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Travel Stripe - November 2009

“There are days when history is made. Today, in the history of Italian Rugby, is one of them”. La Gazetta dello Sport, Milan, Saturday 14 November, 2009.

All Blacks' Haka at San Siro
The Haka at San Siro



With a crowd of 80,000 filling the iconic San Siro stadium, with the oval ball invading the hallowed ground of the round and with the All Blacks B team pitted against the experienced Blues, everything seems possible, especially historic moments.

The atmosphere is, to coin a cliché, electric, as the seats fill and the two teams warm up on the rectangle of green below. All the stars are out – the TV personalities, the politicians and the big names of Milan but they are all eclipsed by Jonah Lomu, who dominates the corner of the ground where he talks to a TV journalist at the centre of a circle of cameras.

As the band and singers assemble, the players leave the ground and Jonah makes his way like a juggernaut through the terraces, the mood intensifies. The crowd is on its feet, a bank of waving blue striped with black – confetti fills the air as the teams run onto the paddock and the roar of 80, 000 voices rolls on like thunder. There’s a sudden hush as the anthems begin. The soprano takes the Kiwis to heights we cannot scale. Our voices trail behind her like a thin baaa. On the other hand, led by former Rugbyman, the Italians’ singing shakes the stands. A collective shush follows the anthems. There’s a silence that can only be described as reverent. For Italy, the haka is a highlight of this historic San Siro day.


It’s a great beginning for the Italians who are soon on their feet, a sea of cheering, waving blue. However, it isn’t long before they’re on their feet again, arms thrown up in despair, wailing the classic Rugby lament “Non ci credo” (unbelievable), as their team throw away, or fail to seize, one opportunity after another. Half time brings the possibility of a rally but a pedantic referee steers the game relentlessly to a sorry end.

The Rugby Village at San Siro, November 14, 2009
The Villagio at San Siro


However, in Rugby there’s always the third half - that wonderful after-match time when the game is re-played in minute detail, the true heroes are identified, the real villain (the referee) is pilloried and the score is settled, once and for all, in the canvass bars of the Rugby Village.

If the first two halves of the game at San Siro were dull, the third half in the Villagio was not. Despite the Italian defeat, despite the indignity of that last long battle near a try-line so close yet so far away, everyone was determined to celebrate.

There to help both the All Black and the Italian fans to bury this game and to look forward to glorious Rugby days ahead was the Maori Tourism Council’s Project Manager for the 2011 World Cup, Nuk Korako. With representatives from Ngati Ranana (London’s famous Kapa Haka or Maori Culture group) he had traveled overland from London in the World Cup 2011 van. As I watched them all graciously posing for photo after photo with an endless stream of delighted Italians and proud expatriate Kiwis, I was reminded of those words from the old Maori Battalion Anthem “take the mana of the people with you” Nga mihi nui ki a koutou katoa. Kia ora hoki ki a koutou katoa. You made this day at San Siro an historic one for many of us after all.


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Ibirapuera Park, Sao Paolo

November 16th 2009 10:17
It’s a relatively short distance from Avenida Paolista down to Ibirapuera Park, but it’s a long journey, both in terms of the country it covers, and in terms of the land that lies at the end of it.

Ibirapuera Park, Sao Paolo
Ibirapuera, Sao Paolo's Central Park


Between the noisy, fast-paced, crowded, densely built-up avenue to the quiet green spaces of Ibirapuera lie the fenced wilds of Trianon Park, smart blocks lined with luxury hotels, mean streets lined with the cardboard shelters of the homeless, a perilous roundabout and a massive stone monument to the building of Brazil.

Monument to the building of Brazil, Sao Paolo
The monument to the building of Brazil


Ibirapuera Park is to Sao Paolo as Central Park is to New York – an escape to nature in the middle of the city. I visited it at dusk and its paths and tracks were still teeming with joggers, skaters and cyclists. Kids played on its vast lawns. Couples strolled by its lakes. Its car parks were still filled with tour buses and tourists’ cameras flashed desperately in the fading light.

