tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90970488817797960782023-11-16T03:37:59.895-08:00JORGE AMADO ESPECIALHomenagem a esse grande baiano, autor de livros e histórias inesquecíveis, como "Tieta do Agreste", "Dona Flor e seus Dois Maridos" e, claro "Gabriela, Cravo e Canela".Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-42918540882735039192009-01-06T13:24:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:27:44.859-08:00Museu Jorge Amado<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfQMWfnAyLhvEBZiq7MN_okexhyHnhE_GyGRVz8hS2hiPAVi1kM1fbno-_TElyptHMjaJrVT4v-ajo8O5SgFgu9_6YH59CaEHfLCdvjV-Ne4D3kHAWDE7S3TFGwxy5WgE0L5Kl32gBRVL/s1600-h/museo_jorge_amado.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzfQMWfnAyLhvEBZiq7MN_okexhyHnhE_GyGRVz8hS2hiPAVi1kM1fbno-_TElyptHMjaJrVT4v-ajo8O5SgFgu9_6YH59CaEHfLCdvjV-Ne4D3kHAWDE7S3TFGwxy5WgE0L5Kl32gBRVL/s400/museo_jorge_amado.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288295420545797330" border="0" /></a>No Pelourinho, Salvador, Bahia, o ponto de encontro dos fãs do genial escritor Jorge Amado.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-38321324988737634142009-01-06T13:23:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:24:40.197-08:00Quarteto Terrível<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1CdpKMmHHATjD2maVV23SzZiopPHXXWKLtOzZqOltMOggbvGlFpo1bsbn0khjtLLGu2GerHcErS1-35B9Lar1psxjc2sjHPTc9yXtjxQEYbv9OJf9JbDI3RNY8is4TJTo3YjC4qAqw1H0/s1600-h/foto035-juca.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 256px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1CdpKMmHHATjD2maVV23SzZiopPHXXWKLtOzZqOltMOggbvGlFpo1bsbn0khjtLLGu2GerHcErS1-35B9Lar1psxjc2sjHPTc9yXtjxQEYbv9OJf9JbDI3RNY8is4TJTo3YjC4qAqw1H0/s400/foto035-juca.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288294661726312994" border="0" /></a>Na Pedra do Sal, em Salvador, com Carybé, Juca Chaves e Georges Moustaki, em 1983. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-51184938955185021492009-01-06T13:22:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:23:42.430-08:00Pelé e Jorge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkdG-c3xjV29JMqKeLL4tEt3bHbz7eTXOKi1LMpK5wDWm-Afeu2EmcOaCh0q0lne8M4UUZJGbpQqHr8I6ppSRychMVUv9fAh8cfRsBPHDatksmbtQv6tT6kC-UQGSP99sC5qC_hlnN50Z/s1600-h/foto033-pele.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizkdG-c3xjV29JMqKeLL4tEt3bHbz7eTXOKi1LMpK5wDWm-Afeu2EmcOaCh0q0lne8M4UUZJGbpQqHr8I6ppSRychMVUv9fAh8cfRsBPHDatksmbtQv6tT6kC-UQGSP99sC5qC_hlnN50Z/s400/foto033-pele.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288294418634666914" border="0" /></a>Louco por futebol, Jorge sempre teve por Pelé - pelo esportista e pelo homem a maior admiração e grande estima. A foto é de 1986, no Palácio do Planalto. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-30174465229720274172009-01-06T13:21:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:22:39.911-08:00Reunião Espacial<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCaFkPvtpIu-npWcr9fdr9xywSKEEZ20jo7rS18fVHulO7Ft8Ap3yOynlqRObL7qL6fVmaKFPRdaKsdF0L0-Pt8SHhOn95LVHQInrhQcTImQdJiogY0s5-d8fhtmUw1BmLMr2ooVs0zTH/s1600-h/foto032-iuri-gagarin.