Jacopo Crivelli Visconti. "What fascinates me in this world are the stories, both small and large, that are hidden in each piece."

Does the Albuquerque Foundation have any other activities besides the Linhó Museum?

No. The Foundation was created with the preservation and promotion of the collection in mind. And it has related activities, particularly the exhibition of contemporary ceramics. I hope to also begin a residency program in the second half of the year, or early next year, with researchers able to conduct research on the collection.

Is this intended for teachers, doctoral students…?

Yes, people who already research and are interested in the topics covered by export porcelain, which are numerous, both historically and in the more contemporary issues that are present in this collection and that serve as a starting point for selecting the artists we invite to the contemporary program. Theaster Gates is a perfect example in this regard, because through the practice of potter, as he has always defined himself, he brings up very contemporary issues, which reverberate, in a way, in the collection's exhibition.

And does Jacopo always do this from São Paulo?

I'm in São Paulo, but I'll be in Sintra on Saturday. I'm going back and forth, so to speak. I don't know if I'll actually move to Portugal. For now, there's an excellent team there, things are flowing smoothly, and the plan isn't to have a very intense schedule. It's intense, but not at a level that requires constant presence.

I understand from your resume that you're more involved in the field of contemporary art. However, you're leading the foundation globally, right?

Yes, I lead the foundation globally. But I think that, with my experience and the support we receive locally, we can manage the preservation of the collection quite well, which is our main concern. And I also won't be curating the collection's exhibitions. Hence the desire to bring a researcher to each exhibition who can bring a different perspective. For the first exhibition, we invited Becky MacGuire, an American researcher, and she selected approximately 15% of the collection. This is something that interests us: having different perspectives, coming to Sintra to study the collection and suggesting different interpretations.

You have a PhD in architecture. Were you involved in the project?

I arrived late. I joined the foundation when the architectural aspect was already fully defined. I oversaw the final phase of the construction; the design was already completed. But, honestly, I could hardly have contributed much, because I think the project is impeccable. The relationship between the contemporary and the historical, and the idea of creating a pavilion that you can easily access at the entrance and then the other, after crossing the garden, all work very well.

Knowing that only about 15% of the collection is on display, wouldn't it make sense to have a space that would allow more of the collection to be displayed?

A very large space has already been built. And, in addition to the exhibition space, we also needed storage space. And after the storage, there are the offices. This is typical in any cultural institution. When you look only at the exhibition space, you don't consider the other spaces that are necessary. Considering the total built area, I think the area dedicated to the collection is already relatively generous. And it's possible to create a more comprehensive exhibition. In this case, it was Becky's choice to highlight specific pieces. She opted for an exhibition with plenty of breathing room between pieces. But, according to our calculation, we could have 25-30% of the collection on display at the same time. This is something we consider relatively comfortable. If you can display a third of the collection, compared to the percentages we see in many museums, that's already significant.

Why didn't this collection stay in Brazil and come to Portugal?

There are several reasons for this. Dr. Renato is Brazilian, but he also has Portuguese nationality. He lived in Portugal, and the whole family has an emotional connection with the place, with Quinta de São João, as it was formerly called. This family connection existed. Furthermore, and perhaps this is the main reason, this is a collection that speaks deeply to the history of Portugal. There is a very significant set of early commissions, the oldest pieces commissioned by Portugal, which was the first country to begin this exchange with China. Furthermore, there is a general knowledge among the Portuguese population of the history of porcelain, the history of the relationship between European and Asian countries, which is very different from that in Brazil. I joined after the decision had already been made, but from every perspective, it seems like a very wise decision. It seems to me that this heritage speaks more directly to Portuguese history and culture, even from a critical standpoint, and from the discussions this can spark, than if we were to open this foundation in Brazil.

You mentioned the exhibition in the contemporary pavilion earlier. Being the first, it will set a standard for the future. How did you come up with the name Theaster Gates? Was it an obvious choice for you?

