Monday, April 2, 2018

LISBON PORTUGAL 2018 - 3 - FROM ONE OF THE SEVEN HILLS OF LISBON

After a productive day at the conference yesterday, I feel comfortable taking another day off and revisit the places that I had been to before and visit more of Lisbon that I haven't been to. I would like to go to Barrio Alto today and visit at least the Gulbenkian Museum. Seeing that the metro red line that I catch right in front of the hotel is a block away from Gulbenkian Museum at its last stop, I decide to change the order of my pursuits.

One very sensual piece of art from Gulbenkian Museum

Calouste Gulbenkian is known to be a British businessman of Armenian origin, who was the first person to exploit Iraqi oil and somehow to open Middle Eastern petroleum reserves to the use and exploitation of the Western world. However, his Armenian family lived near Lake Van in Turkey as early as the 4th century. As they moved around Asia Minor, they lived in Kayseri, Talas and finally ended up in Istanbul. That is where Calouste's father became an oil baron mostly focusing on the oil in the Caucuses. It was the Ottoman emperor, who gave the Gulbenkian Sr. the right to Mesopotamian oil fields! Calouste was born in Istanbul but after completing his college education in Turkey, his father sent him to London to study petroleum engineering. Apparently the father was very strategic about how to expand the family's control over ever-expanding petroleum fields in the Old World. Calouste travelled and lived in many major cities of his time including Istanbul, London, Paris, and Lisbon.

A copy of Kuran acquired in Iran, which displays most exquisite miniature art, the art of Iran that Orhan Pamuk talks about in great detail in his book "My name is Red"

With the loads of money he made off of middle eastern oil, he must have wanted to own beauty from those lands as well. Thus, he collected lots of art pieces and furnished his home in Paris with these museum quality artifacts. Currently, the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation owns all his art collections. The foundation not only preserves very successfully Gulbenkian's collection, but also continues to purchase modern Portuguese art to keep the museum dynamic. Apparently, throughout his life, Gulbenkian was involved with many philanthropic activities including the establishment of schools, hospitals, and churches.  

Tiles of all sizes, colors, and purposes from Iznik, Turkey, which is the tile capital of the country are abound in the museum

Although, commendable, I have become cynical about these good deeds when the very person(s) of such altruistic dedications have earned the resources to do such good by destroying the lands and at times lives of others. Koch Brothers, ExonMobil, Chevron, British Petroleum, I bet are all involved in numerous charity projects. Does that take away their responsibility in destroying the earth and along with it killing multitude of all forms of life from vegetation, to animals, to humans... Gulbenkian was not simply a rich man, he was RICH, big time. He as in one single man owned 5% of the Middle Eeastern oil reserves at the turn of the last century. He had a mansion in Paris, in which most of his own collection was displayed merely as ornamentation of the house.
Samples of tiles from Gulbenkian's house in Paris

Before purchasing an art piece, he consulted with multiple curators and collectors and had his finds valued.  He was able to afford that cost as well. One wonders then, was he doing this as part of his business dealings, expecting that they would bring a return of some sort? Although he had homes in Istanbul, Paris and London, he was essentially a nomad per internet entry and never had a home in Portugal and stayed at hotels as he visited. In 1942, he moved to Portugal, where he lived until his death in 1955. Thus, the Gulbenkian Foundation that he established and inherited all his fortune was able to found this incredible museum in Lisbon after his death.

Vases from far east displayed at Gulbenkian Museum

The foundation did fierce fundraising to build this two-section museum separated with beautifully designed gardens and a series of various sizes of ponds. One building houses the modern art collection and the other Gulbenkian’s own collection. In his collection are tiles, kilims, vases, bowls, and carpets from Iran, Syria, and Turkey from his earlier collection years. Later on, he continued collecting the same items in France, Spain, Italy as well. His furniture was Victorian style, beautiful elegant pieces, clearly carefully selected. Finally, he reached out to Far East and Egypt to collect exquisite pieces from every culture.

Pure silk embroidery from Japan

After I visit both sections, it is time to enjoy a cup of tea and a "pastel de nata", with almond based filling; delicious Portuguese treat watching the ducks in one of the ponds. Now it is time to head to Bairro Alto. Lisbon's Barrio Baxia, which it at sea level is the section of town where the old historic commercial and governmental buildings are located.  Since I visited Barrio Baxia the first time I came to Lisbon some years ago and decided "This is a place to visit one time" I will skip that. Barrio Alto on the other hand is a different story. I recall thinking when I had first visited it "I can come back here every time I come to Lisbon. And that is what I would like to do this afternoon. As you climb up to one of the seven hills that Lisbon is built on, you come across Chiado, which is the shopping district of Lisbon. Up further is Bairro Alto, the highest point of the west side of Lisbon across which you may enjoy vistas of the river.

