We walk to the Casa-Museu Medeiros e Almeida, off the Avenida da Liberdade, near the Praça do Marqûes de Pombal, to see how the other half of Lisbon live(d). I have in mind the Casa-Museu Frederico de Freitas which we saw, and enjoyed very much, in February, in Funchal, Madeira. António de Medeiros e Almeida lived from 1864-1945, while Frederico de Freitas lived from 1894-1978; the Casa-Museu Medeiros e Almeida opened in 2001, and the Frederico de Freitas, with its attached tile museum, opened in 1999.
Of course, the interests of the two men varied greatly. António de Medeiros e Almeida was a wealthy business man who imported British cars (Morris Motors) and helped to establish the aviation industry in Portugal. He and his wife, Margarida, collected clocks and watches, as well as porcelain, and all types of fine art.
We start in the Capela, a low, long space filled with heavy vestments, bulky architectural brackets, and a particularly captivating carved teak pulpit. From 17th-18th century Portuguese India, it combines east and west, with classical columns supported by wide-eyed mermaids – not what you expect on a chapel pulpit. The altar, however, is exactly as expected: pristine azulejos panels on either side of an ornamented architectural arch, smothered with angles and swirls of gold. I believe there is a Lamb of God on the base of the cross (there is a Nativity in the small niche on the left), then Christ on the cross, and Christ arisen in the keystone.
The azulejos seem to depict angels walking about the countryside; I cannot say for sure their story. The Four Evengelists (early 16th century Portuguese), carved in stone with a satisfying, solid feel, emerge from arched niches in the small side chapels.
From the Capela, we go up a few steps, through the Antecapela, to the Átrio, where we are greeted by a truly epic clock (Relógio de Caixa Alta, French, 1900). At the base is a small sculpted woodland setting, the bell for the chimes hangs above. A small nymph seems to have climbed out to pick the fruit, just below the pendulum, on which is set a smiling portrait framed in sunbeams. Over that, a rooster is calling the start of the day. Further up the case, the clock face is set on an eye-catching, spherical star-field. On top is Father Time, his scythe at the ready, reminding us that the inevitable is approaching.
The ceiling includes painted images of old court life; the original house dates from 1896, but seems to call back to an older era. Climbing the stairs, we find the Galeria Nova, known as the Sala das Tapeçarias (Tapestry Room). Hard to picture this as part of a home, this 'new gallery' seems to be a museum-addition to the old casa, with ceilings and furnishings re-installed.
From the Galeria Nova, we come to the Sala do Piano. Here the tone changes again, with paneled walls showing the arts indicated by tools and instruments in low relief (the painting of an old, intense philosopher, titled Retrato de Velho com Espada, is by Giandomenico Tiepolo, 1768). In the far corner is what appears at first glance to be a 17th century Rembrandt self portrait – appraisers have determined that an apprentice painted it (a real Rembrandt self-portrait just sold for $18.7 million). It hangs next to another remarkable clock, a Biesta a Paris, Louis XV case clock. There are two complications in the face: the lower fan-shaped opening shows day-date and zodiac sign, along with some other numbers and markings. The upper display shows the moon-phases. On top, Father Time again looms, once more ready with his blade.
The next room seems richer still; it is the Sala Louis XIV. This room feels as if it's in a house and not a museum, but the objects in here are staggering: more decorative clocks, paneled and painted walls, embroidered chairs. The objects in the cases at the far end are especially curious. There is a porcelain double-headed eagle (Águia Bicéfala, Austrian, 1867-1918) in vivid blues and greens, with a royal crown over both heads. A quartet of tiny turtles carries the pedestal, and a small dragon is riding on a cushion on its back. Opposite that, there is a stupendous horn (Corno de Libação, 'Horn of Libation', Austrian, 1866-1922), scribed and decorated with fine metalwork: a boar (a bear?) in the plug-end, a stag holding the horn at the base, and a young man with his dog on the cap.
Suddenly we are in an intimate bedroom; the plain ceiling and cove lighting are the give-away that this is also part of the some museum addition. Called simply Quarto, the interior of the guest room is comfortable and inviting. With more nature scenes on the walls, it thoughtfully offers both an antique commode and a similar porcelain bidet.
There is a small transition space, the Corredor Dona Catarina de Bragança, featuring a night-light clock (Relógio de Noite, English, c. 1670) once owned by the Queen. The face presents a sunset in the countryside, with cypress trees and statuary. The hour is given by a number within a circle that rotates through a graduated, semi-circular slot. We assume the position indicates minutes. The Roman numerals 'I, II, and III' seem to mark the quarter hours, so the time shown in the picture is four minutes past twelve (note that all the non-functional devices seem to be set to ten past ten, so you can calculate time's passing on this visit if you just check the clocks).
The most personal and compelling spaces are upstairs. Serving as portraits of the home-owners, they are filled with favorite mementos and artworks. From the upper hallway there are two sitting rooms, his and hers. In his room, there is a series of small city-scapes by Carlos Botelho, conveying the pastels and geometries of Lisbon. A chest of drawers folds open to reveal a small writing desk and display case. In another corner is a weather station of sorts, hanging above a phonograph system, and next to an antique model airplane.
