Wednesday, September 30, 2020

Pandemic Timeline (What Happened?)

Johnny Harris is a travel blogger; his videos are engaging and often have a political or historical 'hook'. I also enjoy the videos he publishes with his wife, Iz, and his kids, as they travel the world (the Portugal videos are fascinating and fun). Today, I am happy and surprised to see his face on the front page of the digital New York Times with an opinion piece (link to video on YouTube) that echoes my own experiences and the data that I've been tracking.

He uses the latest 'US versus EU' COVID-19 cases-per-capita data graph to tell a story, along with Pulitzer winning journalist Nicholas Kristof and producer Adam B Ellick. Here is their basic graph from the video:

Looking back, when we arrived home from Madeira in February, and settled into the pandemic in March, my lockdown began with a feeling of devastating tragedy for things that were not done. As I knew we would not be traveling and searching for catharsis, I felt I should record the events of the pandemic on this blog. From that early post, the initial tragedy was the decade of inaction described by Dr. Peter Hotez at a Congressional hearing on March 5th:

The bottom line is had we had those investments early on to carry this through to clinical trials years ago. We could've had a vaccine ready to go. So we've got to figure out what the ecosystem is going to be to develop vaccines that are not going to make money.

Now, the Harris video explains that the second Bush Administration wrote the first "pandemic playbook" fifteen years ago. The Obama Administration expanded and updated the playbook, and specifically warned about coronaviruses. They handed the playbook to the Trump Administration, who ignored it.

There is a list of tragedies, in number and dimension to shock Shakespeare, as Johnny asks:

The US government has an actual playbook that tells us what we need to do in the case of a pandemic. Not to mention it's like the richest country in the world with the best health institution on earth, the CDC, which literally fights pandemics in other countries and teaches even our peers how to do epidemiology. And yet you look at this graph and you wonder, what happened?

To review my journey-in-graphs, start here, on April 29th. Just as the seven-day case averages for the US and the EU diverged, so did the trend-lines for Georgia and Portugal – I've updated my list of graphs as well (below). Recently, the US numbers have fallen, and the EU numbers have risen. Overall the data from the EU is still not nearly as bad as that from the from US.

In many ways, Georgia's case numbers are better than the US's national graph would suggest. Georgia is trending 'down' as the US seems to be bouncing 'up'. Portugal's numbers are also better than the EU's graph would suggest. For example, Portugal's seven-day average has not gone above the peaks of early April; the averages for the EU, the US, and Georgia all remain much higher than their peaks in April.

It's the last day of September, 2020. I'm simultaneously trying to process and ignore the fallout from last night's Presidential debate. The world has passed one million deaths; Georgia will pass seven thousand deaths tonight. Similar to what I wrote a few days ago, in the EU and Portugal, numbers are getting worse, but things aren't so bad. In the US and Georgia, the numbers are getting better, but things are awful.


Note that Georgia and Portugal have about the same size population and that both places recorded their first cases of COVID-19 on the same day (March 2). Georgia mandated a stay-at-home order about about a week later than Portugal (March 20 vs March 12), and opened up about a week earlier (April 24 vs May 2). It's clear what those few days now mean.

For a baseline, on April 7, seven-day averages in Georgia and Portugal were about the same in terms of both cases and deaths (GA: 719.9 / 31.9 vs PT: 714.1 / 26.4). Accounting for the two-week incubation of COVID-19, this shows how closing earlier and re-opening later has benefitted Portugal. Also when outbreaks did occur, Portugal went back to local lockdowns; Georgia has not done this. Data points from July 24 are illustrative of the greatest gap (GA: 3745.4 / 44.3 vs PT: 230.7 / 4.3).

Today's averages reflect a significant change in the case trends (GA: 1155.0 / 45.3 vs PT: 722.0 / 5.4). As it was in May and June, the gap is around four hundred cases per day. At the same time, the overall totals of cases and deaths remain multiples apart (GA: 316, 306 / 6,994 vs PT: 74,717 / 1,963).
     cases: 34,071,124 global • 7,433,558 USA • 75,542 Portugal
    deaths: 1,016,229 global • 211,406 USA • 1,971 Portugal

    Boston.com reports that after the debate: "Google searches soared for phrases regarding moving to Canada after Tuesday night’s heated presidential debate between President Donald Trump and former Vice President Joe Biden — especially in the Bay State."