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCaFkPvtpIu-npWcr9fdr9xywSKEEZ20jo7rS18fVHulO7Ft8Ap3yOynlqRObL7qL6fVmaKFPRdaKsdF0L0-Pt8SHhOn95LVHQInrhQcTImQdJiogY0s5-d8fhtmUw1BmLMr2ooVs0zTH/s400/foto032-iuri-gagarin.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288294198051272482" border="0" /></a>Com Raymundo Magalhães Júnior, Mauritônio Meira e Iuri Gagarin, por ocasião da visita do cosmonauta soviético ao Brasil, Rio, 1962. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-7013705403950276102009-01-06T13:17:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:21:37.463-08:00Caetano e Betânia<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWa-giaShf6Cf5XIq5XXxdqyVdFPqBa_2tB7mGaYRsYkSET43y4QaHwu9YFUavPBaHMGF4ykNaOmMttLyagBZO4gQnmljjhCvO7vjCarxM1ug8GixiCbBsuo1laif2YJDN_MSYAkqf7JYL/s1600-h/foto031-caetano.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWa-giaShf6Cf5XIq5XXxdqyVdFPqBa_2tB7mGaYRsYkSET43y4QaHwu9YFUavPBaHMGF4ykNaOmMttLyagBZO4gQnmljjhCvO7vjCarxM1ug8GixiCbBsuo1laif2YJDN_MSYAkqf7JYL/s400/foto031-caetano.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288293273326552034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7pEgqDnSYQVmVaRKR7UWXKLgMwIA6S9fOlak0cWTPmvFiKGXghEOye6cb2XDMP4yaZzBljQ9L3u7odBdK6q6BVEQZkS_XIOoKg4gy4VkIY6wYDLHkSAldMemp6lsSeGb2MWMzs92oZytN/s1600-h/foto030-bethania.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7pEgqDnSYQVmVaRKR7UWXKLgMwIA6S9fOlak0cWTPmvFiKGXghEOye6cb2XDMP4yaZzBljQ9L3u7odBdK6q6BVEQZkS_XIOoKg4gy4VkIY6wYDLHkSAldMemp6lsSeGb2MWMzs92oZytN/s400/foto030-bethania.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288293053181817938" border="0" /></a>A turma de Paloma e João, na Bahia, era formidável! Jovens inteligentes, sensíveis, alegres, sadios... Entre eles, Maria Betânia e Caetano Veloso, conhecidos como os meninos de dona canô e de seu Zeca de Santo Amaro da Purificação. De repente, começou-se a ouvir rumores de que os meninos Veloso eram bons de música: Caetano revelava-se um compositor de mão-cheia, um talento excepcional. Betânia estourou com sua voz inigualável em 1965 no Teatro Vila Velha, num programa semanal intitulado "Esta noite se Improvisa", onde o placo era franqueado a quem quisesse. Naquele sábado, Betânia entrou em cena e cantou Carcará, de João do Vale, e foi aquele entusiasmo da platéia, a aplaudir de pé a frágil menina de voz tão poderosa. Jamais esquecerei aquela noite. Hoje, conhecidos e amados tanto no Brasil como pelo mundo afora, os filhos de dona Canô e de seu Zeca continuam fiéis às suas raízes, na simplicidade, na personalidade dos que são realmente importantes. Nestas fotos vemos Maria Betânia com Jorge em Paris, 1986; Caetano Veloso com Jorge na casa do Rio Vermelho, Salvador, 1985. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-3310811711921410542009-01-06T13:16:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:17:15.897-08:00Silvio Caldas, grande amigo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvqnaGSns1iUFbUvpmEXXuGU9aAoUOlsDTb0M5tEmh75Rt8G1RTlu8VahJcb6ZYkLg89cNm0MGa2u2S_E_UU4mVy9ZywnA3nUs0XEkH9JgBMe8OcNdhYlsEccM3-XjU8KJV74ajcnphw1/s1600-h/foto029-caimmy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvqnaGSns1iUFbUvpmEXXuGU9aAoUOlsDTb0M5tEmh75Rt8G1RTlu8VahJcb6ZYkLg89cNm0MGa2u2S_E_UU4mVy9ZywnA3nUs0XEkH9JgBMe8OcNdhYlsEccM3-XjU8KJV74ajcnphw1/s400/foto029-caimmy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288292772841421138" border="0" /></a>Com o cantor Sylvio Caldas, amigo de juventude, na casa do Rio Vermelho - 1965. