Moulin Rouge : A Gulosa, Paris, França (Moulin Rouge: La Goulue) - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

Moulin Rouge : A Gulosa, Paris, França (Moulin Rouge: La Goulue) - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
Paris - França
Indianapolis Museum of Art
Litografia - 190x116 - 1891

Moulin Rouge: La Goulue is a poster by French artist Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. It is a colour lithograph from 1891, probably printed in about 3,000 copies, advertising the famous dancers La Goulue and "No-Bones" Valentin, and the new Paris dance hall Moulin Rouge. Although most examples were pasted as advertising posters and lost, surviving examples are in the collection of the Indianapolis Museum of Art and many other institutions.

Moulin Rouge: La Goulue is a bold, four-color lithograph depicting the famous cancan dancer La Goulue and her flexible partner Valentine le désossé made to advertise the popular French club, Moulin Rouge. Their audience is reduced to silhouettes in order to focus attention on the performers and evoke the Japanese art then in vogue. The triple repetition of the club's name draws the focus down to the central figure of the poster, La Goulue herself. The stark white of her petticoats, depicted with just a few lines on the white paper, epitomizes Toulouse-Lautrec's boldly simplistic style, a sharp break from the text-heavy posters of the day.

The Moulin Rouge had opened two years earlier, in 1889, and instantly established itself as a Montmartre landmark. It was renowned for the elasticity of its young dancers, both physically and morally; police officers made periodic checks to ensure that they were all wearing underwear. However, the poster by Jules Chéret advertising the club's delights was relatively subdued, so the director Charles Zidler hired the young (only 27 years old) Toulouse-Lautrec to create a more vibrant poster.

Although Moulin Rouge: La Goulue was Toulouse-Lautrec's first attempt at lithography, such was his grasp of the medium's possibilities that it was an immediate sensation. 3000 copies spread around Paris captivated the public with their eye-catching design, bold colors, and innovative, Japanese-inspired use of silhouettes. Cannily focusing on the dancer La Goulue, whose energetic kicks and insatiable appetites had made her famous, gave the poster an additional boost in popularity. But it was Toulouse-Lautrec's own artistic skill that made him a star overnight.

Arranjo em Cinza e Preto nº2 ou Retrato de Thomas Carlyle (Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 2 or Portrait of Thomas Carlyle) - James McNeill Whistler

Arranjo em Cinza e Preto nº2 ou Retrato de Thomas Carlyle  (Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 2 or Portrait of Thomas Carlyle) - James McNeill Whistler
Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum Glasgow Escócia
OST - 171x143 - 1872-1873

Arrangement in Grey and Black, No. 2: Portrait of Thomas Carlyle is an 1872–73 oil painting by James McNeill Whistler. It depicts the Scottish social critic, philosopher and historian Thomas Carlyle in a composition similar to that of Whistler's Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1: Portrait of the Artist's Mother, painted in 1871. It is now in the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum in Glasgow, Scotland.

By the time he sat for Whistler, Thomas Carlyle had lived in Chelsea, London, for 47 years, and was one of its most recognized residents. He lived at 24 Cheyne Row, now Carlyle's House, which is preserved as a museum, very near to Lindsey House, now 96 Cheyne Walk, where Whistler had his studio. Accompanied by a mutual friend, Carlyle visited Whistler's studio, viewed the painting of the artist's mother, and according to Whistler "He liked the simplicity of it, the old lady sitting with her hands in her lap, and said he would be painted. And he came one morning soon, and he sat down, and I had the canvas ready, and my brushes and palette, and Carlyle said, 'And now, mon, fire away!'"

There exist four preparatory studies in oil, and several drawings related to the finished painting. Several sketches in the Freer Gallery of Art suggest that while Whistler based the composition on the painting of his mother, he also considered variations: a chalk drawing shows Carlyle seated at an angle to the wall, a corner of the room shown at left, and without the coat that would be thrown over his lap in the painting  In the painting Whistler reverted to the planar composition of Arrangement in Grey and Black: Portrait of the Artist's Mother, and included the robe that created a broader shape, reminiscent of the dress from the earlier picture. The canvas is slightly larger than that of the portrait of Mrs. Whistler, and is of a vertical format. Other differences include a subtle turn of the subject's head toward the viewer, and the shape caused by the bunching up of Carlyle's coat; these result in a mood of psychological disturbance that is quite different from the more static pose of his mother's portrait.

