São Paulo pasado y presente: álbumes comparativos y la fotografía de arquitectura en Brasil

Danielle Stewart


Una característica principal de la fotografía en São Paulo es el predominio de álbumes comparativos que ilustran el progreso moderno con la yuxtaposición de imágenes contemporáneas y pasadas. Dentro de estos álbumes, las vistas arquitectónicas pareadas se convirtieron en el medio principal para demostrar la transformación de São Paulo en una ciudad moderna, especialmente cuando la ciudad empezó a hacerse cada vez más vertical, a mediados del siglo XX. Este artículo emplea el análisis iconográfico de fotografías en álbumes comparativos y revistas para mostrar cómo las narrativas fotográficas de progreso infraestructural ayudaron a impulsar las tendencias arquitectónicas y a cambiar la opinión pública sobre la estética y la función de la ciudad; con ello se demuestra que la arquitectura y la fotografía operaban como prácticas simbióticas en las zonas urbanas de Brasil a mediados de siglo.

Palabras clave: fotografía, álbumes fotográficos, álbumes comparativos, arquitectura, rascacielos, urbanismo, São Paulo, Brasil, modernización

DOI: http://dx.doi.org/10.22201/fa.14058901p.2019.41.70675

São Paulo Past and Present: Comparative Albums and Architectural Photography in Brazil

Danielle Stewart


A principle feature of São Paulo photography is the predominance of comparative albums that illustrate modern progress by juxtaposing contemporary and past imagery. Within these comparative albums, paired architectural vistas became a primary means of demonstrating São Paulo’s transformation into a modern city, especially as the city became increasingly “verticalized” in the mid-twentieth century. This paper employs the iconographic analysis of photographs in comparative albums and magazine spreads to show how photographic narratives of infrastructural progress helped to propel architectural trends and shift public opinion about the aesthetics and function of the city. In doing so, I demonstrate how architecture and photography operated as symbiotic practices in midcentury urban Brazil.

Keywords: photography, photo albums, comparative albums, architecture, skyscraper, urbanism, São Paulo, Brazil, modernization

EditorialCristina López Uribe
I N V E S T I G A C I Ó N 
The Role of Archives in the Graphic Restitution of Monuments: The Case of the Roman Bridge over the Ofanto River near Canosa di Puglia, ItalyGermano Germanò
Notes from an Archiving Project: Building the Private Archive of an Architect in TurkeySelda Bancı
El archivo como obra total. Amancio Williams y la construcción de su memoriaLuis Müller
¿Hacia una dispersión de archivos arquitectónicos?Sergio M. Figuereido
Cuidar en el archivo de arquitectura: una subversión matrísticaLuz Marie Rodríguez López
El legado de George y Geraldine Andrews para México en los Alexander Architectural Archives de AustinLaura Gilabert Sansalvador
Mónica Cejudo Collera
El archivo y la biblioteca: una provocación para otra historia de la arquitectura del siglo XIXM. Fernanda Barrera Rubio Hernández
Archival Impression: (Re)Collecting Gordon Matta-ClarkMarcelo López-Dinardi
E N S A Y O 
Margot's Dilemma: Exit Through the Back DoorTania Tovar Torres
El archivo jovenGuadalupe E. Luna Rodríguez
Patrimonio documental: memoria y futuro del Archivo de Arquitectos MexicanosLourdes Cruz González Franco
Elisa Drago Quaglia
María Eugenia Hernández Sánchez
Le Centre d’archives d’architecture du XXe siècle de la Cité de l’architecture et du patrimoine. Entrevista a David Peyceré Director del Centre d’archives d’architecture du XXe siècleAndrés Ávila Gómez
R E S E Ñ A S 
En torno a la exposición L'art du chantier. Construire et démolir du XVIe au XXIe siècleAndrés Ávila Gómez
Reseña de la exposición: Unterm RadarMichael Andrés Forrero Parra
Reseñas de librosCamilo Alejandro Moreno Iregui
Pamela Caparroso Gutiérrez
Lilián Martínez Villazón Robledo

In an image-saturated world, what role does photography play in shaping architectural design and development? According to the historian Peter Blundell Jones, architecture since the modern period can be considered “photo-dependent,” because its ideal viewing conditions are not in situ, but isolated in photographs: framed, cropped and collaged to enhance symbolic and aesthetic value. 4103N01 In this essay, I argue that Jones’s architectural “photodependency” is only half of a co-dependent relationship between photography and architecture that has developed since the former’s nascent years. Many of the first photographs taken by early experimenters with the medium featured architectural content, a pragmatic response to photography’s extended exposure times. Before it was considered an art form, photography’s utilitarian role in documenting historic structures afforded it a prominent place within the cultural dialogue. Even after exposure times decreased sufficiently to widen photography’s practical applications around the turn of the twentieth century, architectural photography remained a key genre well into the modern period.