    Friday, September 25, 2020

    Palácio Nacional da Ajuda


    Lisbon's Metro reaches as far west as the civil parish of Rato, which gives us access to the parishes of Estrela and Campo de Ourique. Anything further west seems like a different city – you must take a tram or a commuter train. But as we are trying to expand our horizons using the buses, the parish of Ajuda is therefore accessible.

    Ajuda literally translates to 'help', and suggests 'relief' or 'rescue'. After the Great Earthquake of 1755, the Portuguese royal family fled the damaged Paço da Ribeira, near what is now the Praça do Comércio, and 'encamped' in a wood-roofed quinta in the area that is now Ajuda. Construction on the Palácio da Ajuda began on that site in the 1790's, but the project was only partially completed when the royal family escaped Napoleon's invasion in 1807 and fled to Brazil.

    This Palácio was not high on my list of places to visit. No less an authority than nation's poet Fernando Pessoa wrote of the building:
    [W]e go down, and then up again the Palacio da Ajuda, a vast building without real architectural importance, but nevertheless worth seeing. The front is very ample but very sober.  The vestibule contains several small allegorical statues by Machado de Castro, Joaquim José de Barros, Amatucci, Faustino José Rodrigues, G. Viegas and José de Aguiar. The paintings are by Vieira Portuense, Domingos Sequeira and others.
    Still, it says something that Portugal's great writers should want to publish tourist guides for both Lisbon, specifically (Pessoa), and Portugal as a whole (Saramago). The vestibule described by Pessoa consists of two wide rotundas connected by a central barrel vault leading to a courtyard (which today contains a construction crane), all with niches containing the allegorical statues – I offer photos of Generosidade and Gratidao below.

    I'll also point out the neighboring Torre do Galo ('Cock Tower', or Torre da Paroquial), which looks interesting in the satellite views on my phone app, but is, in reality, a kind of ruin in the middle of a big parking lot. It is quite pretty from the bus rotary below, where the parapet hides the cars.

    This east-facing 'front door' was intended, I think, to be a kind of service entry, as it appears to be adjacent to what might be the old stables and coach house. However the Palácio's south-facing front entrance, as designed, was never completed; the current structure seems to represent less than half the planned construction.

     

     

     

    A ticket provides access to the museu, about half of the existing Palácio; the other half is offices for the cultural ministry (Direcção Geral do Património Cultural) – so we are seeing less than a quarter of the planned residence. Pessoa continues:
    Inside, the Palace is worthy of more attention, It contains very fine furniture, and excellent specimens of bronze, earthenware and other work, as also paintings and tapestry of considerable value. There are fine statues and mirrors, chandeliers, artistic clocks, carpets and curtains, and an infinity of other ornaments minor in size but not in interest. Two of the rooms are especially worth seeing - the Sala de Saxe, where walls, ceilings, furniture, and all else, show the celebrated little figures boaring that name; and the Sala de Marmore (Marble Room), where everything, walls, pavement and ceiling, is in marble.

    This important building, which may be visited with due permission, was begun in 1802 and was designed by the architect Fabri. The work took a long time, and, as a matter of fact, was never really brought to an end, several alterations being introduced into the original design. Dona Isabel Maria, who was Regent of the Kingdom, dwelt there, as also Dom Miguel, who was here acclaimed absolute king. Dom Carlos, of Spain, stayed here in 1833, and when the Republic was proclaimed Queen Maria Pia and Prince Affonso were living there.
    The ticket office and gift shop are in the Sala dos Archeiros (archers' room), and also houses a display of spears within a dark, wood-paneled theme. Through this foyer, we enter a kind of 'first reception' space, the Sala do Porteiro da Cana (porters' room), where we imagine, coats and hats are taken by the royal attendants (none of those are on hand today). The walls are lined with earthy leather furnishings, weighty velvet drapes, and animated tapestries. The ceiling is an amazing trompe-l'œil arcade of classical forms and Ionic columns. The depth created by the statuary that appears in the corners beyond the arcade is mitigated by the curving surface and resulting distortion of the faux-architecture, but is truly mesmerizing.