The bedroom is a bit of a surprise, with an alarmingly large crucifix nailed above and between the twin beds. Suspended from the ceiling another delightful chandelier plays against a painted ceiling medallion looking almost like another timepiece.
After our tour of the private apartments, we return downstairs to the Sala de Jantar. Each of the twelve place-settings has five drinking glasses – sixty glasses!
Next-door is the Escritório, which is more library than office. One of the large arched cases is filled with medals, emblems of his titles, and awards. I don't know what those large books on the center table are, atlases perhaps, but they are some of the largest books I've ever seen. Another weather station is in the far corner.
From the Escritório, we pass back through the Corredor and the Salão and find ourselves in the Galeria de Cima. This 'upper gallery' introduces us to the theme of 'four continents and four seasons'. Europe is represented by a carriage drawn by horses (Africa's is drawn by lions, Asia's by camels, America's by crocodiles). All the azulejos are from the demolished Quinta dos Inglesinhos em Carnide, Lisbon, c. 1725-1750. The painted wood ceilings are back as well – again, the floors and walls function as a 'new container' for the older artwork.
Turning the corner, we arrive at the Sala do Lago, an enormous ballroom (?) interrupted by a heroic fountain, and a number of glass cases filled with snuff boxes. In the extra-tall ceiling, the continents are depicted: Asia faces us as were enter facing east. To the north is Europa, to the south is Africa, and to the west is America.
The fountain is arranged below an elongated female nude standing on a group of dolphins; water from the dolphins fills an elaborate earth-toned bowl. The water exits via the mouths of three large male gargoyles, who 'deposit' the water into giant clam shells. The shells are held by the tails of three serpents, which then fill the circular lago from their mouths.
The feminine-masculine contrast is repeated in the sculptures at either side of the room. On the left is Veritas, a life-sized female nude of the 'Truth' revealing herself (by Raffaelle Monti, 1853). The artist's skill, applied to the stone, is of the highest order; the silky, 'sheer' cloth is throughly convincing. On the right is a pair of male nudes in combat, at the gruesome moment of victory; it is Sansão a Matar um Filisteu (Samson Killing a Philistine, by John van Nost, after Giambologna, c. 1700). Nearby is another dark-stone female figure holding a familiar star-covered sphere, reminiscent of the face from the first floor clock. She is standing above the tile panel for 'winter' (note the figures huddled by the smokey fire).
Descending the stairs to the Galeria de Baixo, we land in the lower stair hall that doubles as a movie theater; today's feature presents the life of António de Medeiros e Almeida (click to watch on YouTube). There are two final galleries with special collections, the Sala dos Relógios and the Sala das Porcelanas. For me the watches and clocks are endlessly fascinating, and I spend my remaining time here. The first case on the right holds the oldest pieces, including one designed to wake you by gunshot and candle:
[T]he mechanism of the alarm, instead of the usual ringing tone, drives the flintlock that fires a shot of dry gunpowder, initiating a reaction that allows the cover to be opened and the candle to be lifted (which is lying down), which on its turn lights the candle with sparks made by the gunpowder burned by the scratch of the flint on the rifle.
In the case opposite there are a number of miniature automatons – many with tiny birds, another with a harpist, and another with a polka-dotted clown carrying a lantern, a pickaxe, and some kind of backpack 'cabinet' (maybe Stephen King can explain). Next to that case are two whimsical clocks, one whipping a teeny, weighted line that winds itself around a pair of wire rods, and the other with a marble-track, ingeniously engineered to travel a lap and measure a minute. There are fifteen pieces of track (two halves at each end), so two seconds each, down and back, makes a full minute. I hope I figured that right.
I believe some Portuguese see themselves as world-connectors, sailing to unknown lands and filling museums with amazing discoveries and personal treasures. But, perhaps, the Medeiros e Almeida displays a regard for deeper things: continents, seasons, machines and people, the connections of the universe, the passage of time, the past and the future.
UPDATE / TUESDAY: The global death count is over seven hundred thousand. However, the last few days have seen a leveling-off of the pandemic numbers. In the US, by Monday, the seven day averages for both cases (59,006 per day) and deaths (1,046 per day) are starting to trend downward after it's recent frightening rise.
By leveling-off, however, the US has found a much higher level. As modeled by Georgia, the seven-day average for cases was around seven hundred per day in April and May, but has been around thirty-six hundred for about three weeks.
In Georgia, the seven-day averages are slowly decreasing for cases (3,270.9 per day), though deaths are gradually rising (51.1 per day). In an attempt to follow Trump's demand that schools re-open, Gwinnett County planned to re-open with 'opt-in' in-person classes on August 12th. Those plans were delayed after 260 employees tested positive for the coronavirus; in-person teaching is still set to restart on August 26th.
In Portugal has recorded just two deaths in the past three days; yesterday there were no deaths recorded. The seven-day average for cases (181.6 per day) and deaths (2.4 per day) have been in steadily declining since mid- July. On the national charts, Portugal is down to forty-fifth; it was re-passed by Singapore, and passed by Romania and Guatemala.
cases: 18,665,282 global • 4,914,388 USA • 51,681 Portugal
deaths: 702,576 global • 160,129 USA • 1,739 Portugal
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