Ibirapuera Park, Sao Paolo
The lake in Ibirapuera Park


Ibirapuera is one of many Brazilian parks and gardens designed by the prolific and multi-talented Ernesto Burle Marx, whose career as a sculptor, painter, designer and landscape architect spanned almost the entire 20th century. It is for his gardens, however, that he is best known. Featuring indigenous plants and trees, Burle Marx created landscapes that were truly Brazilian.

Ibirapuera Park, Brazil
Native Brazilian plants and trees in Ibirapuera Park


Burle Marx often collaborated with the patriarch of modern Brazilian architecture Oscar Niemeyer, creating a lush, green setting for his somewhat stark buildings, like the Museu Afro Brasil which sits against a tiny slice of rainforest in Ibirapruera Park.

Oscar Niemeyer's Museu Afro Brasil, Sao Paolo
Museu Afro Brasil

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MASP, or Museu de Arte de Sao Paolo, on Avenida Paolista, was one of the highlights of my visit to Sao Paolo. And the highlight of my visit to MASP was a small exhibition in its echoing subterranean gallery. It was showing a selection of works by Candido Portinari, one of Brazil’s most important and prolific painters.

Museu de Arte de Sao Paolo
The courtyard at MASP


Most of the works in the exhibition were narratives of old bible stories – The Justice of Solomon, The trumpets of Jericho, Jeremiah’s Lament, Job and The Massacre of the Innocents - classic scenes with universal themes. But the raw and blatent emotions of relief, triumph, suffering, despair, resignation and terror, vividly drawn in the lines of the figures and the faces brought something quite new and even shocking to them. Other works showed Portinari’s own country, life and times. In North Eastern Migrants, Dead Child and Burial in a Hammock nothing was spared of the bleak lives and dreadful deaths suffered by refugees from the drought and famine in the North-East of Brazil in the 1930s.

The son of Italian immigrants, Portinari was born on December 29, 1903 and raised on a coffee plantation at Brodowski, near Sao Paolo. He studied at the Escola Nacional de Belas Artes in Rio de Janeiro, where, in 1928, he won a gold medal and a scholarship to study in Paris.

Returning to Brazil in 1930, Portinari set about producing the huge and wide-reaching body of work which can be seen in galleries, both in Brazil and around the world. His murals range from the family chapel in his childhood home in Brodowski to his panels Guerra e Paz (War and Peace) in the United Nations building in New York. His paintings cover and enormous range of subjects; his childhood, labourers in the city and countrside, refugees from Brazil's north-east, colonial history, portraits of family and leading Brazilians, book illustrations and decorations for tiles.

In 1947, Portinari stood as a senator for the Brazilian Communist party but fled to Uruguay during the persecution of Communists that followed shortly after. He returned to Brazil in 1951. After a decade of ill health he died of lead poisoning from his paints in 1961.

Candido Portinari lived and worked in one of the most artistically fertile periods in Brazil’s history. His contemporaries included the architect Oscar Niemeyer, with whom he collaborated, as well as the great master of Brazilian gardens Burle Marx.
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Avenida Paolista, the hub of Sao Paolo

November 11th 2009 19:17
Twenty three kilometres of the Castelo Branco Highway link peaceful, sheltered Alphaville to frantic, edgy downtown Sao Paolo. Avenida Paolista is the main drag and the hub of South American commerce. It’s a parade of 21st century global business towers interspersed with the occasional beautiful colonial relic.

Avenida Paolista, Sao Paolo
The towers of Avenida Paolista

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Alphaville, a village in Sao Paulo

November 9th 2009 12:52
As our plane approaches Sao Paolo, my face is pressed to the window. The high-rise begins abruptly and continues. On and on it goes, mile after mile, row upon row of mammoth high-rise buildings, colossal concrete slabs, lined up like tombstones in a giant graveyard. If there are streets, cars and people in the narrow crevasses between them, they are lost, fathoms deep, in shadow. I’m struggling to imagine life down there, in that vast, harsh, unrelenting, cement and steel landscape. I’m struggling to imagine how Sao Paolo works as a city.

Alphaville, Sao Paolo
Alphaville

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