The composition with a profile figure painted in a range of dark tones is shared with the Portrait of the Artist's Mother, as is the over-riding concern with aesthetic arrangement, for all the two works' psychological penetration. Whistler painted the preeminent moral philosopher of his time as a nuanced study in shapes and colours.

Though Whistler had initially requested two or three sittings, Carlyle posed from 1872 into the summer of 1873. Several witnesses recounted Carlyle's stillness juxtaposed with Whistler's frenetic working movements, with the artist Hugh Cameron recalling "It was the funniest thing I ever saw. There was Carlyle sitting motionless, like a Heathen God or Oriental sage, and Whistler hopping about like a sparrow.

Years later Whistler wrote of Carlyle:

"He is a favorite of mine. I like the gentle sadness about him! -- perhaps he was even sensitive -- and even misunderstood -- who knows!"

Whistler's reference to sadness, and the sense of 'turbulence' in the characterization, may have reflected the remorse of Carlyle's later years, following the death of his wife Jane Welsh Carlyle in 1866. While sitting for Whistler, Carlyle wrote in his journal "More and more dreary, barren, base, and ugly seem to me all the aspects of this poor diminishing quack world." In 1891 Arrangement in Grey and Black, No. 2: Portrait of Thomas Carlyle became the artist's first painting to enter a public collection when it was purchased, at the insistence of the Glasgow Boys, by the City of Glasgow.

No Moulin Rouge, Paris, França (Au Moulin Rouge) - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

No Moulin Rouge, Paris, França (Au Moulin Rouge) - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
Paris - França
The Art Institute of Chicago
OST - 123x141 - 1892-1895

At the Moulin Rouge (French: Au Moulin Rouge) is an oil-on-canvas painting by French artist Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. It was painted between 1892 and 1895. It is one of a number of works by Toulouse-Lautrec depicting the Moulin Rouge cabaretbuilt in Paris in 1889; the others include At the Moulin Rouge, The Dance and the poster Moulin Rouge: La Goulue.

The painting portrays near its center a group of three men and two women sitting around a table situated on the floor of the cabaret. From right to left, the people at the table include: Édouard Dujardin, dancer La Macarona, photographer Paul Secau, and photographer Maurice Guibert. In the right foreground, apparently sitting at a different table is a partial profile, with her face lit in a distinctive light, is English dancer May Milton. In the background on the right is Moulin Rouge dancer La Goulue and a woman. The center-left background shows Toulouse-Lautrec himself, as well as Gabriel Tapié de Céleyran.

At the Moulin Rouge is owned by the Art Institute of Chicago as part of the Helen Birch Bartlett Memorial Collection, where it was first displayed on December 23, 1930. It was exhibited in London in 2011 at the Courtauld Institute of Art.

In At the Moulin Rouge Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec memorialized Parisian nightlife at the end of the nineteenth century. The painting is noted for its daring composition, dramatic cropping, and flat planes of strident color. A regular patron of the Moulin Rouge, one of the most famous cabarets of the Montmartre district, Toulouse-Lautrec here turned his acute powers of observation on the club’s other habitués. 

The flaming red-orange hair of the entertainer Jane Avril is the focal point of the central seated group. 

Preening in the greenish mirror in the background is the dancer La Goulue. 

The stunted figure of the aristocratic artist appears, as it often did in life, next to his devoted, much taller cousin, Dr. Gabriel Tapié de Céleyran. 

But it is the frozen, acid-green face of the dancer May Milton that dominates the canvas and haunts the action. 

The painting comprises two joined parts: a small main canvas and an L-shaped panel to the lower and right edges. The canvas was severed after the artist’s death, perhaps by his dealer (to make the composition less radical and more saleable), and restored sometime before 1914.

