

“It’s the most democratic space in São Paulo, much more so than Ibirapuera. Felipe Rodrigues, an architect and one of the group’s spokespeople, emphasises a message that resonates with fans of the Minhocão Park. The city’s lack of parks and public spaces motivated a group of residents to form the “Associação Parque Minhocão” in 2013, to advocate in favour of transforming the viaduct – back then, already closed on Sundays and at night – into a permanent park. That created a demand, which the city government started responding to.” “It started with popular parties, like carnival.

“It feels like São Paulo has begun using public space better in the past five-to-ten years,” says Fernando, an events professional in his early 40s who cycles along the traffic-free Minhocão on a sunny Saturday afternoon, tells me. If this is Brazil’s biggest city’s response to Rio’s famed beach, it could not be more quintessentially São Paulo: intensely urban, pulsating and for the want of a better word, weird. One long-standing work, is of an urban mummy, the bandages made of roadways. The facades of buildings above are canvases for street artists. One window becomes a stage for children’s theatre, and has done every Sunday since 2013 the pedestrianised roadway hosts the audience. There is a magical interplay between the elevated park and the surrounding architecture.

This suspended park hovers some six to eight metres above street level, in a peculiar coexistence with the dense buildings adjacent. While closed to traffic, it is an appropriated space, welcoming joggers, dog-walkers, spliff-smoking skaters, sun-bathers and cyclists, who temporarily occupy its entire length. Though 78,000 vehicles pass on the Minhocão daily, it turns into a de facto park in the evenings and all weekend long.