The infrastructural development of twentieth century São Paulo, Brazil offers a prime example of photography’s power to impact urban spaces and architectural style. At the beginning of the century, São Paulo was emphatically flat—and Paulistanos liked it that way. Brazil’s first skyscraper, the Neo-Renaissance Martinelli building, was built between 1929 and 1934. At 30 stories high, the building was not only the tallest in Brazil, but in all of South America. However, the Martinelli was also an elaborate exception that proved the rule of the city’s horizontality: the year of its completion was the first year that buildings of two stories or more made up at least 50% of all new construction. 4103N02 For almost four hundred years, since its founding in 1554, São Paulo had been a sleepy village set in a swampy floodplain. Its emergence in the modern period as a global megacity was determined in part by technological innovations—like elevators and concrete construction—that allowed for its dramatic “verticalization” as skyscrapers took root in the city center, but also by the maturation of a photographic narrative that began almost a century prior.

This article attempts to demonstrate the effect of circulated photographic images on São Paulo’s urban development through an examination of a particularly popular genre in the city: the comparative album. This format set historical views of the city alongside contemporary scenes taken from the same or similar vantage points in order to cultivate comparisons that illustrated how the city’s urban development manifested architecturally. Beginning in the late nineteenth century and culminating in the lead-up to the four hundredth anniversary of the city’s founding in 1954, comparative albums were an immensely popular form whose analysis in the present not only offers a visual voyage through São Paulo’s changing landscape, but also deconstructs how the narrative of architectural progress became a pillar of Paulistano identity. The central premise of comparative albums—documenting urban change over time—illustrated the city’s modernization and helped to concretize the idea of “progress” as one of its defining characteristics. By examining individual spreads within comparative photo albums and essays published over the course of seventy years, I will demonstrate how infrastructural and architectural development became the defining feature of Paulistano visual culture, and how photography helped to publicize and promote local construction.

Militão Augusto de Azevedo, “Rua do Rosario, 1862” and “Rua da Imperatriz, 1887” from Álbum comparativo da cidade de São Paulo, 1862-1887, Biblioteca Mário de Andrade

Architectural Photo Narratives in the Late Nineteenth Century

São Paulo has a rich photographic legacy dating back to the mid-1800s. Early documentary photographers set the geographical axis and dialectical tenor for twentieth century representations of São Paulo. 4103N03 Many of these photographers—including Militão Augusto de Azevedo (1837-1905), the most well-known of São Paulo’s documentarians—were newcomers to the city. Azevedo was a Carioca 4103N04 by birth who began taking pictures of São Paulo in 1862, when he arrived in the then still-colonial city from the much more cosmopolitan Rio de Janeiro. In spite of nineteenth century São Paulo’s backwater provinciality, Azevedo felt compelled to document the city’s growth over the course of more than twenty years. In 1887, he published a portion of his oeuvre as Álbum comparativo da cidade de São Paulo, 1862-1887 (Comparative Album of the City of São Paulo), a tome emphasizing portions of the cityscape that were culturally homogenous and architecturally modernizing.

Azevedo arrived in São Paulo just as the city was awakening to its potential as a regionally, nationally and (eventually) internationally important hub. But in 1862, when he first began to photograph the sleepy town, it was just beginning to stir from its long period of dormancy. 4103N05 Coffee plantations had only taken root in the state in the previous decade, and not in the near vicinity of the state capital. 4103N06 A railroad linking the city of São Paulo and the port of Santos had been proposed, but it would not be completed for another five years. In retrospect, the completion of the São Paulo Railway in 1867 (operated and financed by the British, hence the English name) is easily identified as the linchpin of the city’s prosperity and, perhaps, the raison d’être for the first comparative photo albums. 4103N07 The railroad brought in investments that rapidly altered the city’s fabric and photographers struggling to display the fantastical nature of these changes turned to comparative imagery. 4103N08 By 1887, when Azevedo published his album, coffee capital was already transforming São Paulo from an agricultural economy to an industrial one through the development of new textile mills and, soon thereafter, hydroelectric plants. 4103N09