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-17140296825152094122009-01-06T13:14:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:16:15.002-08:00Casamento de João Gilberto e Astrud<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoN3h3E9bEb2ZF-dsW2lyvy7kjYGL3va7nWY_E3s6LYOFs63Nn5xErkvPnDkZWkh3PdnsEUfTSZmQx2ST4McV0TkF8wF-7xX4A0z3_aUVa8nSJauov-51L4k0uJM3Iov1qMoaVjHgnNsEG/s1600-h/foto028-joaogilberto.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 293px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoN3h3E9bEb2ZF-dsW2lyvy7kjYGL3va7nWY_E3s6LYOFs63Nn5xErkvPnDkZWkh3PdnsEUfTSZmQx2ST4McV0TkF8wF-7xX4A0z3_aUVa8nSJauov-51L4k0uJM3Iov1qMoaVjHgnNsEG/s400/foto028-joaogilberto.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288292435475686322" border="0" /></a>João Gilberto e Jorge são autores de uma canção em parceria no filme adaptado de Seara Vermelha por Alberto d'Aversa. Exigente e responsável como ele é só na criação das suas músicas, Joãozinho varou noites a fio ao violão antes de se dar por satisfeito e dar por terminada a melodia do Lamento de Dalva. Jorge Amado no casamento de João Gilberto com Astrud, no Rio de Janeiro do qual fomos padrinhos. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-43102213090621721562009-01-06T13:13:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:14:39.501-08:00Visita do maestro Tom Jobim<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjut7j_a647HufFJOhrLikOotrcfw1W1CcJDBAcS9avYJ0yzG4EdDm70Y_4mL50hG-CqLvigzuoJFDM8Cd7X-UVzQnJSeMIBFAGp9gDjFmfacjTD6vHD5yU1NciUfzIV0-DzwPxR-yDFFA_/s1600-h/foto027-tomjobim.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjut7j_a647HufFJOhrLikOotrcfw1W1CcJDBAcS9avYJ0yzG4EdDm70Y_4mL50hG-CqLvigzuoJFDM8Cd7X-UVzQnJSeMIBFAGp9gDjFmfacjTD6vHD5yU1NciUfzIV0-DzwPxR-yDFFA_/s400/foto027-tomjobim.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288292036103459730" border="0" /></a>Com Tom Jobin, na casa do Rio Vermelho, no reveillon de 1984. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-38026080939103502742009-01-06T13:12:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:13:32.622-08:00Jorge, Vinícius e... o inseparável copo!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXEHY5qrQ7JL44ui2yQiO4an9tA7C5f4rlm5g38S-HUKr6Y_z1NwlMdgfNLnl9sf484cosj1uogTlxfn_SE0cUoH567aSnRNb7newk56RdTETZ_xp4ic4LXW0al7AkJjsAWmT2NwsNednz/s1600-h/foto026-vinicius.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXEHY5qrQ7JL44ui2yQiO4an9tA7C5f4rlm5g38S-HUKr6Y_z1NwlMdgfNLnl9sf484cosj1uogTlxfn_SE0cUoH567aSnRNb7newk56RdTETZ_xp4ic4LXW0al7AkJjsAWmT2NwsNednz/s400/foto026-vinicius.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288291786613673954" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:black;">Com Vinícius de Moraes, na casa do Rio Vermelho, 1979. </span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-77712297554113970902009-01-06T13:09:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:11:49.359-08:00Jorge Amado escrevendo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3UTnswTOFc-BIrPiATlgFVLchrFTYCfxsZKBb70fs44f_a1XVCmYKmUPfn0-aII4MCHopXR-kDzO_mWPZbYYV3qsiplO86KbgXrw7G2tGUTo6DmxgxqTgQ_lHkDf1jVjkyaHtYELajeIn/s1600-h/foto025-escrevendo.