The logistics for Estremoz (pop 14,318 in 2011) is easy. There is a plentiful parking right in the center of town, at the site of the Mercadinho (a similar setup to Tocha's). Upon our arrival, we find an enormous renovation project underway on the south side of the lot, and a good portion of it behind shuttering – no problem with parking, though the rain is another matter.
We cross the Praça Luis de Camões and head up an alley where we notice the stairs to the Castelo. Today is José Saramago's centenary and we are, again, relying on the master for guidance:
The traveller came to know little more than the upper town in Estremoz, where the old town and castle are enclosed. The roads within the city walls are narrow. From there on down the area opens out, less into a town than into a city. Estremoz stretches forth so far it almost loses sight of its origins, while still encircling the celebrated Torre das Tres Coroas [the Tower of Three Garlands] with its obvious attractions. Nowhere else has the traveller so strongly experienced the demarcation that can be made by city walls between those within and those without. Of course, the impression made can only be a personal one, thus subject to a caution which naturally the traveller lacks. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)
A pair of friendly, feral dogs follow us through the squat stone portal and into the upper town. Other dogs pop their heads over the dilapidated partitions but do no bark. Feral cats haunt most other villages, but here playful dogs govern the roads between the empty white row houses. The Rua da Rainha Santa Isabel does not impress until the marble towers appear.
The Largo Dom Dinis is a gridded, remainder space between an unusual collection of constructions. By virtue of its height, the Torre das Três Coroas dominates the square. The Igreja de Santa Maria appears to have had its top sheared off; small, irregular marble pieces appear to dangle on the roof edge. Next to the Igreja is the torre sineira and two small capelas: the larger one, the Paços do Concelho Medieval, is now an art gallery; and the other, the Capela de Senhor Jesus dos Inocentes, is open-air (in honor of orphaned children). Facing the Torre is the Museu Municipal Professor Joaquim Vermelho. And to one side is the Pátio da Capela da Rainha Santa Isabel.
The rain is steady, so we seek shelter in the Igreja de Santa Maria (Igreja Matriz de Estremoz, sixteenth century). On the west-facing facade, the variegated stone of the thick corner pilasters and the thinner interior pair match the Torre's. A large round window hangs over a beautiful Ionic doorway, but the facade is otherwise feature-less.
The design is attributed to Miguel de Arruda, son of Francisco de Arruda (who designed the Antiga Sé in Elvas). Miguel is also responsible for the Sé in Leiria (which also had a 'funny top' situation), and the Igreja de Miserícordia de Santarém, which we enjoyed tremendously (where we beta-tested our Saramago travel system in 2020).
Inside, we are greeted by an English-speaking docent named Nuno, who turns on the lights, and generously guides us around the artwork.
We enter near the Capela Baptismal, where there is an astonishing old fresco of São Miguel Arcanjo. Faded but vibrant, the center panel shows the Archangel slaying Satan, with the scales of justice and his sword. Below, a crowd awaits judgement, and below them is the font. On the return corners are four saints, the two on the interior are faring much better than those on the exterior corner. Only the fellow in the upper right is identified: São Filipe (O Evangelista, baptized an Ethiopian eunuch; and oddly, is spelled "Philipi", which is not Latin, Portuguese, or Spanish).
As the lights warm, the Ionic columns take on a grand scale. We notice they are turned ninety-degrees from the Capela-mor, and emphasize the intriguing side chapels.
The central element on the north chapel also highlights São Miguel Arcanjo, almost a painted-canvas variation of the fresco at the entrance, laid flat. The side images maybe 'the' Four Evangelists, but it is difficult to see through the reflections. The Evangelists are focused on their writings, and not the unsettling activity between them; angels are tackling the undeserving. This piece is titled 'A Altar das Almas' ('Altar of the Souls of Purgatory', according to the pamphlet). On the retable, are three figures, Nossa Senhora flanked by a pope (the mitre?) and Saint Peter (holding keys?).
On the south side, Nossa Senhora again flanked by two angels, but larger and darker. They are framed by a gilt Corinthian colonnade that also rises and abruptly ends. But then, a series of fresco portraits of the Twelve Apostles soars over this trio. A thin rectangular window glows with beveled marble, and a circular window reflects painted motifs. The ensemble is remarkably striking, especially given our entrance from the far corner (the Altar das Almas and Capela-mor are not at first visible).