São Paulo’s lack of natural landmarks and its sudden proliferation of man-made ones compelled Militão Augusto de Azevedo to organize his images into a comparative format that would become standard for photographic albums of São Paulo. 4103N10 For his Álbum comparativo..., Azevedo collected thirty of his earliest photographs, dating back to 1862, and paired them with recent photographs of the same spaces. 4103N11 Today the Álbum enjoys a certain prestige as the first comparative photo album of São Paulo, a genre that would become enormously important in the first half of the twentieth century, especially in the years preceding the quadricentennial. 4103N12 Azevedo’s luxurious leatherbound and gold-embossed album included sixty landscape-oriented albumen prints individually tipped-in to each 5.5 x 8.5 inch page: a photograph from 1862 on the left and a photograph from 1887 on the right.

One emblematic pairing, “Rua do Rosario, 1862” and “Rua da Imperatriz, 1887,” demonstrates the extent to which São Paulo’s identity was tied to ideas of architectural evolution and modernization. So much changed in the twenty-five years between the first and second pictures that even the name of the street is different. To clarify for viewers that the photographs were, in fact, taken at the same location, Azevedo’s caption parenthetically adds that Imperatriz is the “former Rosario,” the street “by the side of the church.” Azevedo includes little captioning in his tome (there is no written preface or conclusion to the volume), so the photographer’s overall vision of the city can only be discerned through careful visual analysis of his inclusions and comparisons.

In the picture of Rua do Rosario from 1862, the street is flanked with two-story, iron-balconied buildings that are remarkably well-appointed compared to the unadorned shacks pictured elsewhere in the album. A gas streetlamp in the foreground signals the city’s attention to infrastructure development, as does the well-manicured, although unpaved, road. The architectural style is a fashionably ornate colonial, with whitewashed façades, overhanging terracotta roofs, arched colonnades at street level and church belfries. A large but indecipherable sign above one of the doors in the foreground suggests that Rua do Rosario is primarily a commercial street, an idea corroborated by the large shop windows that adorn almost every building. Although the photograph is significantly faded, it is possible to discern a few blurry figures parading down the avenue. 4103N13 São Paulo of 1862 is represented as attractive and clean, but ultimately provincial.

In the photograph from 1887, the streetscape has changed dramatically. Storefronts on the right-hand side of the street are now several stories taller. A proliferation of shop signs and striped awnings stretch out over the sidewalk, indicating increased foot traffic and commerce. Thus, one primary change from 1862 to 1887 seems to have been an uptick in mercantile activity. Many more pedestrians now circulate the sidewalks and there are ghostly traces of horse-drawn carts in the streets. However, another important change is the shift from a colonial architectural style towards neoclassicism, as evidenced by the rising rooflines and the use of stone, as well as the cornices and pediments beginning to appear alongside wrought iron and plate glass. In twenty-five years, the street has modernized and come alive. The once-sleepy municipality has awakened to its future as a commercialindustrial epicenter, an ambition embodied by its upward-reaching, multistory architecture. 4103N14 Through comparisons like this one, Azevedo’s images helped to consolidate the idea that São Paulo’s civic identity was fundamentally tied to architectural renovation and modernization, an interpretation of the cityscape that would become especially powerful in the twentieth century as urban renovation gave birth to verticalization, by which I mean both the upward rise of the municipal horizon and the popular association of urban space with multistoried architecture. Comparative albums, beginning with Azevedo’s, helped to brand São Paulo as the center of Brazilian infrastructural development, a city iconographically identifiable by the imagery of new construction.

Photographer unknown, “Rua Libero Badaró, 1918” and “Rua Libero Badaró, 1919” from Álbum Comparativo da Cidade de São Paulo (1887-1919) [organized by authorization of Washington Luiz Pereira de Souza], Biblioteca Mário de Andrade—Seção de Obras Raras e Especiais


Comparative Albums and Infrastructural Progress

Photography’s ability to document and publicize urban change provided a useful tool not only for the construction of civic identity, but also for the expression of political power. Following the publication of Azevedo’s Álbum comparativo…, two early twentieth century mayoral administrations used Azevedo’s photographs to mount their own “comparative albums”: those of Raimundo da Siva Duprat, who served as mayor from 1911 to 1914, and Washington Luís Pereira de Sousa, who assumed the position from 1914 to 1919. 4103N15 While both albums inherited their titles and much of their imagery from Azevedo, they did not continue his paired before-and-after format. Instead, these later comparative albums incorporated selected early views of the city into an album of predominantly contemporary views that served as propaganda for the current municipal government. Because these later albums relied on Azevedo’s nineteenth century photographs to demonstrate progress, the photographer’s itinerary through the city had an immense influence on the trajectory of later illustrated albums.