    Next, we enter a cavernous waiting room, the Grande Sala de Espera; there is space for a lot of important people to do a lot of waiting. More heavy velvet and tapestries, though with a lighter palette, and another spectacular ceiling – the room is full of color and details to keep the impatient occupied.

     

     


    We move into a smaller room with a canine theme, the Sala dos Cães. According to the docent, the tapestries here tell the story of Achilles. The panel facing us as we enter shows Achilles dressed as a woman, and the panel opposite shows him with only one foot in the River Styx. Other tapestries illustrate heroic encounters and so forth. We ask her why the story of Achilles is important to royal visitors; she pauses, gives us a look, and continues telling us about the old gods. Friendly and engaging, she is intent on telling her tale.

    She then takes us into the main receiving room, the Grande Sala do Despacho, or 'Hall of Order', which is inside the base of the south-eastern tower. Here, the tapestries are close by for easy inspection; the construction is intriguing, especially the way the colored threads are blended to create gradients. These tell a more violent story, that of Hannibal crossing the Alps, featuring wild and gory battle scenes with elephants. The ceiling, however, is a calming trompe-l'œil coffered dome, with an oculus open to heaven, and the angels there proclaiming felicitas publica – a happy nation.

     


     

    Through a small connecting space, we enter the private rooms of the royal couple. The first is the Sala da Música, including a harp, a piano forte, and a cello. As this row of private spaces is turned to the southern light, they are bright and lively. The furniture seems to be arranged as if the royals are about to return.

    The next room is Quarto do Rei D. Luis, a remarkably modest bed chamber, filled with family photos and portraits.

    Following that is a sitting room known as the Sala Azul (blue room), which is currently being restored. It's fascinating to see the room with the silk wall coverings removed, and some of the masonry exposed. We can see how things have aged and colors have faded in the sunlight. As described in the label, this area functions as a 'family room', with books, chess boards, and card tables.

     

     

     

    Adjacent to the Sala Azul is a smoking room with a great oak cabinet full of hunting rifles. This leads to the Sala Mármore (marble room), which feels like a larger, indoor-outdoor space and trimmed in alabaster. It is described as a winter-garden. There are doors to the balcony, a tall marble fountain in the center, and bird cages and animal sculptures all around.

    From there, we enter the Queen's wing via the Sala Rosa; it counterpoints the Sala Azul. This is a small sitting room filled with porcelain trinkets and tchotchkes (Saxe), covered in pale pink silk, and splashed with avian imagery. Definitely not my thing, but I suppose, just what a Queen might like – or a poet (apologies to Pessoa). The ceiling, however, is delightful, and sparkles with 'real' relief moldings and medallions, decorated with song birds and roses.

    This leads to the Sala Verde, the Queen's sitting room or office. The room is also filled with family portraits from different ages. Like seeing their annual school pictures, it's amusing to watch the curly-haired boys grow up.

     

     

     

    Then, we reach the Quarto de Cama da Rainha, the Queen's bedroom. Stunning in deep blue and bright gold, yet it's hard for me to see anything but the polar bear rug on the floor. The ceiling is another triumph, with a painted brackets and fans which support a fresco of the Queen being crowned in heaven. Providentia deorum quiet Augustine may refer to resting with the gods or something. To say that the Queen is 'over the top' might be an understatement.

    Next to the Quarto is a dressing room and bathroom, with quite a lot of space and chairs for people to help the Queen deal with, well, being the queen. But this is the last room along the south hall of the Piso Térreo (ground floor), and we double-back through the Sala Verde to continue the tour.

    Damn that polar bear is cool, though.


     

    As we leave the royal apartments, we enter a dim, shabby corridor obviously intended for servants, then back into a public space at the bottom of a the grand Escada. To our left is the Capela, very enjoyable for its modesty and intimacy, and for the moulded stars on the walls.

    Down from the Escada is the entry vestibule, where coaches or cars might arrive from the courtyard. This joins a long, public corridor which doubles as a painting gallery – some of the larger pieces are difficult to appreciate as the space is not that deep.