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 379px; height: 503px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3UTnswTOFc-BIrPiATlgFVLchrFTYCfxsZKBb70fs44f_a1XVCmYKmUPfn0-aII4MCHopXR-kDzO_mWPZbYYV3qsiplO86KbgXrw7G2tGUTo6DmxgxqTgQ_lHkDf1jVjkyaHtYELajeIn/s400/foto025-escrevendo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288291215698868658" border="0" /></a>Na varanda da casa do Rio Vermelho, com o gato Nacib, escrevendo Dona Flor - 1966. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-14856169385935823412009-01-06T13:06:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:09:27.651-08:00Momento mágico de criação de um gênio<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJgCT0b4uVN9UdvIbmi3oo0XrFoWyEClLj5JiuV7OSnCpu_0DlQgjn9Uui3Y0FTJ1PQOysILAUvBt5FloK8seOg8mz0BTx0-DwDJgYExuyOTlPjU4d5Z7X6Y-V5wTXi_2yXG9uBAcKFha/s1600-h/foto024-pensando.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 269px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJgCT0b4uVN9UdvIbmi3oo0XrFoWyEClLj5JiuV7OSnCpu_0DlQgjn9Uui3Y0FTJ1PQOysILAUvBt5FloK8seOg8mz0BTx0-DwDJgYExuyOTlPjU4d5Z7X6Y-V5wTXi_2yXG9uBAcKFha/s400/foto024-pensando.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288290705619412258" border="0" /></a>No estúdio da casa do Rio Vermelho, escrevendo Tereza Batista, concentrado no trabalho, Jorge nem se deu conta da presença da fotógrafa, o que sempre acontece quando se encontra às voltas com os personagens de seus romances - 1972. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-56868244219299142009-01-06T13:05:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:06:24.229-08:00Jorge e Nacib<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBxrlS5trCtS9zSO3rF9qe4AO1a6RS_GRrFD2jROJTz80No14CpnhE3Sil48l_80KGM_VRc271-EDWv7jb7HfFZ6wwQpIupsGHnoqfIqETcoLIePHCSWTcLMgXfHzpPqutIJaKRslPnh5/s1600-h/foto023-mastroianni.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 254px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLBxrlS5trCtS9zSO3rF9qe4AO1a6RS_GRrFD2jROJTz80No14CpnhE3Sil48l_80KGM_VRc271-EDWv7jb7HfFZ6wwQpIupsGHnoqfIqETcoLIePHCSWTcLMgXfHzpPqutIJaKRslPnh5/s400/foto023-mastroianni.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288289939600710066" border="0" /></a>Em Paris, Marcello Mastroianni, que interpretou 'Nacib' no filme da Metro Gabriela, se hospeda no Hotel de I'Abbaye, o mesmo hotel em nos hospedamos há muitos anos. Nos encontramos sempre, e a cada encontro de Jorge com Marcello resulta em um bom bate-papo. Em Paris, 1986. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-91768523482968180892009-01-06T13:03:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:05:12.334-08:00Admirador de Fernanda Montenegro<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXF2lNIMVetOGYP8lyfMR5w9A4Gnd4TZQ_odBT51YMAVscR2DAuQ5L1mZ7iPuTv9cqtjj4ikP2lD6GGt1q9WqcROh2G3hdINDsbZZoprnlh_ilr1rPU3ANgB8pCYgW2tNXJLK1vCPQXEPT/s1600-h/foto022-fernandamontenegro.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXF2lNIMVetOGYP8lyfMR5w9A4Gnd4TZQ_odBT51YMAVscR2DAuQ5L1mZ7iPuTv9cqtjj4ikP2lD6GGt1q9WqcROh2G3hdINDsbZZoprnlh_ilr1rPU3ANgB8pCYgW2tNXJLK1vCPQXEPT/s400/foto022-fernandamontenegro.