The Duprat and Luís albums, which were leatherbound, privately financed and printed in small runs, were probably limited to a very small circulation. However, they illustrated the urbanizing power of the city government to all that had the opportunity to come into contact with them. One of the albums produced by the Washington Luís administration in 1919 includes a photograph documenting roadworks on Libero Badaró street in the heart of São Paulo. Located directly across from the then newly-built Teatro Municipal (completed in 1911), Libero Badaró was both a culturally and commercially significant thoroughfare, and public works were a significant part of Luís’s political strategy. 4103N16 The city of São Paulo, which in 1920 would exceed half a million residents (an increase of about 2500% over the course of fifty years), was bursting at the seams and in desperate need of infrastructure improvements to ease circulation around the city center. Public projects like roadworks also helped consolidate Luís’s political power and affirmed the city of São Paulo’s autonomy from the state government: by shoring up local support through popular public works, Luís became less reliant on favors from state-level politicians. 4103N17

The anonymous photographer (or photographers) who supplied the images for Luís’s commemorative album meticulously documented the mayor’s construction of new roadways and public plazas with a straightforward matter-of-factness that belies the album’s propagandistic intent. Even when the landscape seems little-changed by the intervening years, São Paulo is always rendered more hospitable and habitable through the photograph’s angle and processing. The paired photographs of Libero Badaró street, however, show the road’s remarkable transformation—in only a year’s time—under the direction of the Luís administration. In the first, a deep trench carved into São Paulo’s rich red clay soil stretches from the foreground into the middle ground, contrasting sharply with the rising silhouettes of the multistory structures in the background. The tallest of these, in the left-center of the image, gleams white below its mansardesque roof, evidencing Brazilian interest in French architecture and urban design. 4103N18 The following image in the album demonstrates the reason for Libero Badaró’s upheaval: the 1919 photograph shows the street relaid with trolley tracks down the center. For Paulistanos, trolleys were an important marker of their emergent cosmopolitanism as well as being a form of public transit. 4103N19 Alongside architectural development, infrastructure projects—like the implementation of trolley systems—were a marker of urban progress and an important subject of early photographic documentation. 4103N20

“São Paulo 1951” from “São Paulo de ontem, São Paulo de hoje,” Paulistania 12, 38 (January-February 1951), 42. Biblioteca FAU-USP

Shaping Popular Opinion through Urban Media

Though sponsored by politically-important patrons and impressively bound, photographs in restricted circulation—like those that made up the Duprat and Luís albums—had limited potential to affect the developing urban landscape. Likewise, although São Paulo’s early, state-appointed (i.e. not elected) mayors had considerable leverage in determining municipal projects and directing city funding, in order for São Paulo to transform from a horizontal city into a vertical city, there needed to be a radical change in the way that Paulistanos as a group thought about the shape and function of their city. As the century advanced, civic “progress” was increasingly advertised in the popular press as grounded both in stylistic modernism and architectural verticalization.

Engineer-turned-mayor Francisco Prestes Maia (1938-1945) understood the importance of widely propagandizing the city’s vertical development. In a speech made before the Sociedade Amigos da Cidade (Society of Friends of the City) in 1936, Prestes Maia insisted, “All that is necessary for popular acceptance [of skyscrapers] is a little propaganda.” 4103N21 Prestes Maia and his colleagues viewed architectural modernization not merely as an engineering project, but as a political platform necessitating a massive paradigm shift. Mass media photography was Prestes Maia’s primary means of directing Paulistano’s ideas about urban spaces towards verticalization. Although advertising had not yet developed as an industry in the 1930s, 4103N22 through a mix of precedents set by political propaganda and intuition, Paulistano photographers successfully marketed their city to both domestic and foreign audiences, often through the medium of the comparative album. Photography in general, and comparative albums in particular, allowed Paulistanos to reimagine the cityscape by visually repeating specific, skyscraper-dense sections of skyline until the idea of a vertical city had been sufficiently normalized.

