Coimbra – Quarto Dia (25 de Abril)

Today is the Dia da Liberdade, and the fiftieth anniversary of 25 de Abril. We have tickets for the train home early this afternoon, so have time this morning to see how Coimbra does things. The locals in the shops and restaurants report that there is to be a parade down the Rua Visconde da Luz to the Praça Oito de Maio.

Returning to the Praça, we don't have to wait long for the marching bands to begin playing. The drums echo from the Rua, maybe from the direction of the Praça do Comércio. Soon the first band appears in front of the Igreja de Santa Cruz and stomps up the ramp to the terrace of the Câmara Municipal.

As we hoped when we planned this 'escape', there are no crazy crowds. Maybe three or four bands go by, but otherwise the Praça looks much as it does on every other day – pleasant and enjoyable.

For us, the one area of Coimbra's Alta that remains unexplored is the 'north side', we head there now. We first find the Museu da Santa Casa da Misericórdia (seventeenth century), which has the Baroque pediment that we see from below.

The traveller goes out in pouring rain. He goes to visit the Casa do Navio, then returns to Alta, and can’t visit Coimbra without looking at the Casa de Sub-Ripas, so worm-eaten, sadly for us and for it, and the Torre de Anto, where António Nobre lived out his final and true Castilian vocation. The traveller doesn’t know whether anyone lives there today. He could have checked it out, but it didn’t occur to him. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)

 

 

 

We seek out the Torre de Anto and the Casa de Sub-Ripas (sixteenth century), two vertical structures on the edge of the west-facing slope connected by an elevated stone corridor. Two inscriptions on the Torre explain Saramago's reference to the nineteenth century poet:

O poeta aqui viveu no oiro do seu Sonho

Por isso a Torre esguia o nome veiu d'Anto

Legenda d'Alma Só e coração tristonho

Que poetas ungiu na graça do seu pranto

[The poet here lived in the gold of his Dream

That's why the slender Tower got its name from Anto

Legend of the Soul Alone and sad heart

What poets anointed in the grace of their weeping]

Esta Torre de Anto foi assim chamada por António Nobre, o grande poeta do Só, que nela morou e a cantou nos seus versos. E habitou-a mais tarde Alberto d'Oliveira, ilustre escritor e diplomata, o grande amigo de António Nobre e e da Coimbra amada.

[This Tower of Anto was so called by António Nobre, the great poet of Só, who lived in it and sang it in his verses. And it was later inhabited by Alberto d'Oliveira, an illustrious writer and diplomat, the great friend of António Nobre and beloved Coimbra.]

Beside the Torre, a narrow view opens to the Mondego, and a large shopping center on the opposite bank. The cobbled road drops to a funnel-like arch, the Torre da Contenda. The Casa is on the other side within the picturesque snarl of sinuous stone alleys.

We continue our unhurried, meandering way, back to the Torre da Almedina and down to the Praça do Comercio. We encounter the marching bands again, as they are stationed at various intersections on the route down to the river.

 

 

 

 

 

Our walk eventually takes us to Parque Manuel Braga. By now, musicians are walking past, their instruments stowed in cases. They join a flock of families enjoying the rest of the holiday, passing through the formal garden, to an esplanade lined with eateries. We turn around at a Parque Infantil where Urso, a large bear made of faux grass, stands sentry.

We say goodbye to Coimbra at the Igreja de Santiago (twelfth century), which happens to be open this afternoon. Various conservation projects appear to be under way, as the saint, dressed in blue, is waiting beside his chapel.

It's a charming church; its bones are Romanesque and shares something with the Sé Velha. There is a lovely Gothic chapel, and a barroco joanino altarpiece. Like the city it inhabits, it is a record and a product of its deep history. It is a work of assemblage, of pieces being put back together, but still a work in progress.

 

 

 

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UPDATE (April 30th) – a few days after 25 de Abril, we are in the Largo do Carmo, Lisboa, and part of a tour at the Quartel of the Guarda Nacional Republicana (nineteenth century). This is the historic site where Marcello Caetano and Américo Tomás surrendered to Salgueiro Maia and ended the Estado Novo dictatorship.