    For example, just near the entry of the dining room, among all the dimly-lit royal portraits, there is a very large and striking canvas depicting farm workers in the vineyards. The museum staff could empty one of the small rooms (maybe the Pink Room), and give that image the air to come alive – just a thought.

    The Casa de Jantar da Rainha, the 'informal' dining room, is generous and handsome. With an appealing warmth, there is enough room for a dozen or so royals to enjoy a family meal. Behind the dining room is the Sala de Bilhar (billiards), evidently the King's favorite after-dinner activity.

      


     

     

    Upstairs is the Andar Nobre, or in architectural (Italian) terms, the piano nobile; this is where all the important events take place. At the top of the Escada is another wonderful ceiling, a ballustrade looking up to heaven's gate. There, Father Time (St Peter?), his scythe and hour-glass at his feet, seems to expel a non-believer, whose offering of roses hides a snake. I love that at the heights of heaven is a perfect little tempietto. As a visitor, you know now you've arrived.

    The Andar Nobre contains a series of themed rooms for big, formal gatherings. There is the Sala do Retrato da Rainha, and then the Sala das Senhoras do Corpo Diplomático and the Sala do Corpo Diplomático, a room for the diplomats' wives as well as one for the diplomats themselves (gender lines clearly drawn).

    From there, the Sala do Trono (throne room) is currently closed. I believe this would be the area directly over the eastern entrance. Opposite this, is the Sala dos Grandes Jantares, the banquet hall – still used today for Portuguese state dinners. The room label says the hall seats one hundred and eighty people around a very long U-shaped table.

    The biggest room gets the biggest ceiling (top image of this post). Apollo with his harp, on his sun-chariot, is at the center. All around him are angels (and fairies?) hanging garlands in the clouds. I especially like looking up at the painted Corinthian columns and piers in the corners, and the dentils at the edge of the cornice. One column is catching the light from the imaginary windows at the imaginary upper level, while the other stays in shadow – nicely done.

     

     

    Before we leave, there's one more Escada and one more ceiling. Studying the construction, I cannot figure out how it's built. We seem to be under some kind of arched pavilion, with another harp player in a terra-cotta roundel. The arches are below another painted ceiling supported by pairs of Composite columns set above a quatrefoil-shaped balustrade. All these curved and circular elements are painted on a physical surface that is itself curved; the effect is 'trippy'.


    The stairs take us back down to the ticket hall, where we depart the Palácio. Looking for a place to have lunch, we come upon a restaurant called Páteo Alfacinha, an 'hidden' eatery and event space behind a block of standard-looking apartment blocks. At the base of these contemporary blocks is what looks to be part of an old hillside town, jammed atop the edge of a sheer drop, overlooking an old quarry and the Ponte 25 de Abril – good views and snacks on a bright, early fall day.


     

    One more stop after lunch, in to the Jardim Botânico da Ajuda. Again, having looked at the phone app map, I assumed the gardens went with the royal house, but they pre-date the Palácio by a few decades. It was built by the Marquês de Pombal as an educational garden for the royal princes, and is now run by the Universidade de Lisboa.

    The upper level contains a marvelous collection of flowering plant beds and a few ancient trees. Two in particular have grown out in such a way that they need some serious Seussian engineering to hold them up: a spiky and wide tree held from above by suspension cables, and a super-dense fern-like tree held from below by an iron grid and posts.

    The lower level is a symmetrical, Baroque maze of crisp boxwoods and sandy paths. There are two smaller, circular fountains on either end, and one enormous, elaborate fountain in the center. There is quite a lot of water pressure in the central fountain, with fish, seahorses, frogs, and snakes spitting up and out - a glorious, wet, and writhing mass.

    From the lower garden, there are views back to the Palácio and the construction underway at the western, 'unfinished' end. It appears to be an ultra-modern, white stone and glass facade. At first I thought it was a scaffold or structure to hold the discontinued building from collapse, but on further consideration, I think they are tacking-on some office space. I hope I'm wrong (looks like I'm not, fingers crossed, it may turn out okay).

     


     

     

     

     

     


    cases: 32,752,246 global • 7,244,184 USA • 72,055 Portugal
    deaths: 992,979 global • 208,440 USA • 1,936 Portugal