Only illustrated magazines, then in their golden age, could provide the critical mass of imagery necessary to produce this paradigm shift. São Paulo politicians thus shifted their focus away from producing leatherbound luxury albums and looked towards the penny press. Cheaply and rapidly printed, these publicly and privately-funded publications promoted São Paulo’s urbanist projects. The São Paulo State Department of Press and Propaganda, a division of the dictator Getúlio Vargas’s federal engine of media censorship, published the free monthly magazine Boletim São Paulo de ontem, de hoje, e de amanhã (Bulletin of São Paulo Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow) from 1941 until at least 1945. Although the magazine lacked images, its rhetoric capitalized on the comparative approach to the Paulistano landscape prevalent in other, densely illustrated periodicals.

For example, the magazine Paulistania, sponsored by the conservative social group Clube Piratininga, featured a monthly column entitled “São Paulo de ontem, São Paulo de hoje” (São Paulo Yesterday, São Paulo Today). In January 1951, Paulistania ran a special, multi-page portfolio of “São Paulo de ontem, São Paulo de hoje” photographs. Beginning with etchings of the city’s sixteenth century walls and moving through illustrations of its first churches, the album referenced images created by Azevedo and even reproduced a few of his photographs. The last spread announced the future city— “São Paulo 1951”—in bold letters and included photographs suggesting what the upcoming year might look like. The unattributed Paulistania photographs emphasized architecture’s role in illustrating the passage of time in the Paulista capital. 4103N23 At the top of the layout, a photograph of high-rise apartment buildings along Avenida Ipiranga emphasizes the city’s vertiginous ascent. On the far right of the image, one of the buildings is cropped so that neither its top nor base are visible within the picture frame: all that is left is a thin slice of curtain wall punctuated by balconies. These diminutive parapets serve as viewing points to watch the city as it rises above the flowing thoroughfare. With neither its foundation nor crown visible, this building stretches off into infinity, suggesting to the viewer the city’s limitless potential. The accompanying caption reinforces the idea of perpetual upward growth by relating how the “terraced houses and small two-story buildings” of the previous century have transformed into “monumental constructions” marked by the “bold lines of modern architecture.” 4103N24

Below the photograph of Avenida Ipiranga, the editors inserted an even larger wide-angle view of the city’s central core. Again, the photograph looks down Avenida Ipiranga, but this time from a much higher, aerial view. As a result, the viewer feels disoriented by the glut of skyscrapers jammed into the photographic frame. A single dark patch of organic forms, the tree canopy above the Praça da Republica, helps to orient the viewer, while another landmark, the Martinelli building (now small and unimpressive amidst its modern neighbors), materializes in the top left corner of the image. The picture emphasizes the dramatic scope of São Paulo’s transformation by filling the frame with the most verticalized portion of the urban landscape, thus suggesting—like the skyscraper in the previous picture—that such growth goes on indefinitely. Ironically, both of the pictures in this spread were photographed from approximately the same location, on Avenida Ipiranga, albeit from dramatically different angles. By focusing on the modern architecture in only one area of the city, these photographs demonstrate that such development was the exception, rather than the rule. While São Paulo’s midcentury skyscraper construction was impressive, it was also localized within a limited part of the city’s downtown and did not extend out to the working class residential bairros. Nevertheless, photo essays like this one fulfilled Prestes Maia’s mandate for skyscraper propaganda and helped train Paulistanos to accept, and even celebrate, the upward growth of their city, while making the verticalization process appear ubiquitous and natural.

José Medina, “Avenida São João” from São Paulo: o que foi o que é (São Paulo: Donato, 1954). Biblioteca Brasiliana Guita e José Mindlin – PRCEU/USP


São Paulo Today, São Paulo Tomorrow

As the four hundredth anniversary of the city’s founding approached, the Paulistano press feted the year’s arrival with a spate of photo books that payed tribute to São Paulo’s founding fathers and its recent industry-fueled growth. The lead-up to the quadricentennial inspired the publication of at least six photo books, one of which ran into multiple editions. 4103N25 Two of these volumes cultivated a comparative approach that focused on architecture as the primary marker of civic progress: José Medina’s 4103N26 São Paulo: O que foi, o que é (São Paulo: What It Was and What It Is) and São Paulo antigo, São Paulo moderno (Old São Paulo, Modern São Paulo), both compiled by the publishing house Editôra Melhoramento. These books recycled photographs from the comparative albums already discussed in this essay to continue the narrative of progress that had undergirded photographic depictions of Paulistano architecture since the nineteenth century.