This is the Altar de Nossa Senhora das Brotas – brotas translates to buds, sprouts, or springs (and refers to 'giving birth' to Christ, as well as the freguesia where the apparition appeared). The frescos carry the label,"quadros primitivos da escola portuguesa", and are truly marvelous and vibrant, not just as individual works but in their scale, arrangement, and longevity.
The Capela-mor is, of course, dedicated to Santa Maria. Paintings of Her Assunção and Coranação rise above the figure. As at Santarém, there is a wonderful carved stair and pulpit wrapped at the base of a column. In fact, all the stonework and the marble are strikingly fresh and well maintained.
We give our thanks to Nuno for his generous guidance and an enlightening visit.
Whitewashed with chalk, employing marble as if it were an everyday stone, the houses in the upper city are of themselves reason enough to visit Estremoz. But on its summit is also the aforementioned tower, with its decorative balconied battlements, along with the remains of King Dinis’ Palace and its portals of twinned colonnades where the traveller discovered pictures of the moon and of lambs. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)
Separated from the Igreja by a skinny path, and at a slight angle to the Praça, is the Paços do Concelho Medieval (thirteenth century), incorporating portions of the palace of Dom Dinis. The small central-plan building includes the Gothic loggia, which sits under the torre sineira. Specifically, these are the remains of the Paço da Audiência, where the king would hold meetings, which later became the City Council room, and is now managed by the Museu Municipal de Estremoz; it shows contemporary art works (Galeria Municipal Dom Dinis).
We did find the moon and the lambs (are they lambs?).
Attached just to the south of the Paços is the Capela de Senhor Jesus dos Inocentes (recently cleaned; eighteenth century).
The Capela sits on a miradouro, with a fantastic Mannerist statue of Rainha Santa Isabel (top-most image). The Queen is holding a bunch of roses, transformed by a miracle from bread that she hid from Dom Dinis and intended for the needy. Champion of the poor, and peacemaker, she is credited with helping negotiate the Tratado do Alcanizes (1297), which set the borders between Portugal and Spain. A later story tells of her stopping a war between her son Dom Alfonso IV and King Alfonso XI of Castile – after the negotiations, she took ill and died here in Estremoz.
The miradouro is a good one. Immediately behind the Queen is an old, ruined hall (Assento Real), but beyond the battlements are luxuriant hills and farms to the southwest. The vistas are phenomenal.
Access to the Capela da Rainha Santa Isabel (eighteenth century) is available from the staff in the Galeria, who keep the keys.
Here too is the eighteenth-century chapel to the saintly Queen Isabel, with its theatrical choir stalls and extravagantly ornamented tiles representing stages in the life of the miraculous lady who transformed bread into roses, since she was unable to transform roses into bread. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)
The young lady walks us past the Torre, to the Pátio da Capela. On the way she asks of our interest in the Capela, and we tell her about the mention in Saramago's "Viagem". She smiles and acknowledges the name-drop, but does not press. We ask if the Capela is a popular destination, and she emphatically replies that it is.
Through an iron gate and an iron-braced wooden door, we arrive at the threshold. The door surround is Baroque marble, with the royal crest and a garland of roses. Turning the bolt, she creaks open the door to reveal an azulejos wainscot and a stained, discolored stair.
We turn from the landing into an antechamber, where the colors recover, and then into the Capela, where the colors burst like fireworks. Our eyes jump to the ceiling fresco of the Assunção da Virgem, who is joined in Her ascent by Rainha Santa Isabel, wearing a nun's habit and crown. Interesting that there are quite a few 'dark' angels, and the 'Father' of the Holy Trinity is also 'dark'.
The history of the Capela is truly unusual. In 1659, after the Portuguese victory at the Linhas de Elvas, and where Rainha Santa Isabel convalesced and died from the plague, Rainha Luísa de Gusmão orders the old bedroom converted into an oratory. In 1698 the west tower is destroyed in an ordnance explosion (Alto Alentejo towns do explode). Then, in 1715, the current Capela is built by order of Dom João V.
The walls are covered in miracles, both in painting and azulejos. For example, the two azulejos panels near the choir show: Rainha Santa Isabel parting the waters to pay homage to Santa Iria; and 'A Lenda da Mulinha' (according to the pamphlet), Rainha Santa Isabel riding her mule to Alvalade to broker peace between her husband Dom Dinis and her son Infante Dom Afonso.
Over the entrance is the Coro and an incredible marble dedication, given to 'Elisabeth' by the people of Estremoz in 1808 for her divine intervention during the Invasões Francesas. This is topped by the Queen's coat of arms, joining Portugal and Aragon.
She stopped quite a few wars.