The Quartel is embellished with banners and markers commemorating the day, including some new ones:

25 de Abril

Esta é a madrugada que en esperava

O dia inicial inteiro e limpo

Onde emergimos da noite e do silencio

E livres habitamos a substância do tempo

[This is the dawn I was waiting for

The whole and clean starting day

Where we emerged from the night and the silence

And free we inhabit the substance of time] 

   Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen

   Homenagem do Presideme da Repubtica

   Jorge Sampaio

   no 30 aniversatio da. Revolucao

   25.04.2004

Encontro de Jovens

evocando os 50 anos do

25 de Abril.

Homenagem do

Presidente da Republica, Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa

 

There are even some in the Largo and on the Convento do Carmo (fifteenth century) next door:

A SALGUEIRO MAIA

LEMBRANDO O

25 DE ABRIL DE 1974

HOMENAGEM DA CIDADE DE LISBOA 

CML 1992 

25 ABRIL 1974

LARGO DO CARMO E QUARTEL DO CARMO

Cerco ao Quartel do Carmo da GNR onde se refugiou Marcelo Caetano, por uma força da EPC. Conversações com vista à rendição. Saída de Marcelo Caetano e ministros para o Posto de Comando da Pontinha

25 DE ABRIL 2024

 

The Museu gives a comprehensive look at the Revolução dos Cravos: newspapers, logbooks, photos, even an Enciclopédia from the GNR library split by a bullet hole.

The guide treats us to a glimpse inside the Quartel, where there are tile panels with images of the Convento, reminiscent of those at the Justiça in Coimbra, and a wide balcony with sweeping views of the Castelo de São Jorge and the city's hills. We scan between the red roofs and imagine the largos and praças filled with hundreds of thousands chanting: Vitória! Vitória!

 

 

 

 

 

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UPDATE (May 1st) – Primeiro de Maio is the Dia do Trabalhador. Another marching band, or at least the drum corps, is stationed on the Avenida Almirante Reis below our apartment window.

This is also a fiftieth anniversary, of May 1st, 1974, a gathering of the major the leaders of Portugal and their supporters, at the Estádio Primiero de Maio in Alvalade, to celebrate the Revolução.

Because the Portuguese, from all backgrounds and viewpoints, assemble in peace and celebration, Mário Soares declares:

Valeu a pena ter lutado, valeu a pena ter sofrido para assistir a esta festa. Foi hoje e foi aqui que destruímos o fascismo.

[It was worth fighting, it was worth having suffered to attend this party. It was today, it was here, that we destroyed fascism.] ("The Portuguese Carnation Revolution", José Medeiros Ferreira, Shantarin, 2024)

December 7th is the centenary of Soares' birth.

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UPDATE (May 13th) – For an explainer of the Revolução dos Cravos, this YouTube from ARTE.tv is quite good (German w English subtitles):

Coimbra – Terceiro Dia

The day's first order of business is filling in some of yesterday's gaps – we are off to see Rainha Santa Isabel's azulejos. Yesterday's research includes a poster of a tile panel in the Palacio da Justiça, the former Colégio de São Tomás (sixteenth and nineteenth centuries), though the tiles panels date from 1934. 

Today is the day before the fiftieth anniversary of the 25 de Abril and a carnation-carrying crowd is waiting to pass through security. After some confusion in the entrance, the guards walk us through the metal detectors and allow us to enter the claustro. The crowds must be off in a court room or other meeting space because the building's public spaces are empty.

In the claustro, we discover an entire cycle of historical scenes, and easily find the panel. The panel is signed by Jorge Colaço who also installed the heroic panels in São Bento in Porto. Though they are ninety years old, they look nearly brand new, with a blemish-free sheen. The near life-size image depicts the Milagre das Rosas: before a group of the poor and hungry, Dom Dinis on his horse asks the Rainha Santa to open her apron and expose the roses. In another scene, the Rainha Santa prevents a civil war between her husband and her son Afonso at the Batalha de Alvalade. 

Upstairs, rather than matching the height of the doors and columns, the tiles go right to the cornice. These panels show scenes from the life of Dom Afonso Henriques, and the important battles fought, and the nation established. The telework continues into the stiarwell, where we see São Jorge and Egas Moniz, both key to Portugal's founding – the image of Moniz is like one in São Bento.