Selecting historically and commercially significant locations within the urban core, Medina’s album usually featured three images per page. In a now-familiar pattern, these three images demonstrated the evolution of the cityscape from premodern to fully modern, a transformation embodied by the city’s verticalization. Thus, while the first picture (from 1905) shows a row of single and two-story buildings mostly obscured by antique trolleys, the second (from 1933) centers on the Martinelli building, which bursts through the top of the optical frame. By 1954, just over twenty years later, the once-mighty Martinelli had already fallen into the shadows of the Altino Arantes Building (often referred to as the Banespa tower), which is seen in the back of the third photograph. The Banespa tower held the title of tallest skyscraper not only in São Paulo, but in all of South America until the end of the decade, when it was superseded by another Paulistano colossus. The upward thrust of these buildings is echoed in the position of the camera relative to the horizon as well: while the first picture is taken from street level, subsequent images float above the roil of the crowds, levitating over the heads of the masses, ascending into the sky along with the buildings they document.

With its depictions of gleaming white skyscrapers, Medina’s album represents the culmination of a Paulistano narrative that took root almost a century prior in the photographic record of Militão de Azevedo. It also demonstrates glaring imbalances in representation, since most of the photographs published in the book were taken in a small downtown radius, omitting the unmodernized, un-verticalized São Paulo bairros (residential neighborhoods). While these bairros housed the majority of Paulistanos—especially those in the working class—they were not deemed appropriate content for comparative albums meant to illustrate a narrative of forward progress. The comparative albums, from Azevedo to Medina, privileged a narrative of aesthetic and technological, rather than social, development that was embodied in representations of road and skyscraper construction. Thus photography, though the production of comparative albums, helped to propel São Paulo’s architectural and infrastructural boom in the first half of the twentieth century, making photography and architecture symbiotic practices. The quadricentennial, presided over by the Banespa tower and other modernist architectural projects related to the city’s anniversary festivities, passed in a blur of street celebrations, commemorative masses and artistic exhibitions, leaving behind an uneasy lull in both construction and photographic publications. The conjoined fates of midcentury Paulistano architecture and photography demonstrate the symbiotic relationship of the two fields and underscore urban development’s reliance on visual documentation for broad public legibility. Due to its ubiquity and malleability, photography was employed to propel São Paulo’s architectural boom and relentlessly advertise the city’s cosmopolitan transformation. Likewise, comparative architectural imagery was the primary content of many mass media publications, especially the popular genre of comparative albums. Together, these books and the physical landscapes they depicted demonstrate how a city’s reputation and form can be dramatically altered via just “a little propaganda.”


Angelo, Augusto de. “A longa jornada da institucionalização.” In Renato Castelo Branco, Rodolfo Lima Martensen and Fernando Reis, eds. História da propaganda no Brasil. São Paulo: Queiroz, 1990.

Araujo, Íris Morais. “Versões do ‘progresso’: A modernização como tema e problems do fotógrafo Militão Augusto de Azevedo.” Anais do Museu Paulista 18-2 (JulyDecember 2010): 147-201. DOI: https://doi.10.1590/S0101-47142010000200005.

Azevedo, André Nunes de. A grande reforma urbana do Rio de Janeiro: Pereira Pasos, Rodrigues Alves e as ideias de civilização e progresso. Rio de Janeiro: PUC-Rio, 2017.

Azevedo, Militão Augusto de. Álbum comparativo da cidade de São Paulo (1862-1887). São Paulo, 1887.

Dean, Warren. The Industrialization of São Paulo, 1880-1945. Austin: Institute of Latin American Studies by the University of Texas Press, 1969.

Gygas, Thèo. Eis São Paulo: uma obra realizada e editada no ano de 1954. São Paulo: Melhoramento, 1954.

Isto é São Paulo! São Paulo: Melhoramento, 1954.

Jones, Peter Blundell. “The Photo-dependent, the Photogenic and the Unphotographable: How our Understanding of the Modern Movement has been Conditioned by Photography.” In Andrew Higgott and Timothy Wray, eds. Camera Constructs: Photography, Architecture, and the Modern City. London: Farnham Ashgate, 2012.

Karfeld, Kurt Peter. São Paulo: Álbum com fotografias em côres. São Paulo: Editôra Melhoramento, 1954.