Arranjo em Cinza e Preto nº1 ou Retrato da Mãe do Artista (Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1 or Portrait of the Artist's Mother) - James McNeill Whistler

Arranjo em Cinza e Preto nº1 ou Retrato da Mãe do Artista (Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1 or Portrait of the Artist's Mother) - James McNeill Whistler
Museu d'Orsay Paris e Museu do Louvre Abu Dhabi
OST - 144x162 - 1871

Arranjo em Cinza e Preto nº1 ou Retrato da mãe do artista (original: Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1 ou Portrait of the Artist's Mother), famoso sob o seu nome coloquial a Mãe de Whistler (original: Whistler's Mother) de 1871 é uma pintura de óleo sobre tela, do pintor americano James McNeill Whistler. A pintura é 56,81 por 63,94 polegadas (144,3 x 162,4 centímetros), dispostas numa armação do próprio projecto de Whistler, e agora é propriedade do Musée d'Orsay, em Paris apesar de ocasionalmente fazer turnês mundiais. A pintura é um ícone da arte americana, apesar de raramente aparecer nos Estados Unidos.

Anna McNeill Whistler posou para a pintura, enquanto vivia em Londres com seu filho. Várias histórias inverificáveis cercam a realização da pintura em si: uma é que Anna Whistler teria substituido outro modelo que não poderia fazer a nomeação. Outra é que Whistler originalmente tinha previsto a pintura do modelo em pé, mas seria muito desconfortável colocar a mãe de pé por um período muito prolongado.

O trabalho foi apresentado na 104ª Exposição da Royal Academy of Art em Londres (1872), mas obteve rejeição por parte da Academia. Este episódio agravou o fosso entre Whistler e do mundo da arte britânica e seria a última pintura que apresentaria para aprovação da Academia.

As sensibilidades das audiências da era Vitoriana não aceitaria o que aparentemente seria um retrato a ser exibido como um "arranjo" simples, de modo que o explicativo título "Retrato de mãe do artista" foi acrescentado posteriormente. Foi a partir daqui que o trabalho adquiriu seu nome popular.

Depois de Thomas Carlyle ter visto a pintura, ele concordou em sentar-se por uma composição semelhante, sendo esta intitulada "Arranjo em Cinza e preto, n º 2".

A pintura foi adquirida em 1891 pelo Museu de Paris du Luxembourg e Whistler escreveu sobre o assunto:

"Basta pensar - para ir e olhar para a nossa própria imagem nas paredes do Luxemburgo - lembrando como tinha sido tratada em Inglaterra - a serem cumpridas em todos os lugares com deferência e respeito … e saber que tudo isso é um … tremenda tabefe na cara da Academia e do resto! Realmente é como um sonho."

Qualquer que seja o nível de afeto que Whistler sentia por sua própria mãe, encontrou-se um uso ainda mais divergente da imagem na era vitoriana e, posteriormente, especialmente nos Estados Unidos, como um ícone para a maternidade, afeição para os pais e "valores familiares" em geral. Por exemplo, em 1934 os correios dos EUA emitiram um carimbo com a imagem estilizada da pintura, acompanhada do slogan "em memória e em honra das Mães da América".

Mais tarde, a interpretação do público sobre o simbolismo da pintura foi ainda mais longe, e ela apareceu em uma infinidade de propagandas comerciais e paródias, como imagens manipuladas sobre o tema 'assistir televisão', entre muitos outros.

Arrangement in Grey and Black No.1, best known under its colloquial name Whistler's Mother, is a painting in oils on canvas created by the American-born painter James McNeill Whistler in 1871. The subject of the painting is Whistler's mother, Anna McNeill Whistler. The painting is 56.81 by 63.94 inches (144.3 cm × 162.4 cm), displayed in a frame of Whistler's own design. It is exhibited in Louvre Abu Dhabi and held by the Musée d'Orsay in Paris, having been bought by the French state in 1891. It is one of the most famous works by an American artist outside the United States. It has been variously described as an American icon and a Victorian Mona Lisa.

Anna McNeill Whistler posed for the painting while living in London with her son at Cheyne Walk, Chelsea.

Several unverifiable stories relate to the painting of the work; one is that Anna Whistler acted as a replacement for another model who couldn't make the appointment. It is also said that Whistler originally envisioned painting the model standing up, but that his mother was too uncomfortable to pose standing for an extended period.