For sure, Justiça is a hidden gem; we wonder, what tourist would bother to track down a courthouse to look at the tiles. We send our silent thanks to the open-hearted docents at Santa Clara-a-Nova.

 

 

 

 

We find a comfortable brunch place with excellent views of the Praça Oito de Maio and Santa Cruz. A group of older citizens gathers on the terrace edge, clearly about to receive red carnations – perhaps participants in the Revolução.

After coffee and croissant, we walk around the corner to the Jardim da Manga (sixteenth century), with its strikingly unique, eight-columned templete and the L-shaped piscinas, designed by João de Ruão. An old drawing of Mosteiro de Santa Cruz identifies the existing Claustro do Anjo, also indicates the Claustro da Manga and the domed temple enclosed by the Malaposta, Correiro, and the Dormitório da Catacumba ("Pormenor da carta de 1845", Pr Dr José Bento Viera, Santa Cruz de Coimbra: Arte e História, Coimbra, 2001).

No longer 'cloistered', the four torres contain ruined altars dedicated to four saints: São João Baptista, São Paulo-o-Eremita, São Jerónimo, and Santo Antão. Somewhere we hope there's a museum case with all their heads.

Once outside, he was the only living person to brave the rain falling in torrents. He turns off downhill, goes into the Jardim da Manga, which now resembles a pond, and sets off to admire the little temple, so reminiscent of the church at Tocha. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)

 

 

 

 

 

Across the street is the Fonte dos Judeus (eighteenth century), which stands at the entrance to the city's old Jewish Quarter. And nearby is the Pátio da Inquisição.

We are too late to catch the morning action in the Mercado Municipal (nineteenth century, remodel 2001), but image it is a wonderful market hall and social space for the city. And across from the Mercado are the touristic tiles panels on either side of the Fonte da Madalena. These lead up to the Avenida Sá da Bandeira, with its broad, park-like jardim, and on up to the Praça da República. Unfortunately, the jardim is crisscrossed with construction projects, apparently all part of the city's effort to install a new metro system – perhaps this explains some of the construction near the train station, too.

 

 

 

 

The Praça da República connects to the Parque de Santa Cruz, a formal layout with fountains, elaborate stairways, and tiled seating areas. We enter through a grand archway, between two square gatehouses with the figures of A Caridade, a Fé, e a Esperança (charity, faith, and hope). The Jogo da Péla is an elongated sandy court separated by curbs to host an old form of tennis.

At the center of the Parque is a cascata (water feature) dedicated to Nossa Senhora de Conceição. The cascata is bookended by two tall, elliptical painéis de azulejos. On the left, between the figures of São Lucas (ox) and São João (eagle) is a scene from Genesis (chapter 21) of Sara e Agar no Deserto (Sara and Agar in the desert). On the right between São Mateus and São Marcus (lion) is O Profeta Eliseu Lançando Sal nas Águas de Jericó (Eliseu salting the water).

We follow the water through the trees to a small clearing with a pool. There is the water source, a tritão (triton) opens a dolphin's mouth. On the tiled bench we get the final explanation from Ezequiel (chapter 47):

Ecce aquae e grediebantur subter limen domus

[Behold, the waters came out from under the threshold of the house]

 

 

 

 

We leave the Parque from the Rua de Tomar but continue the water theme at the Aqueduto de São Sebastião (sixteenth century), but unlike yesterday, we approach from the east.

Here, we get a much better look at the aedicule which contains the saints, São Roque facing north, and São Sebastião facing south. On closer inspection, it appears to be a parallelogram, not rectangular in plan (note the 'fold' at the lintel), to align with the street (Rua de Santa Teresa). In fact, seven different streets intersect at three of the arches.

At this end, the Aqueduto is dotted with weeds and wildflowers. The saints seem none too pleased, though the general impression one of 'elegant decay'.

 

 

 

Past the main arch of the Aqueduto is the entrance to the Casa Museu Bissaya Barreto (1925), the former residence of a much-loved medical professor and philanthropist. The Casa Museu is right across from the Jardim Botânico and is a tiny Eden of quiet and calm.

