Phew!

To follow up on the Literatura do Cordel theme, about a month ago, I bought a canvas tote bag with a reproduction of a woodcut of two couples dancing Forró, a popular dance Northeastern Brazilian dance. What drew me towards the bag was not only the picture, but also the size [perfect for a work-sized binder] and the fact that it closed with a zipper. Although similar canvas bags are for sale all over Recife, the print combined with the particular dimensions of this one made it quite the catch. Little did I know that due to the popularity of woodcuts here in Recife, I would get many many comments on the bag.

One thing about the Northeast is that family names have a level of importance that I have not experienced elsewhere. Each state in the Northeast [there are nine altogether] has a handful of Names That Mean Something, be they either traditional families from the past, or families that have Done Well more recently. In the world of woodcuts, it is the Borges Family that rules. José Francisco Borges is one of the country's most famous woodcut artists having had his works exhibited in North America and Europe and, along with his sons, his brother Amaro Francisco, and Amaro's son Severino, the Borges family is the name in the field. These days, it is Severino who seems to be Recife's favourite son. The bag however, was signed by an artist called Givanildo.

Inevitably, when people -- from everyday citizens to other salespeople -- examine my tote bag, they check to see who the artist is. When they see that it is not Severino, they squint and grimace and try to make out the name of the actual artist, whom of course, they have never heard of. This always makes me feel a little bit guilty, the inference being that I had in fact purchased a product from an impostor who wasn't one of the real names.

This past Saturday afternoon at the Casa da Cultura, where I had gone to do a bit of craft shopping, I happened upon a little store selling all sorts of woodcut products. It turned out that the store was that of Severino Borges himself and that the woman working there was his wife, Ana Maria. Ana Maria admired my bag and I had to guiltily admit that it was not one of her husband's prints. Laughing, she looked at the bag and said "Oh, this is one of Givanildo's prints. That's okay, he is my husband's cousin.". Hurray! All was well in the world again. And as Ana Maria added "It's all the same family."

Needless to say, I feel much better about my bag and its provenance. I also ended up buying a set of two of Severino's prints transfered to tiles, so there is no reason for any lingering feelings of doubt. In any case, I ended up staying quite a while in the store and had a lot of fun listening to Ana Maria talk about her husband and the craft.

In Brazil, only a portion of the act of buying something is about the purchase itself and conversation and social interaction are equally, if in fact not more important, than the commercial transaction. It is not uncommon to be offered a coffee or tea or glass of water when shopping, and if you really get along with the salesperson, a two-cheeked kiss on the way out of the store would turn no heads. This was definitely one of the cases where I felt that the social interaction was at least as valuable as the purchases. Now I just need to find the perfect spot in my place to hang my new, and legitimate, prints!