Another story associated with the painting is that Whistler called upon his beautiful young neighbour, Helena Amelia Lindgren (1855-1931), of number 5, Lindsey Row, to sit in Anna's place when she grew too tired. Well into her old age, Helena talked of secretly modelling for Whistler, who was especially enamoured of her hands. According to a surviving letter of 1935 (now in the possession of Helena's great-great-grandson, David Charles Manners), Anna had first called on the Lindgrens to ask that Helena's older sister, Christina, be her stand-in. However, Christina's mother, Eliza Lyle née Warlters, forbade it. Ever a free spirit, Helena secretly offered herself instead and modeled for the portrait without her mother's knowledge.[citation needed]

The work was shown at the 104th Exhibition of the Royal Academy of Art in London (1872), after coming within a hair's breadth of rejection by the Academy. This episode worsened the rift between Whistler and the British art world; Arrangement was the last painting he submitted for the Academy's approval (although his etching of Old Putney Bridge was exhibited there in 1879). Vol. VIII of The Royal Academy of Arts: A Complete Dictionary of Contributors and their work from its foundation in 1769 to 1904 (by Algernon Graves, F.S.A., London 1906) lists the 1872 exhibit as no. 941, "Arrangement in Grey and Black: Portrait of the Painter's mother", and gives Whistler's address as The White House, Chelsea Embankment.

The sensibilities of a Victorian era viewing audience would not accept what was apparently a portrait being exhibited as an "arrangement", hence the addition of the explanatory title Portrait of the Painter's mother. From this the work acquired its enduring nickname of simply Whistler's Mother. After Thomas Carlyle viewed the painting, he agreed to sit for a similar composition, this one titled Arrangement in Grey and Black, No. 2. Thus the previous painting became, by default, Arrangement in Grey and Black, No. 1.

Whistler eventually pawned the painting, which was acquired in 1891 by Paris's Musée du Luxembourg. Whistler's works, including this one, had attracted a number of imitators, and numerous similarly posed and restricted-colour palette paintings soon appeared, particularly by American expatriate painters. For Whistler, having one of his paintings displayed in a major museum helped attract wealthy patrons. In December 1884, Whistler wrote:

Just think — to go and look at one's own picture hanging on the walls of Luxembourg — remembering how it had been treated in England — to be met everywhere with deference and respect...and to know that all this is ... a tremendous slap in the face to the Academy and the rest! Really it is like a dream.

As a proponent of art for art's sake, Whistler professed to be perplexed and annoyed by the insistence of others upon viewing his work as a "portrait." In his 1890 book The Gentle Art of Making Enemies, he wrote:

Take the picture of my mother, exhibited at the Royal Academy as an "Arrangement in Grey and Black." Now that is what it is. To me it is interesting as a picture of my mother; but what can or ought the public do to care about the identity of the portrait?

The image has been used since the Victorian era, especially in the United States, as an icon for motherhood, affection for parents, and "family values" in general. For example, in 1934 the U.S. Post office issued a stamp engraved with a stylized image of Whistler's Mother, accompanied by the slogan "In Memory and In Honor of the Mothers of America." Both "Whistler's Mother" and "Thomas Carlyle" were engraved by the English engraver Richard Josey. In the Borough of Ashland, Pennsylvania, an eight-foot high statue based on the painting was erected by the Ashland Boys' Association in 1938 during the Great Depression as a tribute to mothers.

The image has been repeatedly appropriated for commercial advertisements and parodies, such as doctored images of the subject watching a television, and sometimes accompanied by captions such as "Whistler's Mother is Off Her Rocker."

In summing up the painting's influence, author Martha Tedeschi has stated:

Whistler's Mother, Wood's American Gothic, Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa and Edvard Munch's The Scream have all achieved something that most paintings—regardless of their art historical importance, beauty, or monetary value—have not: they communicate a specific meaning almost immediately to almost every viewer. These few works have successfully made the transition from the elite realm of the museum visitor to the enormous venue of popular culture.

Over the last century and a half Whistler’s mother has been having a high old time. Perhaps 1934 was the giddiest year: Cole Porter name-checked her in “You’re the Top” while the US government put her on a postage stamp to celebrate Mother’s Day.

More recently the playwright Edward Bond turned her into the devil in a wheelchair in Grandma Faust, while in 1997 Rowan Atkinson gurned in front of her as Mr Bean. Whenever Whistler’s Mother (its official title is Arrangement in Grey and Black No 1) tours the world, gallery crowds flock to stare at the elderly, seated figure staring enigmatically into the middle distance.