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288289602322512850" border="0" /></a>Jorge Amado sentiu-se homenageado pela Air France, em 1983, com o convite para fazer a entrega do Prêmio Molière para a melhor atriz de teatro do ano, Fernando Montenegro, de quem sempre foi grande admirador. Com Fernanda Montenegro no Rio - 1983. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-10663712224592096642009-01-06T13:01:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:02:59.879-08:00Sônia Braga, filha 3 vezes<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1RTYEeWjDfjZh0Bqu_HhEQl-QdfxnyHihXmODcICJd5qCXDukgpgl4zKt3ChiYyH9JAzZL4sJNh7byfQb7B3dc7u3hBtQ76alWwazKlbWCuN9R2BhnLF52IiIvKQuly03GU6Mk2OErLiZ/s1600-h/foto021-soniabraga.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 410px; height: 617px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1RTYEeWjDfjZh0Bqu_HhEQl-QdfxnyHihXmODcICJd5qCXDukgpgl4zKt3ChiYyH9JAzZL4sJNh7byfQb7B3dc7u3hBtQ76alWwazKlbWCuN9R2BhnLF52IiIvKQuly03GU6Mk2OErLiZ/s400/foto021-soniabraga.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288288936117119730" border="0" /></a>Sonia Braga sempre diz: "Sou filha de Jorge Amado três vezes: fui 'Gabriela' duas vezes, na novela da globo e no filme da Metro, e fui 'Dona Flor' no filme de Bruno Barreto". Jorge acrescenta: "Filha e amiga muito querida". Festival Internacional de Cinema em Cannes, 1985. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-37937141784136073592009-01-06T12:59:00.000-08:002009-01-06T13:00:59.361-08:00Uma Tieta chamada Sofia Loren<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKt686FnW_emPtDAcGuZfcipaA0H-0tcgLdj3eZYQplfzmUDRQDDM9uQt38EASYyLLgqC5j3YcL4p7ddnsfpMKi8cRBtccmg34V3-bF_ZEq7tB3WPaOH13Q-kkfJrexRm1Y_aFW7q-wxJK/s1600-h/foto020-sophialoren.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 298px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKt686FnW_emPtDAcGuZfcipaA0H-0tcgLdj3eZYQplfzmUDRQDDM9uQt38EASYyLLgqC5j3YcL4p7ddnsfpMKi8cRBtccmg34V3-bF_ZEq7tB3WPaOH13Q-kkfJrexRm1Y_aFW7q-wxJK/s400/foto020-sophialoren.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288288484252347218" border="0" /></a>Lina Wertmüller ia dirigir um filme adaptado de Tieta do Agreste. Sofia Loren seria a estrela principal. O projeto do filme gorou quando tudo estava pronto para a filmagem, na Itália, devido à falência do Banco Ambrosiano, que financiava o empreendimento. No apartamento de Sofia Loren, em Paris, 1980. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-52191485598623321702009-01-06T12:57:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:59:17.057-08:00Jorge Amado e Roman Polanski<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsP2xXRhtU0REHBVh3I7thrX4jpqb5vb0fsa9AekSyJUyA1IK44zPe6djLmk2-20nl4Njp-IlLIlWYebp7Z6LdAzBg08PAeNuthejXZQeh6QTY9NEa3m5R7Fev7AWnfT8iPoVd-1HwCRd/s1600-h/foto019-romanpolansky.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 278px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsP2xXRhtU0REHBVh3I7thrX4jpqb5vb0fsa9AekSyJUyA1IK44zPe6djLmk2-20nl4Njp-IlLIlWYebp7Z6LdAzBg08PAeNuthejXZQeh6QTY9NEa3m5R7Fev7AWnfT8iPoVd-1HwCRd/s400/foto019-romanpolansky.