I think we can say it was obvious in the sense that he's an artist who synthesizes many of the issues I'd like the Albuquerque Foundation's contemporary programming to address. The history of export porcelain encompasses many issues that are very relevant today. Economic issues, first and foremost, geopolitical relations, even issues of the transformation of trade wars into wars of another order. I don't need to say anything else about how current this is. We're experiencing this with the tariff wars between the United States and China. Then there are issues of silencing the identity of the pieces' authors. A small portion of the pieces have the author's first and last name. In the overlapping of these economic, social, and political dynamics, people's identities were erased. From the beginning, I really wanted the contemporary programming to clearly address these issues so that they could reverberate, let's say, in our readings of the collection. With these premises, I find Theaster Gates a truly perfect artist. He always talks about himself as a potter, a ceramic artist—ceramic production is essential to his relationship with the contemporary art system. And since the early 2000s, he's traveled to Japan every year to study with local masters and produce ceramics there. But, at the same time, he's an artist who always foregrounds social, racial, and economic issues. His entire struggle against the gentrification of Chicago neighborhoods from a racial perspective, for example, is central to how he's understood and interpreted in contemporary art. Based on these premises, I wanted to work with him and called him. And he immediately understood the relevance, so to speak, of holding an exhibition to inaugurate this contemporary program. And he immediately proposed the main work, which is in the pavilion, which is that ceramic tile floor from Tokoname. I think at that moment, neither he nor I realized how perfect that work is, because it's produced by a successful, objectively Western artist—as disruptive as he is in sociopolitical and racial logic, he's a successful Western artist who goes to the East, in this case to Japan, and works with local labor, which is mentioned in the exhibition's technical sheet, but which objectively disappears, and he's aware of this. He produces a work in Japan that travels to Portugal via exactly the same sea route as 99% of the pieces in the collection. And he went through the same difficulties [setbacks] that existed back then, because he was stuck in ports, stuck in customs… All the problems that many pieces in the collection went through, the pieces produced by Theaster in Japan went through until they arrived in Portugal and were shown in a place that is an elite place—something that, objectively, we want to break. And Theaster himself gave me a few visits, during which he said something fascinating: that he was fascinated by porcelain from the beginning. In English, he spoke of the 'search for whiteness' that porcelain has always represented. Porcelain, in its early days, became the so-called 'white gold' because, theoretically, it had this 'purity' and the ability to become as white as no other ceramic material. When Theaster, based on his racial consciousness, speaks of this 'search for whiteness,' it's clear that all these issues I'm addressing are very present, and I believe these issues will inform contemporary programming to some extent, so that, almost by osmosis, they enter the public's readings of the permanent collection. In this sense, I think the architecture works well because it's very natural. You first pass through the collection, do a more historical, more academic reading of the collection. Then you go down to the contemporary exhibition, and suddenly all these questions are raised, and when you go back up, you suddenly re-enter the collection, or pass by it, and it continues to reverberate in your mind.

He spoke of the fascination with porcelain. I don't know if engineer Renato also infected him with this fascination for this almost magical material.

Very much so. He's an incredible person, truly incredible. First, someone his age—he's 97 now—with the lucidity, passion, and profound knowledge he has of the collection. I'm no expert in this area, but I'm studying and have had the opportunity to spend time with Becky and other researchers who have already worked with the collection, listening to stories, and I see that Dr. Renato's knowledge is extraordinary. But beyond his academic knowledge, he has a very personal and lively relationship with each of the pieces. I was fortunate enough to be there the day he first arrived at the foundation after the pieces arrived, because the pieces were shipped from Brazil a long time ago, and the work took much longer than expected, and the works were stored in customs warehouses. He hadn't been able to see the "girls," as he calls them, for a long time. And then his reunion with the pieces was emotional. It's unbelievable that someone his age, with decades of experience, can still be so passionate and have such a vivid memory of his relationship with each piece. Because in many cases, he knew the pieces long before he could actually buy them; he sought them out. He would see them in other people's collections, knowing that this was the missing piece to make a more complete narrative about the collection. And then he would study them, seeing where similar pieces existed, how many existed, which museums had them, and whose hands they had passed through over the centuries. He's able to tell stories like this for the vast majority of pieces. For that alone, I would have already been diagnosed with porcelain malaise. But beyond that, what fascinates me about this world, besides the aesthetic quality and incredible technique, are the stories—both small and large—that are hidden within each piece. And the more the collection becomes known, the more knowledgeable people come to visit, and I see that everyone with knowledge in this area is very communicative. It's as if people enjoy gathering around these pieces and sharing the stories they know. I've had a number of very inspiring visitors.

Jacopo is Italian, but from his accent, I assume he's lived in Brazil for quite some time. What's his background?

I'm Italian. I was born in Naples, grew up in Naples, graduated, and then traveled around Europe. I lived in Spain and Germany for a few years, and then married a Brazilian. I came to Brazil in 2001, a long time ago. I worked for a while at the São Paulo Biennial. Then I began a career as an independent curator, which is what I've been doing all these years until I started at the Albuquerque Foundation. And I still do some independent curating in Brazil and even in Italy.

And how do you get to the Albuquerque Foundation?

I was approached by Mariana Teixeira de Carvalho, Dr. Renato's granddaughter and the Foundation's CEO. We've known each other for a long time, as she also comes from the contemporary arts. She works both in Brazil and abroad, in galleries and with collections. We knew each other, but we became closer when I curated the São Paulo Biennial and she was on its board. So, we became closer during that time. She kept telling me about the project, and I was fascinated. At first, we thought I could just take on the contemporary programming, but then we ended up deciding that I would take on the directorship, even without living in Portugal, at least initially.