged youngsters from the favela.
Cintia Santos de Lima, 35, says her autistic son has benefited from the initiative.
“Before, he didn’t want to go out. It is good for us because in the community there are no places like these.”
In 1990, Amy Chen (陳怡美) was beginning third grade in Calhoun County, Texas, as the youngest of six and the only one in her family of Taiwanese immigrants to be born in the US. She recalls, “my father gave me a stack of typed manuscript pages and a pen and asked me to find typos, missing punctuation, and extra spaces.” The manuscript was for an English-learning book to be sold in Taiwan. “I was copy editing as a child,” she says. Now a 42-year-old freelance writer in Santa Barbara, California, Amy Chen has only recently realized that her father, Chen Po-jung (陳伯榕), who
For anyone on board the train looking out the window, it must have been a strange sight. The same foreigner stood outside waving at them four different times within ten minutes, three times on the left and once on the right, his face getting redder and sweatier each time. At this unique location, it’s actually possible to beat the train up the mountain on foot, though only with extreme effort. For the average hiker, the Dulishan Trail is still a great place to get some exercise and see the train — at least once — as it makes its way
When nature calls, Masana Izawa has followed the same routine for more than 50 years: heading out to the woods in Japan, dropping his pants and doing as bears do. “We survive by eating other living things. But you can give faeces back to nature so that organisms in the soil can decompose them,” the 74-year-old said. “This means you are giving life back. What could be a more sublime act?” “Fundo-shi” (“poop-soil master”) Izawa is something of a celebrity in Japan, publishing books, delivering lectures and appearing in a documentary. People flock to his “Poopland” and centuries-old wooden “Fundo-an” (“poop-soil house”) in
Each week, whenever she has time off from her marketing job, Ida Jia can be found at Shanghai Disneyland queuing for hours to spend a few minutes with Linabell, a fluffy pink fox with big blue eyes. The 29-year-old does not go empty handed, bringing pink fox soft toys dressed in ornate custom-made outfits to show the life-sized character, as well as handmade presents as gifts. Linabell, which made its debut in Shanghai in 2021, is helping Disney benefit from a rapidly growing market in China for merchandise related to toys, games, comics and anime, which remained popular with teenagers and young