Beam Me Back to Brigadoon, Scotty!
No, not the one in the misty Highlands of Scotland, but an enchanted place of my own choosing. Can it be done, you think? I started mulling over this idea yesterday after I went downtown to see the "Roberto Burle Marx 100 Years" exhibition. I walked through spaces filled with paintings, paintings on fabric, glass sculptures, jewelry, gigantic tapestries, tile panels in myriad colors, drawings, models, until I found what I was looking for: his magnificent landscape designs. Then I sat quietly for a very long time, eyes riveted on large flat TV screens. It was closing time when I left the museum in a rather dreamy state. Oh, how I wish I could live surrounded by any one of those dozens of gardens he created for wealthy homeowners in Brazil and abroad.
Still on the subject of magical places, I've been taking an inventory of my visits to remote corners of Brazil. I've always said that what I like most about this country is the interior; I'm not particularly fond of cities here (apart from Rio and São Paulo). And I've decided that my favorite spot is the awe-inspiring wilderness called Jalapão, in the central-northern state of Tocantins. I remember the camp by a pristine river, the long treks through scrubland to see 30-meter high dunes or a waterfall that looked like a miniature Iguaçu, the 800-meter climb to the top of a mesa to take in the breathtaking view; and how cold the rain was, surprisingly. And the best part: less than one human being per square kilometer! Anyway, as we were walking out of the museum, my friend asked me: So, have you picked your garden yet? I told her I was just going home to get my checkbook... Seriously, though, if I can't have my private Burle Marx oasis, then perhaps take me back to this particular locale?
My photo credit: I was blissfully unaware that a young man from Brasília was taking photographs as I stood there. I wish I could credit him, but I didn't keep his e-mail and I don't remember his name. To see more of my own pics, go to Jalapão.
The Burle Marx show at the Paço Imperial runs through March 22 and it's worth a trip to Rio, I promise!
Still on the subject of magical places, I've been taking an inventory of my visits to remote corners of Brazil. I've always said that what I like most about this country is the interior; I'm not particularly fond of cities here (apart from Rio and São Paulo). And I've decided that my favorite spot is the awe-inspiring wilderness called Jalapão, in the central-northern state of Tocantins. I remember the camp by a pristine river, the long treks through scrubland to see 30-meter high dunes or a waterfall that looked like a miniature Iguaçu, the 800-meter climb to the top of a mesa to take in the breathtaking view; and how cold the rain was, surprisingly. And the best part: less than one human being per square kilometer! Anyway, as we were walking out of the museum, my friend asked me: So, have you picked your garden yet? I told her I was just going home to get my checkbook... Seriously, though, if I can't have my private Burle Marx oasis, then perhaps take me back to this particular locale?
My photo credit: I was blissfully unaware that a young man from Brasília was taking photographs as I stood there. I wish I could credit him, but I didn't keep his e-mail and I don't remember his name. To see more of my own pics, go to Jalapão.
The Burle Marx show at the Paço Imperial runs through March 22 and it's worth a trip to Rio, I promise!
posted by Sheila Thomson at
10:36 AM
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