The Altar-mor holds a small statue of Rainha Santa Isabel with her roses, as well as standing in them, surrounded by more and more local marble. To her left is the figure of São Filipe Néri and to her right is São Lázaro, who is also depicted as a dark man (he was Palestinian). His many gruesome wounds are signs he was raised by Jesus after four days of death.
Behind the Altar is a tiny prayer room which extends into the turret that is on the north side of the building, with a time-worn altarpiece bedecked in roses. The room may predate the eighteenth century work, and seems a suitably humble and low (ie the ceiling is low) space for a Queen who would become a nun.
Another door leads to a small Sacristia, with a patterned ceiling and, in the roundel above the vestment cabinet, a man intensely reading his Bible while holding a bouquet of roses.
On the way out, we thank the docent and receive a reminder on behalf of the Queen, God is great: Annuntiate inter gentes gloriam eius, in omnibus populis mirabilia eius (Ps 95v3).
Opposite the Pátio da Capela is the Museu Municipal de Estremoz Prof. Joaquim Vermelho in the former Hospício de Caridade (Hospice of Charity, which may explain the nearby Capela de Senhor Jesus dos Inocentes). The town and this Museu are famous for bonecos, earthenware figurines.
We jump from an oratory dedicated to a sainted Queen, to a local museu dedicated to folk art. The docent does not speak English and gestures the route. We find another pamphlet as well as a museum guide. The first rooms have Artesanato (handicrafts): carved wood, horn, and cork from the 1940's convey a sense of rural living. There is hard work and marginal living, but also pleasure and time for expressive crafts.
The next few rooms are a Casa Alentejana: a kitchen, living room, and bedroom that act as a thoughtfully presented time capsule. First, the cozinha is in the building's original kitchen. There is furniture, cookware, and utensils as well as several unique displays. Over the broad fireplace are several chavões, which are used to mark cakes and breads in the public ovens. It is a special craft making these. And there are more carved horns 'in situ' as containers. And a rope with chevron-shaped wooden handle, which may be used to lift heavy pots.
The casa de fora is a sitting-dining-living space. The objects here are much more colorful and, we assume, considered personal as well as useful. In the quarto, there are intimate objects as well as a few religious pieces. A small framed leaflet seems to be from a local padaria.
Hung beside the bed is a an almost frightening unfolded box with small drawings of the Stations of the Cross (oratório), and a statuette of Christ in bondage – not what we'd expect in the bedroom, but to each his/her own. This passage is in the museum label for this piece:
José Saramago refere esta peça na obra Viagem a Portugal, dizendo o seguinte (José Saramago refers to this piece in the work Viagem a Portugal, saying the following):
O Ecce Homo de Estremoz comove por ser uma representação do divino ou um íntimo retrato do humano? (Is 'Ecce Homo de Estremoz' moved by being a representation of the divine or an intimate portrait of the human?)
A glance out the window reveals the worsening weather, and a small gridded yard with stone implements, orange trees, and those incredible views.
As we descend to the ticket office, we wonder what happened to the bonecos that so excited Saramago.
Here too the Municipal Museum, which boasts much to see and little to forget.
The traveller ignores the pieces he knew he’d be able to find without too much trouble in other museums, in order to gaze at his leisure upon the clay dolls called after Estremoz. “Wonder at them,” says he, “wonder—there’s no happier name for it.” Hundreds of little figurines arranged with good taste and judgment and each one worthy of slow examination. The traveller doesn’t know which way to turn: they’re called popular pieces, showing scenes of rural labour or Christmas cribs fit for a house altar, toys of diverse inspiration; it’s a world that cannot be catalogued item by item… “Oh, how magical! he says over and over again. You’ll go to Estremoz, you’ll see its little dolls and you’ll save your soul.” That’s a saying invented by the traveller to bequeath to posterity. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)
When we return to the bilheteria, the docent opens the door behind the counter and waves us toward the next series of rooms. Hah, there's more; the Bonecos de Estremoz are here. In layered glass cases are armies of bonecos. The first room seems to have religious-themed dolls, most standing individuals, others marching in formation. Through an archway is a barrista table modeled after one belonging to a 1940's artisan.
The next rooms contain more figures: kings and cowboys, women picking vegetables and others cooking a pig. There are pairs that display brutal forms of dentistry and medicine (?), and yet more preparing for the local festival.
After a long, slow stroll, we are back in the bilheteria, where the docent opens yet another door to the courtyard, and our tour continues. The last few rooms present Faiança e Olaria de Estremoz, local stoneware and pottery. Again, full of handmade patterns and colors, pieces from the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. In a few cases, the bonecos have invaded these crafts, too.
