Rafael Hanuman

It was a city with rich bars, poor bars, millionaire bars, and a broad cultural life.

About 10 years earlier, I used to frequent Belo Horizonte for the Theater Festival.

There were all kinds of plays, theater styles, and stages to see.

During the time of Virada Cultural, I was, as the saying goes, "turned".

I had spent the night drinking. "Turned" means I had been drinking all night.

And while walking through BH, I very casually stumbled upon Mondrian.

Mondrian is the painter I like the most. My idol in painting.

So dazed was I, that I entered the place without knowing what it was about.

I started walking through the rooms, seeing the paintings, liking the paintings.

Mondrian has several phases. Different phases of his process.

Anyone who only knows the square paintings only knows the obvious.

Suddenly, I looked at one painting and thought: I like this.

I looked at another, and I liked that one too. It inspired me.

Until the inevitable moment came when I recognized a painting.

But I thought, indignantly, that the artist had plagiarized Mondrian.

And I wanted to know that painter's name at all costs.

I focused on the small letters and read: MONDRIAN.

I stepped back. I saw the year. I calculated the age.

I looked at the painting again. I tried to recognize the brushstrokes.

In fact, I looked at all the paintings again, but with a new focus.

Perhaps if I had planned the trip to see the exhibition, it wouldn't have worked.