Along with the Mona Lisa and Girl With a Pearl Earring, she has become an instantly quotable pin-up of popular art. Which is odd because “Whistler’s mother” doesn’t exist, not really. The fact that the woman in the picture was indeed the artist’s mother was not, at least for James McNeill Whistler, the point at all. The London-based American painter had no interest in doing family portraits – Anna Whistler was a stand-in for someone who hadn’t turned up – nor was he concerned with conjuring up “wisdom”, “age” or even “mothers” in general. As the picture’s real title suggests, what actually drove him was the technical challenge of modulating tones of black and grey in a way that made them legible in half-light.

He had done something similar nearly 10 years earlier in The White Girl when he’d painted his mistress Jo Hiffernan in a froth of white on more white. Now here was another aesthetic experiment, this time at the opposite end of the colour spectrum.

For a painter who said he wasn’t interested in mimetic portraiture, illustrative anecdote or symbolic signalling, it’s ironic that Whistler is now best remembered for a painting that appears to do all three. There’s something telling, too, in the fact that Anna Whistler herself never seemed to grasp that she was only there as a useful arrangement of shape and volume rather than as a subject who actually mattered.

When Whistler finished the picture and murmured “Oh Mother … it is beautiful,” it was his handiwork he was admiring, not her bone structure. And there’s no getting away from the odd fact that, while everyone agreed that the picture was the very spit of Anna, they quickly spotted one deliberate distortion. Instead of an accurate rendering of her neat little patrician slippers, Whistler had given his mother “sprawling, flat peasant feet”.

Daniel E Sutherland and Georgia Toutziari are adamant that we shouldn’t try to read anything into this. Yet they proceed to offer such a treasure trove of odd information about Whistler mère et fils that it seems a dereliction of curiosity, duty even, not to probe further.

You can’t help noticing, for instance, how strangely the flesh-and-blood Anna was positioned in her adult son’s life, managing to be simultaneously at its centre and entirely to one side. Living around the corner from his studio in Chelsea, the American-born widow acted as “Jemie’s” amanuensis, agent, cheerleader and chief scold. She prepared lunch for visitors at his studio, nagged him to number his engravings in order to boost their market value, and told him to make friends with important people who might buy his work. She remained hugely proud of what she called “my painting”, claiming it not just as a portrait but as an emblem of the contribution she had made to her darling son’s career.

“He always confides in his mother,” Anna approvingly told her friends which, unsurprisingly, turns out to be the opposite of true. Whistler was instead careful to present his mother with a tightly edited version of his extremely rackety life. Whenever she met his disreputable male friends, they were instructed to be on their best behaviour. How else can one explain the fact that this deeply religious woman believed the boisterously drunk and gay Algernon Swinburne to be a delightful young man fit to be her honorary son?

And as for Hiffernan, Jemie’s Irish mistress, Anna seems to have thought that she was nothing more than his favourite model. When in 1870 the girl-mad Whistler had an illegitimate son by a local chambermaid, the news was kept from Anna, who sailed on oblivious, offering prayers and tracts to anyone she thought looked spiritually peaky.

While Sutherland and Toutziari are meticulous in rendering the busy life of Anna Whistler – she crossed the Atlantic 11 times as she followed her peripatetic husband and sons around the world – they remain uninterested in teasing out the emotional resonances of these constant dislocations. What we get instead is a respectful portrait of a woman who prided herself on her moral restraint and good breeding, yet whom, for some unaccountable reason, her son decided to paint with cumbersome feet that appear poised to step on other people’s toes.

Baile no Moulin Rouge, Paris, França (La Danse au Moulin-Rouge) - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

Baile no Moulin Rouge, Paris, França (La Danse au Moulin-Rouge) - Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
Paris - França
Philadelphia Museum of Art
OST - 115x149 - 1890

O Moulin Rouge, assim como o Moulin da Galette, ficava no bairro parisiense de Montmartre, sendo o segundo frequentado por pessoas bem populares, como costureiras e operários. Mas, apesar de luxuoso, o Moulin Rouge possuía uma clientela bem diversificada: empregados de grandes lojas, burgueses, artistas, intelectuais e aristocratas. O cancã, tipo de dança, cujo ritmo era bastante animado, no qual as dançarinas lançavam as pernas ao alto, enquanto levantavam suas saias rendadas, mostrando as pernas, era parte rotineira da noite, atraindo turistas de várias partes do mundo.

Esta composição de Toulouse-Lautrec, cujo título é enorme: No Moulin Rouge: Dança – Valentin, o Desossado, Ensaia as Novas Candidatas, representa um ensaio no local.