Crossing the Praça, we find the wind-driven drops peppering our faces. In the upper town, there is one last stop, the Torre das Três Coroas, and we really hope things calm down before we go up. To access the Torre, we apply at the Pousada. There we meet the same lady who brought us to our rooms in Vila Viçosa. After a transfer, she starts her new position today. We exchange greetings, and she wishes us luck.
Mist gathers at the top of the Torre. Gazing skyward is a hazard now. A short flight of uneven steps brings us to a crenellated balcony. We pass the billiards room; Rainha Santa Isabel's standard is hung on the far wall, behinds the games tables. A squat, open door leads to a a tall, vaulted hall. We hear the protective plastic snapping and the wind whistling.
From the upper room, we can step out to the machicolations. Two corbeled balconies wrap the corners over the Praça, and one overlooks the Pousada's courtyard. The pigeons are in charge up here.
The weather at the top is not good, but it is strangely calm. The clouds dull the hills, but the village and farmland vistas are still amazing. Looking down on the torre sineira, we note the polychrome tiles. On the Igreja de Santa Maria's roof edge there is one stone fragment and one light fixture, but the remaining 'irregularities' are pigeons.
Another delicious Portuguese lunch at Mercearia Gadanha (crispy prawns, duck rice, a stunning frozen-apple desert). Lunches in the Alto Alentejo lack for nothing.
Just down the street is the Museu Berardo Estremoz, in the old Palácio Tocha, all about azulejos. The Museu, which opened in 2020, offers an eight-hundred-page catalog as a download. The galleries are fresh and comfortable, but there are no docents. The route starts in fifteenth century Sevilla, and the heritage of tile-making left by the Islamic Al-ándalus.
This culminates in two exceptional Portuguese panels from the sixteenth century (Reconstrucción de un zócalo de azulejos de arista a la manera sevillana).
In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, Christian imagery dominates, but the Museu adds a compelling mix of 'common-place' items, such as address markers and signage.
On the next floor, the tiles are organized as 'rooms', with designs on the ceilings as well as arrangements on the walls. For example, the two heroic panels featuring the sun and moon face each other, as they might have in some palace or expensive villa (Nicolau de Freitas, Painel de azulejos, Lua “Pulchra ut Luna” e Sol “Electa ut Sol”, Lisboa c1740).
Other panels tell stories, such as the Macacaria: Assédio a uma fortaleza (Lisboa c1660-70), as green monkeys overrun a fortress. Or another where fish, lobster, rabbit, and turkey are hung over a fireplace (Querubim Lapa, Painel de azulejos, Lisboa, 1968). Eventually, printed multi-colored design appear in the ehxhibit (Painel de azulejos de padrão, Alemanha (?), final do século XIX).
The upper floor brings us up to date, starting in the late eighteenth century, with a panel that is easy to see as the arch of a church chapel, with two smaller niches for saints (Registo, Nossa Senhora da Conceição, Santo António, São Marçal e São Sebastião, Lisboa, c1770-1790). The twentieth century offers a delightful furniture warehouse ad (António Costa, Fábrica de Cerâmica Lusitânia, Painel de azulejos, Grandes Armazéns das Ilhas, Lisboa, c1930).
Finally, the exhibition ends with work from contemporary artists like José António Jorge Pinto (Fábrica de Cerâmica Constância Painel de azulejos, Lisboa, c1903-1905), and four pieces by Jorge Barradas (Fábrica de Cerâmica Viúva Lamego Painel de azulejos, "Menino a tocar flauta", "Menina a brincar com um arco de flores", "Menino a tocar tambor", and "Menina a segurar a saia", Lisboa, 1970).