The funicular up the steep street leading to Bairro Alto.

The San Jorge Castle and the rest of the city’s east side are very inviting from afar, alas won't be able to do it this time. When you go to Alfama, which is the eastern section of the city by the water, it rises up to the San Jorge Castle, from where you may view Bairro Alto, which is also an indispensable experience, which Bill and I had done in 2010. It was somewhat of a taxing climb for Bill, but he was always willing to try and had the greatest pleasure when we accomplished something physical together. Although there is a funicular that carries people up the steep hill from the Restauradores region up to Bairro Alto, I decide to hike up the cobble stoned street. To my surprise, although very steep, it is barely a quarter of a mile long. By the time I am up at the “terrace”, clouds have started accumulating, but sun is still shining in the distance and across from the valley. I am delighted to see that there is an outdoors café right on top of the terrace under linden trees. Although there is a very small kitchen area walled off of the terrace, they have a bathroom and they serve Vinho Verde!

Bare trees against the backdrop of gathering clouds on the terrace in Bairro Alto

Volla, this is my first stop up at Bairri Alto for sure. My server is a mixed-racial-appearing handsome young man named Ianick Helder Parvalho Mendes, who is happy to share his name with me. His family was from a small island under Portuguese control near Madeira off the African coast. He came to Portugal when he was 4 years old. He seems to be happy with what he is doing. He helps me get the best table to take in all the beauty the terrace offers, adjusts the outdoors heater, and brings me two fleece blankets along with my wine. I look like an Eskimo, but I am one happy camper…
Covered with fleece blankets against San Jorge Castle across the valley in Bairro Alto

After spending about an hour on the terrace, it starts raining, Ianick and his colleague are fast picking up the blankets that are scattered on the chairs to keep them dry. All customers find refuge under the huge umbrellas protecting several of the tables. It is about time for me to take off and perhaps find a true indoors place to visit and warm up a bit. One place I would like to find is the Café A Brasileria, which was once upon a time a place for all intellectuals of Lisbon, writers, poets, painters among others. After quite a bit of up and down walking, I finally find it after asking locals.
Café a Brasileria, the gathering place of the intellectuals of the last century in Lisbon

Although it has outdoors seating, I would like to see its inside. It is almost a hole in the wall, narrow, but deep. I find seating at the table at the very back of the café. Soup is the only thing I can think of at this point, both because I need warmth and I know there is no bad soup in Portugal. The soup of the day is spinach-bean soup. It turns out to be the regular delicious pureed vegetable soup that I so enjoy enriched with, most likely repurposed-left over, whole spinach leaves and chick peas! It is to die for and hit just the spot. When it comes to paying, I am about to fall off of my chair. This hearty and generous soup cost sonly E2.50!
The entrance door to Do Carmo Church in Largo do Carmo square

Three more days in Lisbon added to my undertraining of this beautiful city and its vicinity. My first time in Lisbon was also my first time in Portugal. Excitement was there, but with no previous understanding of Portugal, most memories slipped away from that visit except those that I cherished with Bill, who was with me when I had visited Lisbon the first time. As the days go by in Lisbon, missing him is more acute, his absence more tangible. I miss how we had shared our impressions of all the vistas in 2010 with deep thoughts and feelings. Sharing experiences with someone loved and trusted has always made the experiences deeper and more memorable for me and he was definitely that one for me last decade. He thought deeply and spoke and wrote eloquently. His use of his mother tongue, English always mesmerized me. My love of languages and admiration of those who use language of their choosing with artistry had found an object of enormous admiration in him.

I wonder how BIll would have described the juncture of the castle, one of seven hills of Lisbon and the ocean in the beautiful words of his mother tongue?

Although I aspire to reach that level of command of English, I know well that being one of Turkish origin, who moved to the USA in her late 30s, now ready to leap to her 60s, I will never be able to reach his level of use of English. Albeit, despite my annual visits to Turkey, with the lack of reading in Turkish, I am subtly but continuously losing my once impeccable command of Turkish, too. Yet I always take refuge in  "Change whatever you can with your best effort, accept with compassion, calm, and embrace whatever you cannot, and be wise enough to know the difference between the two..." This blog is my humble effort to do my best to change, hopefully, and possibly what I desire to change...

Colorful, sweet, tasteful, tasty Portugal...