By Devan Vanderpoel
The Brazilian city of Porto Alegre, along with its high rises, animated crowds, and rich Portuguese influence, dissolved abruptly as our van pierced through her extensive suburbs – travelling to the real reason we had even come here: the incredible Pao Dos Pobres institute.
We had arrived in Brazil exactly one week beforehand and, acclimated and in high spirits, we watched posh neighbourhoods and bustling shopping malls turn to derelict residential areas lined with the same eye-catching colours of graffiti that decorate the walls of most of Porto Alegre’s shops and buildings. In our lively bus sat myself and fellow students Monica Stanovic, Noa Fisch, Daniel Zhou, and Chloe Sautereau, while Ecolint teacher Edmundo Timm was in animated discussion in portuguese with the driver and art teacher Momar Seck nodded and pretended to understand. Behind them, Nilton Santolin, a Brazilian photographer who once roamed the historic halls of Pao Dos Pobres as an inventive and feverishly artistic young boy.
Nilton was born in Porto Alegre and spent seven years at Pao Dos Pobres, a boarding institution at the time. In 1984, he began work as a graphic designer, creating more than 80 logos for various companies. Soon afterwards, following several years as an assistant in a photography and communications studio, he decided to turn to photography himself.
“I liked it better”, he told me.
He went on to work for a political and cultural magazine for nearly 10 years, before being enamoured with culinary photography after being a friend invited him to illustrate a culinary column. Taking photos of food for chefs and restaurants became his primary expertise alongside architectural photography, until, of course, he discovered something a rising trend.
“There was this new thing known as photojournalism, which struck me, let’s say, and is something I identified myself with for a while. Even though it was not my favourite, it was something new and interesting nonetheless.”
“But there is something else about my past and photography”.
“During those years at Pao Dos Pobres, as a kid, I was away from home all week, going back occasionally on the weekends. I didn’t see my parents. I couldn’t piece my life together as one should, I think. But the camera, it helped me capture those moments, those memories I was making as a child. It pieced everything together and that’s where my interest in photos of daily life comes from. Now that I think about it, indeed, my past has everything to do with what I do.”
Nilson’s photography is marked by scenes of ordinary life in various and distinct cultural backgrounds, as well as a focus on individual portraits. He is currently working on a project he calls “Mes Amis” in which he makes portraits of those closest to him.
“There has to be a link [to Pao Dos Pobres], I believe. I think my years there taught me to live with people and to appreciate that and inspire me to capture “moments” of people. That is why for a long time I was very focused on taking such pictures, of individuals.”
It is not surprising that Nilton’s work in photography has been influenced by his years at Pao Dos Pobres, as the daily lives of the children at the school is so intertwined with the art and music that dominates the Brazilian culture.
We entered the school through an ancient-looking gate, under the gaze of a half-asleep security guard. Ahead of us, with the slender yellow and and eclectic symmetricality of German architecture, the main school building stood, hugging a small rubber-floored football field. The kids are, well, as kids are. We barely made it past the goalpost by the time a flock of 6 to 10 year olds had us surrounded. In every direction were wide eyes, smiles that seemed to stretch their cheeks too far, and an onslaught of “Hola! Hola! Hola! Hola! Eu estou Gabriel! Eu estou Luis!”. They spoke to us avidly, curiosity getting the better of even the shy ones – in rapid portuguese of course, which was fine.
Soon, we realized how difficult it is to communicate with kids in a foreign language. Suddenly there were more of them as news of our arrival spread. We found ourselves having to deal with a barrage of high-pitched portuguese. Once you thought you understood their question, you realize you cannot answer it, and when you can formulate a horrendously mispronounced reply, it is the children’s turn to be baffled. Or they start laughing uncontrollably, pointing fingers at one another. Then you wonder, what did I just tell them? We were being pushed back. They were merciless. Daniel was being slaughtered – mostly because they had never seen a Chinese person before. We needed to regroup, to recover our spirits and form a battle plan. Someplace chill and quiet.
So we visited a music class.
Which was truly wonderful. This was nothing like our music classes back home. We learned how to play the recorders – who knows why – and that is as far as we went in terms of general musicality. Here, in this cramped classroom, even the bright brazilian sunlight danced through the single tall broken window. Each and every one of the kids can play multiple instruments, the teacher explained to us. Then he said something to the kids, and they routinely decided between various drums, cymbals, and triangles. Others stood chest-out, ready to sing. Then, on the tune of the teacher’s piano, they played a well-known, exotic Brazilian song, influenced by a much older, African rhythm, we were told afterwards.
And before we knew what was happening, even Momar Seck was showcasing his disco moves from back in the day. The children communicated with touch now rather than words, taking our hands and showing us how they played their instruments. We played songs with them, and they even taught us how to dance Samba.
There is something about the school that inspires art. I can just imagine a young Nilton Santolin tinkering with age-old cameras in the dusty, sun-struck halls. But the philosophy of Pao Dos Pobres has a much deeper, religious undertone, that goes back all the way to 1895, when the school was founded – and you thought Ecolint was old.
Today, the school is led by a Catholic Priest, and the Christian education is evident if only you look a little closer. Plastered on the cafeteria walls are rules instructing all to say grace before each meal and to take only as much as you need. But the school goes further than just education and board. It’s stated aim is to help children, as old as 17 and as young as newborns, to escape potentially dangerous upbringings in the drug and violence-rife Brazilian suburbs.
The main projects of the institution are:
CATI – Integral Attention Center: To assist children and adolescents from 6 to 15, with the aim of integral protection, the right to childhood, and the effective exercise of citizenship alongside cultural, artistic, sporting, and social workshops.
CEP – Professional Education Center: To train citizens and professionals for the work in the adult world; from 16 years of age.
POD – Socio-Educational Opportunities and Rights Program: To help prevent violence and reduce the recurrence of the infraction act among the graduates of the CATI.
The institution has not escaped troubles, being forced to completely rethink its organizational structure and shift from boarding to non-boarding after new government rules in 2012. But its core ethos has remained remarkably intact for more than a century. In order to protect vulnerable children throughout the year, the school has no holidays, and thus requires significant commitment by staff.
“The foundation’s primordial objective is to help kids, that are mainly poor, ‘be firm like fathers and delicate like mothers.’ That’s our job, to lead the kids to having a better, more dignified life”, said geography teacher, Marcello Santos. Everyone, from young student volunteers from the city, to long-term teachers, to the men working tirelessly on renovating creaky buildings, put in an incredible effort to do their jobs.
And it works. Nilton Santolin is now engaged in projects that take him all over the world. His next dream: Europe, a dream which will be realized if he is able to attend the second stage of our Ecolint-MARGS collaboration next year.
Nilton is just one man, who graduated from one school, whose inspiring work boasts of countless success stories. One in four children worldwide live in danger zones. It is staggering that the children who greeted us with wide eyes and contagious laughter at the entrance gate of Pao Dos Pobres are merely a handful of millions of vulnerable children just like them.
And they are the lucky ones.
© Nilton Santolin 2018
If you are interested in learning more about our project in Brazil, Pao Dos Pobres, or Nilton Santolin, check out these links:
