Minas Gerais, located in central-ish Brazil, is rich in natural beauty and resources, home to some of Brazil's most prized coffee, its finest cachaça, and fresh mineiro cheese. It's a part of Brazil that starkly contrasts the unrelenting flatness and heat of Pará, and it provided a much-welcome several destinations in a vacation from the north country.
Belo Horizonte
The highlight of Belo Horizonte, the metropolitan capital of Minas Gerais, wasn't in its relatively generous craft beer selection and mercifully cool weather. Okay, it was partly those things. But what far outshone the lakefront, samba, and enormous city park was simply the warmth and hospitality of the family with whom we stayed. The privilege of being invited into the mundane lives of normal people is such a greater pleasure for me than an elevator ride to a great view of the skyline, or a sample of gourmet local food and drink. It was this family's principle of sempre cabe mais um—you can always fit one more—that made Belo Horizonte truly special. I made friends with people I never would have, and relished in the energy of feeling truly interesting to other people. It was in the just hanging out, the making up songs, the endless jokes—few of which I actually felt comfortable laughing at—that I felt I was most experiencing the life of Belo Horizonte.
The highlight of Belo Horizonte, the metropolitan capital of Minas Gerais, wasn't in its relatively generous craft beer selection and mercifully cool weather. Okay, it was partly those things. But what far outshone the lakefront, samba, and enormous city park was simply the warmth and hospitality of the family with whom we stayed. The privilege of being invited into the mundane lives of normal people is such a greater pleasure for me than an elevator ride to a great view of the skyline, or a sample of gourmet local food and drink. It was this family's principle of sempre cabe mais um—you can always fit one more—that made Belo Horizonte truly special. I made friends with people I never would have, and relished in the energy of feeling truly interesting to other people. It was in the just hanging out, the making up songs, the endless jokes—few of which I actually felt comfortable laughing at—that I felt I was most experiencing the life of Belo Horizonte.
Inhotim
Imagine a contemporary art muesum sprinkled across acres of green space, lending something to the experience of Inhotim rarely found in a traditional curated collection: time to pause and reflect between the richness of art. Anyone who has been to an art museum (and liked it) is familiar with the first "breath" upon entering the museum, where everything is fresh and new, and full of spirit. But, if the museum is of any decent size, and one spends too much of one's precious attention too early in the visit, little is left after about an hour. It's a kind of aesthetic burnout, and as important as everything still seems toward the end of the visit, an exhausted mind and spirit are in no shape to adequately receive what has been left there by the artist.
Now, I have no idea if anyone had aesthetic burnout in mind when designing Inhotim, but it was the perfect response to an age-old problem. With minutes and minutes of walking space between small exhibits and installations, we could give ourselves to be completely swallowed up by a mural spanning from floor to ceiling, say, or rays of illuminated wire stretching across a pitch-dark room, or an octagonal hut with mirrors for walls. After, we could walk along the lakeside, or up a hill along a path, and contemplate the experience before the next one had time to overwhelm. Inhotim was a truly unique way to experience both art and nature, and we all could have stayed hours longer. But the time had come to move on, and move on we did.
Imagine a contemporary art muesum sprinkled across acres of green space, lending something to the experience of Inhotim rarely found in a traditional curated collection: time to pause and reflect between the richness of art. Anyone who has been to an art museum (and liked it) is familiar with the first "breath" upon entering the museum, where everything is fresh and new, and full of spirit. But, if the museum is of any decent size, and one spends too much of one's precious attention too early in the visit, little is left after about an hour. It's a kind of aesthetic burnout, and as important as everything still seems toward the end of the visit, an exhausted mind and spirit are in no shape to adequately receive what has been left there by the artist.
Now, I have no idea if anyone had aesthetic burnout in mind when designing Inhotim, but it was the perfect response to an age-old problem. With minutes and minutes of walking space between small exhibits and installations, we could give ourselves to be completely swallowed up by a mural spanning from floor to ceiling, say, or rays of illuminated wire stretching across a pitch-dark room, or an octagonal hut with mirrors for walls. After, we could walk along the lakeside, or up a hill along a path, and contemplate the experience before the next one had time to overwhelm. Inhotim was a truly unique way to experience both art and nature, and we all could have stayed hours longer. But the time had come to move on, and move on we did.
Tiradentes
In the short time we spent there, the historic town offered little more than this landscape and a bed-and-breakfast run by Tatiana and her husband, a couple from Rio de Janeiro who remembered our names and sent us off with a completely local and/or home-made spread of fresh cheese, juice, bread, coffee, and other delights. That was enough to make Tiradentes worth it. As is said in Portuguese: Valeu a pena.
In the short time we spent there, the historic town offered little more than this landscape and a bed-and-breakfast run by Tatiana and her husband, a couple from Rio de Janeiro who remembered our names and sent us off with a completely local and/or home-made spread of fresh cheese, juice, bread, coffee, and other delights. That was enough to make Tiradentes worth it. As is said in Portuguese: Valeu a pena.