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288287905568837458" border="0" /></a>Roman Ponlanski apareceu na Bahia para conhecer Jorge Amado: "O senhor foi o escritor que li na minha adolescência, na Polônia", contou. Rio Vermelho - 1968.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-68503045881408904952009-01-06T12:56:00.001-08:002009-01-06T12:56:57.959-08:00Glauber Rocha, outro baiano genial<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJI6RjgMnvkwORZgX0iQrJk3kRyWQTMtoPAw3GHfykFYQihiBYK4tV9lTWCIktgvi_0E8lpEdkWyMUVZ1uj0xFTKhGAXerJ54Gg56aUM-Mc2O-1iqriLF-HUh5GH6SYiHhn6lA9SjWQHi/s1600-h/foto017-glauberrocha.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbJI6RjgMnvkwORZgX0iQrJk3kRyWQTMtoPAw3GHfykFYQihiBYK4tV9lTWCIktgvi_0E8lpEdkWyMUVZ1uj0xFTKhGAXerJ54Gg56aUM-Mc2O-1iqriLF-HUh5GH6SYiHhn6lA9SjWQHi/s400/foto017-glauberrocha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288268738042540018" border="0" /></a>Em 1968, com Glauber Rocha na porta do nosso restaurante chinês da rue du Sommerard, em Paris, restaurante que frenquentamos há séculos. (Zélia Gattai)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUAiT3-iMjULRTLKoP1Ez1FiJ2KXuHZbh5eCSSSZAvZr6pj_8tcyNgO6K3PARXCI382ppfUbf2RhV_d2GVDWJvYIYpZYnclurai4-_QIi8InmbFWrV4jn4VOee-ElYL5xqpgRKG80JCPN/s1600-h/foto018-glauberrocha.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTUAiT3-iMjULRTLKoP1Ez1FiJ2KXuHZbh5eCSSSZAvZr6pj_8tcyNgO6K3PARXCI382ppfUbf2RhV_d2GVDWJvYIYpZYnclurai4-_QIi8InmbFWrV4jn4VOee-ElYL5xqpgRKG80JCPN/s400/foto018-glauberrocha.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288268746911019794" border="0" /></a>Glauber era um menino quando o conhecemos. Ainda não havia filmado O Pátio. Jorge tinha por ele imensa ternura e acompanhou sua carreira passo a passo, dando-lhe semre maior força, esteve presente em momento difíceis de sua vida. Glauber retribuía com idêntica amizade e admiração. Realizou um documentário sobre Jorge, Jorgeamado no Cinema. Foi- nos dada a terrível provação de assistir sua agonia em Lisboa, em 1981. A foto que aqui se publica é o último retrato de Glauber, feito por mim no hospital lisboeta, poucos dias antes de sua morte. Glauber era um profeta, era um turbilhão, era São Jorge contra o dragão da maldade. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-3934461090297140692009-01-06T12:54:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:55:31.335-08:00Um refresco na piscina<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSLze4uG1vq7SgwdehnO86eIF2zcxEsVJ037cjD_JXWa91mNMC1pYwu6WoIsdLHj7yyC6h_oyzCRtAP9vcsouAE-z-7qV2x2nmON708_jiDmYwQNuQKrGieXctVs5GyjlF9npmb7J5Zdv/s1600-h/foto016-piscina.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKSLze4uG1vq7SgwdehnO86eIF2zcxEsVJ037cjD_JXWa91mNMC1pYwu6WoIsdLHj7yyC6h_oyzCRtAP9vcsouAE-z-7qV2x2nmON708_jiDmYwQNuQKrGieXctVs5GyjlF9npmb7J5Zdv/s400/foto016-piscina.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288287071060079154" border="0" /></a>Jean Rosenthal, diretor das EditionsStock, que publica há anos traduções francesas dos livros de Jorge, e Jean Claude Lattès, Diretor-Presidente das Organizações Hachette, editor de Jorge, foram à Bahia a convite do escritor para assistir à festa de Iemanjá. Nesse dia em nossa casa encontravam-se Zora e Antônio Olinto, vindos de Londres também para a festa do 2 de fevereiro. Pleno verão, fazia calor - principalmente para quem chega de rigoroso inverno europeu - e nada como um banho de piscina. Banho acompanhado de sorvete de pitanga, feito a capricho por Eunice, nossa antiga e fiel quituteira - 1985. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-29743095158201905842009-01-06T12:52:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:53:49.394-08:00Jorge Amado e José Sarney<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VsoebXl62V3ov-JOcG2GicRcJ9UYn5AvduP5MRPkgzJdUKwHA_1ksdEO1Xi2Fmj9G-uVhDHybdBm4GwW5BlygmZ65t28xa0DT0WBfBCDSQuAbvcuO-3v4Jpq5HXtbklOz7pD_6_NNXtf/s1600-h/foto015-sarney.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 295px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7VsoebXl62V3ov-JOcG2GicRcJ9UYn5AvduP5MRPkgzJdUKwHA_1ksdEO1Xi2Fmj9G-uVhDHybdBm4GwW5BlygmZ65t28xa0DT0WBfBCDSQuAbvcuO-3v4Jpq5HXtbklOz7pD_6_NNXtf/s400/foto015-sarney.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288286740835808642" border="0" /></a>Com o presidente da República, seu colega e amig, José Sarney, no Palácio da Alvorada, 1985. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-25068350780810176392009-01-06T12:51:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:52:41.371-08:00Academia Brasileira de Letras<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIq838bcb4IzRJcZ4eqhdoCBfo_PGcwSMYy5uQ2mMJVOCCfJ4_K9Rq6Y9EfSkF1Wow9CAkLVIpYbhObDDtYMGBhtKcoTMHs_Vk_wkiwSbGO-7zT8OW_LKRG0sw3UBmQEikoCME66QdHMi0/s1600-h/foto014-joaocabral.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIq838bcb4IzRJcZ4eqhdoCBfo_PGcwSMYy5uQ2mMJVOCCfJ4_K9Rq6Y9EfSkF1Wow9CAkLVIpYbhObDDtYMGBhtKcoTMHs_Vk_wkiwSbGO-7zT8OW_LKRG0sw3UBmQEikoCME66QdHMi0/s400/foto014-joaocabral.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288286476084540082" border="0" /></a>Um encontro com João Cabral de Melo Neto e Viana Moog, na Academia Brasileira de Letras, Rio, 1985. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-49307165625062150752009-01-06T12:47:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:49:53.001-08:00Irineu Garcia, João Ubaldo e Jorge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPybA0MipiaS_B5MALMqK7oWkPeA0azXlgEDGcNUo81nyIcr4e0JuHdp4L5BEizJ_T5GsV-hJuejXgfWyqBAV2_0bZeWIRRqkiMrTnfx-4nJ74pPq_L_bw4bYExOTeUGAPSYK6xevEKmpo/s1600-h/foto013-joaoubaldoribeiro.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 265px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPybA0MipiaS_B5MALMqK7oWkPeA0azXlgEDGcNUo81nyIcr4e0JuHdp4L5BEizJ_T5GsV-hJuejXgfWyqBAV2_0bZeWIRRqkiMrTnfx-4nJ74pPq_L_bw4bYExOTeUGAPSYK6xevEKmpo/s400/foto013-joaoubaldoribeiro.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288285395791889794" border="0" /></a>Irineu Garcia e João Ubaldo em Lisboa com Jorge, em 1981. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-28025724315321277402009-01-06T12:12:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:47:16.276-08:00Jorge, Sartre, Simone e Niemeyer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4x89Vk4lMvcVeYl4UNH2zGRVmmYCKljhb3UM6E8CfAPB7Q9xDVtHCet_Y-HbbWdiY4pNstpUPXyR96M3sqzpxiOA5CZmhcjHU7-pT0vT5vBOmMA1qBH2kH2YWOIdEzhgQEYXZThhjnhX/s1600-h/foto012-sartre.