Now almost fully dry, we hurry across the Largo General Graça to the Igreja de São Francisco. This is listed as a Gothic church (thirteenth century), but the facade is Baroque (eighteenth century). We allow Saramago to guide the tour:
Having contemplated the endlessly rolling landscape he could glimpse here and there, he goes down into the lowlands, another way of saying that he went to Rossio where, just outside, there stands the church dedicated to St Francis. Here also is the monastery where King Pedro I died, leaving his heart to the monks. If it’s true the brothers inherited this gift, when the Day of Resurrection occurs in Alcobaça, Pedro will no longer have a heart to bestow upon his Inês.In St Francis there’s a beautiful seventeenth-century Tree of Jesse … (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)
He’s on the point of leaving when, providentially, he catches sight of a tomb nearby, set into a proudly sculpted arch, showing a bearded personage lying down, ministered to by a cherub with spread wings and displaying the soles of its feet (a sign that it could walk as well as fly), fronted by two coats of arms, emblazoned with half-moons and two powerful cats with, in between them, a hunting scene, with the master on horseback, falcon on wrist, and a man with a lance blowing his horn, while another urges on the hounds who are barking and snapping at a wild boar. The traveller heaves a sigh of relief. Finally, under this funeral arch life breaks through with a force that swallows up the hyper-reality of the terrible saints and mollifies their scorn of the world. Like Dom Pedro de Barcelos in São João de Tarouca, this Vasco Esteves de Gatos desires to take the memory of happy days spent hunting in the hillsides with him, galloping along behind the hounds, while the trumpet sounded and the trees bloomed. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)
We are starting to lose the light, but there should be enough for one more nearby location. The online photos of the Castelo de Évora Monte (early fourteenth century, sixteenth century) are just so distinct – it looks like something made by children with a plastic bucket from sand on a beach. The way to the Castelo is an adventure along a single lane, with two-way traffic, pinched between the hill and a feeble white rail. We take one hairpin around a small capela (Ermida de São Sebastião), then another brings us to the barbican and the Rua da Convenção.
Parking research indicates only a tiny lot for a half dozen cars just on the left of the Rua.
The moment to go to Évora Monte has come. It’s close at hand and on his way. This was the village where Dom Miguel surrendered to Dom Pedro, as we all learnt in school.
They say that the Paço de Homenagem is of Italian inspiration. It must be, for the traveller has never seen anything like it around these parts: a square central body which dissolves into little circular cubes at its corners. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)
What are "circular cubes"? Whatever they are, we're looking at them. Of all the castelos we've visited, this one, especially in the fog, is surreal – the shape of it, the odd cords and knots, the staggered portholes. The hues of the strange, streaked surface are simultaneously bright and dull. The design is by Diogo and Francisco de Arruda – the Manueline architects of Tomar and Belém. We can hardly believe that attribution is correct.
The lady inside the bilheteira is on the phone, and her conversation echoes into the chamber. The emplacements are filled with stone markers with metal banding (fragments of older construction?), which have Templar crosses, stars, and rosettes, and are all neatly spread on red felt runners. Despite the large, illustrated pamphlet, no explanation for the markers is given.
Inside, the effect is magnificent, with heavy columns supporting vaults that rise to three storeys high, each of them different, vaults as well as columns, the rooms communicating openly with the little hexahedrons. The surroundings look truly Renaissance, suitable for parties or similar celebrations…
The traveller, intrigued, observes the columns on the lowest level: at its base, and all the way around, there are carved braziers. Why braziers? What fire is this, frozen in the stone of Évora Monte? The traveller’s baggage is already laden with enigmas, so hopefully this one won’t set the rest alight. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)
Each central chamber includes four stout columns. On the ground level they are spiraled and described as 'Manueline' in the pamphlet; they don't look Manueline. On the next level, the columns are a bit taller and chamfered, with rounded bases emerging from the stone. In the upper chamber, they are smaller with defined square bases.
Our journey is rewarded when we reach the terraço. There's only a light mist now, but the fog is starting to get heavy. Views to the southwest uncover a small village along the Rua, ending in the Igreja Paroquial. To the northwest is the Ermida, a short distance from the Castelo. To the northeast is the barbican gate and another capela (Ermida de Santa Margarida) a bit further east. The vineyards, olive groves, and cork trees form a mosaic quilt in all directions.
The November weather chases us into the car, and a heavy storm chases us all the way to the Pousada in Vila Viçosa. But we share a lively conversation about landscapes, architecture, and tiles – and about gratitude. We are privileged to travel into this wet but wondrous countryside. As the aisles of grapevines and crowds of livestock flash by, we remember Saramago's gift, too, somewhat in disbelief that a world-talent would 'lower' himself and write a tourist guide. But of course, his intention is to share his homeland, not just the quality of the food and service, but the old legends of this thousands-years old nation – a summons to go to the places and meet the people where the culture lives.
The journey is never over. Only travellers come to an end. But even then they can prolong their voyage in their memories, in recollections, in stories. When the traveller sat in the sand and declared: “There’s nothing more to see,” he knew it wasn’t true… You have to start the journey anew. Always. The traveller sets out once more. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)
Tomorrow is our last day in the Alto Alentejo.
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