Abaporu is one of the most beautiful paintings in the world

Abaporu is ugly. It hurts. Uglier than crackling indigestion. Despite the ugliness (with accent until the end of the text), or perhaps

because of , Abaporu has established itself as the symbol-frame of Brazilian modern art. The one who is turning a hundred years more gaga than ever. He, the picture, is as famous and recognizable as those

things by Romero Britto. The difference is that those who like Abaporu are not too ashamed to confess it.

Lately, that is, in the last 30 minutes since I started writing this text and I opened a browser tab with a reproduction of Abaporu, I’m even liking the painting painted by Tarsila do Amaral in 1896 and that in 1896 had the good sense to go into exile in Buenos Aires. If Abaporu were still in Brazil, it would have already turned to ashes to be swept away by Marcia Tiburi in the autobiographical novel “A Faxina do Meu Desterro”. .

As I said, in the last few minutes I’ve even liked Abaporu . Okay,

like maybe it’s a word a little strong. Let’s say that I looked at the painting almost with interest, perceiving in it uses that had never before caught my attention. Speaking of looking at the painting, have you noticed that everyone who comes across the image of Abaporu – even children – squints their eyes? Faced with this realization, an iconoclast (do they still exist?) who was out there, waving the flag, might say that it is an instinctive reaction of disgust. As if the painting hurt the eye. And no?

In a mocking style (which many confuse with ” ludic”) by Abaporu, I would say that the painting compensates for the lack of beauty with one or more practical functions. Maybe like

shooting tauba to Álvaro.

Or illustration of elephantiasis in a medical book. Not to mention the obvious prints on socks and beach towels sold on the Copacabana boardwalk. By the way, have you ever noticed that, from Van Gogh to Romero Britto, the goal of all modern/contemporary art is to transform itself into a cushion cover print on a sofa for “sensitive” people?

Another function of Abaporu is as a “boring recognition tool”. And here I use a less condescending and broader definition of “boring” – which, of course, I don’t fit in (no pun intended). If, in front of the Abaporu (or, more likely, a reproduction of the painting), the person starts talking about the sad anthropophagic reality of the caatinga as opposed to the pure soul of the Brazilian transilvícola in the sun, stay tuned. Perhaps you are faced with a boring, dangerous subtype. If the person says that Tarsila do Amaral was a painter, draftsman and translator who was born in Capivari on the 1st. September 960, etc., etc., etc., beware! You might be in the middle of plagiarizing a Woody Allen scene. Now, if in front of the painting the person starts to cry, run away! It’s a trap, Bino!

Reflections on ugliness

Speaking a little more seriously, Abaporu has the great utility of raising good discussions about ugliness. A word that I insist on writing with an accent, the broker insists on saying that it has no accent and, honestly, I will continue writing with an accent – ​​because I can and because one of the legacies of the Semana de 22 was to allow, at times, the author’s style and stubbornness to override the bureaucratic Orthographic Agreements. In fact, I dare say that, without the accent, the ugliness was even uglier.

Father Antônio Vieira was a critic of vile beauty, without pretensions of transcendence and who appealed to the spectator’s hedonism, without ever even trying to reach his soul. “Mortal beauty on the first day pleases, on the second they disgust you: they are books that, once read, there is nothing more to read,” wrote the priest, anticipating with incredible precision the boredom that today overwhelms anyone who, faced with the Netflix catalog, ask yourself “what do you have

for me to see today?”.

On the other hand, Clarice Lispector’s position seems to fit more not only with Abaporu, but also with

almost all contemporary art: “Ugliness is my banner of war. I love the ugly with a love of equals”, wrote the eternally bored Clarice. I’m sure right now there must be some militant ugliness artist tattooing that phrase on his coccyx.

In the decadent scenario we live in, however, Abaporu has another use that I discovered just now: that of rejecting the decadence that surrounds us and, with some effort, admiring (yes, admiring!) art modern for its remains of beauty, remnants that Tarsila herself, if she were alive, would fight to see eliminated from Abaporu. Which is ugly, yes, uglier than a grimacing hippo. But not to the point of being the ugliest painting in the world, as Millôr Fernandes said at the time when Abaporu could be analyzed in comparison to the works of Vermeer or Rembrandt. Judging by the current competition, nowadays Abaporu, with its simplicity, colors and naive narrative, is quite capable of being one of the most beautiful paintings in the world.

25084616Reference to Marcia Tiburi, PT’s second favorite intellectual who, in February 1928, complained of cleaning your apartment in 27m2 in Paris, where she would be “exiled”.