Valetin, o Desossado, apelido dado em razão de sua magreza, muito famoso à época, ensaia com a voluptuosa Goulue, a Gulosa. Elegantemente vestido, com sua cartola na cabeça, ele dança com uma das mais prestigiadas dançarinas do pincel de Toulouse-Lautrec. Ela pode ser reconhecida através de seu coque e pelo seu jeito provocativo de dançar.

O salão é grande e luxuoso, enfeitado com muitas tapeçarias coloridas. Lampiões descem do alto do teto, iluminando os presentes. O chão, impecavelmente encerado, mostra a sombra dos dançarinos.

O pintor coloca à direita, em segundo plano, em meio a amigos, a figura de seu pai. Em primeiro plano, duas elegantes mulheres acompanham a dança, enquanto um homem atravessa o salão, já quase com o rosto coberto.

O Moulin Rouge, um salão dançante em Montmartre, Paris, existe até hoje. No final do século 19 era um local frequentado por cavalheiros da classe média que, acompanhado por mulheres de caráter duvidoso, distraiam-se com espetáculos e bailes animados.

Toulouse-Lautrec, atualmente um dos mais conhecidos artistas franceses do século 19, com frequência passava as noites inteiras no Moulin Rouge, bebendo e desenhando estrelas do music-hall e membros da realeza que vagueavam por aquele mundo obscuro e um tanto decadente.

O estilo rápido de pinceladas visíveis de suas obras mostram que Toulouse- Lautrec as pintava sentado no salão. Aristocrata de nascimento e seriamente aleijado desde a infância. Toulouse-Lautrec, sempre se sentiu afastado da sociedade por sua deformidade. Preferia a companhia dos marginalizados e cercava-se de atrizes, comediantes, dançarinas e prostitutas, que se tornaram temas das suas pinturas.

Esta é uma das primeiras pinturas de outra grande musa de Lautrec: La Goulue. O dono do Moulin Rouge a comprou imediatamente na verdade antes mesmo da tela estar seca, e pendurou-a no bar. No quadro, as grandes atrações da casa. La Goulue e Valentine, Le Désossé (“dessossado”, devido à sua grande flexibilidade e desenvoltura como dançarino) dançam em meio aos clientes.

Uma inscrição lápis recentemente descoberta, feita pela mão do artista, na parte de trás desta pintura famosa lê-se: “A instrução aos novos por Valentine, o desossado.” Toulouse-Lautrec não estava representando uma noite comum no Moulin Rouge, mas sim de momento específico de um homem agora conhecido apenas por seu apelido parece ser o ensino da dança “can-can”. Muitos dos habitantes das cenas são membros conhecidos da local de prostitutas, artistas e pessoas vistas apenas à noite, incluindo o poeta irlandês de barba branca William Butler Yeats, que se inclina no balcão do bar.

Lautrec também pouco se importava em representar as nuances da luz que tanto encantavam os impressionistas. Certamente foi tentado por eles, mas não seguiu fielmente essa corrente. Preferia a luz artificial, fria e imóvel dos ambientes fechados, mas reveladora do rosto verdadeiro. E o traço de seu lápis ágil anota um perfil, o movimento rápido de uma bailarina, uma sobrancelha que interroga, o gesto da mão que desperta do abandono voluntário, a expressão de uma rosto onde flagra o instante da alegria ou do desgosto, da saciedade ou da angústia.

Mercado Municipal, 1936, São Paulo, Brasil - Oskar Schmieder

Mercado Municipal, 1936, São Paulo, Brasil - Oskar Schmieder
São Paulo - SP
Fotografia


Em 1936, o fotógrafo alemão Oskar Schmieder registrou estas cenas internas no Mercado Municipal de São Paulo. Projetado em 1925 por Felisberto Ranzini — integrante do Escritório Técnico de Ramos de Azevedo. Sua construção se iniciou em 1928 e foi concluida em 25/01/1933. O entulho — não peças decorativas — resultante da demolição do breve Teatro São José no Viaduto do Chá foi utilizado para o aterramento da área do mercado. Quanto a este último mencionado, uma indagação: será que na época, os irresistiveis queijos, salames e outros embutidos custavam tão caro como nestes inflacionados tempos atuais?