Lima, Solange Ferraz de and Vânia Carneiro de Carvalho. Fotografia e cidade: da razão urbana à lógica de consumo: álbuns de São Paulo, 1887-1954. São Paulo and Campinas: Mercado de Letras, Fundação de Amparo à Pesquisa do Estado de São Paulo, 1997.

Luís Pereira de Sousa, Washington. Álbum comparativo da cidade de São Paulo. São Paulo, 1916.

Medina, José. São Paulo: O que foi, o que é. São Paulo: Donato, 1954.

Pereira, Robson Mendoça. “O Prefeito do progresso: modernização da cidade de São Paulo na administração de Washington Luís (1914-1919).” Doctoral thesis. São Paulo: Universidade Estadual Paulista, 2005.

Prestes Maia, Francisco. O zoneamento urbano. São Paulo: Edicões da Sociedade “Amigos da Cidade,” 1936.

São Paulo antigo, São Paulo moderno. São Paulo: Editôra Melhoramento, 1953.

Sarmento, Armando Moraes. “As agências estrangeiras trouxeram modernidade, as nacionais aprenderam depressa.” In Renato Castelo Branco, Rodolfo Lima Martensen and Fernando Reis, eds. História da propaganda no Brasil. São Paulo: T. A. Queiroz, 1990.

Scheier, Peter. São Paulo, Fastest Growing City in the World. São Paulo: Livraria Kosmos, 1954.

Sevcenko, Nicolau. “De mameluca, mulata e gótica a moderna, cosmopolita e caótica: as metamorfoses de Piratininga.” Antonio Fernando de Franceschi, ed. São Paulo: 450 anos. São Paulo: Instituto Moreira Salles, 2004.

Somekh, Nadia. A cidade vertical e o urbanismo modernizador. São Paulo: Mackenzie, 2014.

Wolfe, Joel. Working Women, Working Men: São Paulo and the Rise of Brazil’s Industrial Working Class, 1900-1955. Durham: Duke University Press, 1993.

Danielle Stewart
PhD in Art History

2019-2020 Princeton-Mellon / Princeton Institute for International & Regional Studies Brazil Lab Fellow

dhurd@gradcenter.cuny.edu / daniellejeanne@gmail.com

acerca de  |  inicio  |  archivo  |  convocatoria

Bitácora Arquitectura Número 43, julio - noviembre 2019 es una publicación cuatrimestral, editada por la Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, Ciudad Universitaria, Delegación Coyoacán, C.P. 04510, Ciudad de México,
a través de la Coordinación editorial de la Facultad de Arquitectura, Circuito Escolar s/n, Ciudad Universitaria, Delegación Coyoacán, Ciudad de México, C.P. 04510, teléfono: 56 22 03 18.

El contenido de los artículos es totalmente responsabilidad de sus autores y no refleja necesariamente el punto de vista del Comité editorial o de la Facultad de Arquitectura de la UNAM. Se autoriza la reproducción de los artículos
(no así de las imágenes) con la condición de que se cite la fuente y se respeten los derechos de autor. Para suscripción y distribución de ejemplares impresos: bitacoraunam@gmail.com / bitacora.arquitectura@unam.mx

Hemos puesto todo nuestro empeño en contactar a aquellas personas que poseen los derechos de autor de las imágenes publicadas en la revista. En algunos casos no nos ha sido posible, y por esta razón sugerimos a los propietarios
de tales derechos que se pongan en contacto con la redacción de esta revista.

Fecha de la última modificación: 21 de Septiembre de 2020.

Bitácora Arquitectura No. 43, July - November 2019 publishes three times a year. Edited by the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México. Ciudad Universitaria, Delegación Coyoacán, C.P. 04510, Mexico City. Publications Department of the School of Architecture (Facultad de Arquitectura), Circuito Interior s/n, Ciudad Universitaria, Delegación Coyoacán, C.P. 04510, Mexico City, +52(55) 56220318.

The content of the articles is entirely the responsibility of its authors and does not necessarily reflect the views of the Editorial Board or the School of Architecture of the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México. Reproduction of the articles is authorized provided that the source is cited and copyright is respected. This does not apply to images. Subscriptions (printed issues):to bitacoraunam@gmail.com and bitacora.arquitectura@unam.mx

We have done our best effort to find the copyright's owners of the images published in this issue. In some cases this was not possible, therefore we kindly ask them to contact the journal.

Last modification: September 21, 2020

Share This


Comparte este artículo