Cypress trees frame the beautiful split entrance stair. A quartet of water nymphs welcome us to the forecourt. On our left, a kind of grotto filled with sculptural elements fills the area to the Aqueduto, interrupted today by the ropes and tarps of a maintenance project. And on our right, a path leads up a lawn with flowering bushes. Blue and white azulejos step up the wall and form the seat backs of the benches near the extraordinary iron gate.

Climbing to the shady portico, we enter directly to the octagonal Hall, with a marble bust of Bissaya Barreto (1936, Raul Xavier), the owner's steady gaze balanced by the laughing faces in the over-scaled lantern suspended above him.

 

 

 

Our docent first guides us to the west wing and the Sala de Estar. Overhead, the palaces of Portugal fill the pale blue and pastel yellow, plaster cartouches, which surround a darker image of Leda e o Cisne (twentieth century, Fausto Gonçalves). A honey-toned portrait of a younger Bissaya Barreto (1927, José Malhoa) hangs at the mantle.

Next, the Sala de Jantar sparkles with the light from its chandelier, and the reflections from the crystal punchbowl and glass doors of the built-ins. Delicate decorative details string the fascias and the tile wainscot.

We return to the octagonal Hall and linger on the counterpointed statues near the door as well as the colorful quatrefoils in the dome; blue and yellow seem to be favorites.

The south wing includes both the Biblioteca and the Gabinete de Trabalho. A portrait of Joaquina Barreto Rosa (twentieth century, José Contente) hangs between the books, and is also visible from the desk in the office. Behind the desk is a summery, river landscape of Ponte de Lima (1910, Fausto Gonçalves).

 

 

 

 

Every hallway or passage is a mini art gallery, though the pieces are never crowded. There is restraint, symmetry, and thoughtfulness on display throughout the exhibit – and the docent remains patient as we inspect each.

The Quarto de Dormir is in the eastern corner of the building, facing the back gardens. The figurines tell an international story: Deuses da Felicidade from Japan, Buda from China, and an Indo-Portuguese Nossa Senhora.

The Galeria das Porcelanas da China occupies the back of the house, a converted space (former bedrooms) centered on an outstanding Corot riverscape (nineteenth century). Display cases on each end of the Galeria contain large chargers and tea servings (Companhia das Índias), while marble and alabaster bursts on pedestals float in the middle. 

 

 

 

The docent suggests we look in the basement for a special exhibit by local artist Inés Moura,"Entre Manhãs" ("between mornings") – images of bodies and limbs in motion, often mounted on or wrapping corners.

We go outside and re-enter the house from below, but the docent surprises us by greeting us there. And we are taken by the bright azulejos tiles as well; they tell the story of the Virgem Maria.

 

 

 

Back in the front garden, we are fascinated by the interactions of the walls and the Aqueduto, as well as the eclectic mix of statuary, architectural features, and the blue and white tilework (sixteenth century). Peeking between the plastic sheets, we see the brilliant restoration work being done.

The large female figures hold bunches of roses, perhaps a representation or homage to Rainha Santa Isabel. The estufa is dedicated to São Diogo, also connected to the Milagre das Rosas. But we are stumped by the potato-like rock strung from the pipe.

 

 

 

 

The Couraça de Lisboa doesn’t have fine monuments to offer. It is simply, as we said, a steep path, well situated for a view of Coimbra, that provincial town with two hats to wear: one of them its own, and the other on top, filled with knowledge and some immaterial prodigies. Had the traveller time, he’d seek out the plain, ordinary Coimbra, ignoring the university at its summit, and visit the houses along the Couraça de Lisboa, potter along the little streets leading to them and, by talking with the people, overcome the unthinking defensiveness of those who assume a mask over their normal features. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)

Avoiding the Universidade, the way home is past the Botânico and down the Couraça de Lisboa. 'Courage' may be in the name, but the rewards are the stunning views of the Mondego.

Later, coming back from dinner, we pass the Justiça and realize the glass in the courtroom is dramatically backlit.

Though the day's visits are sites 'around its edges', it's a tremendous day in "the plain, ordinary Coimbra".