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 390px; height: 529px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK4x89Vk4lMvcVeYl4UNH2zGRVmmYCKljhb3UM6E8CfAPB7Q9xDVtHCet_Y-HbbWdiY4pNstpUPXyR96M3sqzpxiOA5CZmhcjHU7-pT0vT5vBOmMA1qBH2kH2YWOIdEzhgQEYXZThhjnhX/s400/foto012-sartre.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288276294798127682" border="0" /></a>Em Brasília, Sartre e Simone se deslumbram com a arquitetura de Oscar Niemeyer, na opinião deles um artista genial. Oscar explica ao casal detalhes de seus edifícios. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-48722025437627671742009-01-06T12:11:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:12:20.075-08:00Jorge Amado e Cora Coralina<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDaMxHtIS0MtDNpj-q3EN9sH93fGiarY8dZo12JqUei8bYXYpD3K9wr53d1-bEB3-2hFKhdoaKNxWuac0juP8VE3SIhh27GiPABPJY7y_mBEe6JYkdniUGEU4IxT02aI8pGG2_H1szxFx0/s1600-h/foto011-cora.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDaMxHtIS0MtDNpj-q3EN9sH93fGiarY8dZo12JqUei8bYXYpD3K9wr53d1-bEB3-2hFKhdoaKNxWuac0juP8VE3SIhh27GiPABPJY7y_mBEe6JYkdniUGEU4IxT02aI8pGG2_H1szxFx0/s400/foto011-cora.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288276002253184322" border="0" /></a>Cora Coralina enviava poemas e doces para Jorge. Com a poetisa na casa da Ponte, em Goiás Velho, 1977. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-88623340059287900942009-01-06T12:09:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:10:19.734-08:00Jorge, Sosigenes e Carlos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4TwqSYDSh03SPMdTBnZDszdYhIxZE-uX06oyiEKitMmI_Y46MmiPpoujq-p4O5Rn_CDBeek1HUsYVjY_8AcK6IQupE2IpNIQBhtJsAthOK7fhh1HCWl3DqwvBG1TKzHZRENQrgyOH9xzR/s1600-h/foto010-sosigenes.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 260px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4TwqSYDSh03SPMdTBnZDszdYhIxZE-uX06oyiEKitMmI_Y46MmiPpoujq-p4O5Rn_CDBeek1HUsYVjY_8AcK6IQupE2IpNIQBhtJsAthOK7fhh1HCWl3DqwvBG1TKzHZRENQrgyOH9xzR/s400/foto010-sosigenes.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288275429312876642" border="0" /></a>Dois poetas, dois amigos inesuecíveis, Sosígenes Costa, baiano de Belmonte, e Carlos Pena Filho, Pernambuco de Recife, ambos desaparecidos prematuramente, perda para o poeta e tristesa para os amigos. Com Jorge, no apartamento do Rio de Janeiro, 1960. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9097048881779796078.post-64138200126392858902009-01-06T12:05:00.000-08:002009-01-06T12:08:58.674-08:00Jorge, Genaro Carvalho e Ivo Pitanguy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX40h5JcKftxP8oeNGKE5XylbgH9SjRsxBUTl4FyjCtDS4tsPSKo3BX2RM7_N6uVvIlU6hPygpVSqsW25M2dLx6ugI683sR63_q_cmSleRCTXVFTmhTnExmlaHQNsnF3v_JRxJTdoCfe6_/s1600-h/foto009-pitanguy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 294px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX40h5JcKftxP8oeNGKE5XylbgH9SjRsxBUTl4FyjCtDS4tsPSKo3BX2RM7_N6uVvIlU6hPygpVSqsW25M2dLx6ugI683sR63_q_cmSleRCTXVFTmhTnExmlaHQNsnF3v_JRxJTdoCfe6_/s400/foto009-pitanguy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288275099190580514" border="0" /></a>Na casa do Rio Vermelho, Jorge Amado com o artista Genaro de Carvalho e o cirurgião plástico Ivo Pitanguy, ogan de Xangô - 1970. (Zélia Gattai)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0