The map of art deep into Brazil and Renan Quevedo's journey through the different accents of the territory traduzido por: OPENROUTER

The first time Renan Quevedo left São Paulo in search of a Brazilian popular artist was also the most improvised. He was working at a large advertising agency when he decided to personally meet Noemisa Batista dos Santos, a ceramist from the Jequitinhonha Valley whom Quevedo had known only through books. He rented a car from one day to the next, finished work on a Friday and, at eight in the evening, was on Marginal Pinheiros, driving toward Minas Gerais.

It was a 14-hour drive. He stopped only to fill up, eat a cheese bread, have a coffee, and continued the journey. He arrived in the Valley the following morning, when he discovered that, to reach Noemisa's house in the rural area, he would have to accept help from a stranger he met at a small market. When he finally arrived, he had only half an hour to talk to Noemisa before facing another 14 hours back to São Paulo. "It was a trip that transformed my life, it was a turning point," Renan recalls.

The following month, he repeated the trip. And then again. In all, he would return to the Jequitinhonha Valley another 40 times.

First stop

Renan Quevedo e Zé Bezerra. (Divulgação/Renan Quevedo/CASACOR)

Renan has always been interested in art. A graduate in Advertising from ESPM, it was during his undergraduate studies that he first came into contact with Brazilian popular art. "At that time, I couldn't even name a single Brazilian popular artist," he says. It was after a visit to the Tomie Ohtake Institute, in 2012, that Renan began researching art on his own, and, little by little, curiosity became too great to remain a hobby.

Still at the agency, Renan began using vacations, holidays and any possible gap to cross the country in search of popular artists. He went to Pernambuco, Pará, Mato Grosso, Rio de Janeiro, and to the south of Brazil. He met researchers, curators, artists' families and characters he didn't expect to find along the way. "I would arrive at a gas station, small market or tire shop, introduce myself and say: 'I'm looking for artists, artisans, who work with wood, tapestry, ceramics'".

Izabel, Andreia e Gloria Andrade, ceramistas de Santana do Araçuaí, Minas Gerais. (Divulgação/Renan Quevedo/CASACOR)

Thus began his mapping of popular art in deep Brazil: following clues he received from improbable characters along the way. In 2017, he left the agency and hit the road again, this time with no date to return. He traveled more than 27,000 kilometers in about seven months, passing through 16 states and the Federal District. Thus was born, still in an embryonic way, Novos Para Nós — a research and mapping project dedicated to Brazilian popular art.

A trail of encounters

The project's name works almost as a provocation. An artist may be renowned in his own city or have produced for decades and still remain new to much of the public. It is precisely this distance — geographic, social, cultural — that his work seeks to shorten.

Today, in addition to research, Novos Para Nós brings together curatorial work, exhibitions, special projects, lectures and a commercial operation. At the end of 2025, Renan opened a physical space on Alameda Itu, in São Paulo, where he gathers productions from different parts of the country. Participation in SP-Arte Rotas 2026, which closed on August 30, was another development of this journey.

But the soul of the work continues to be that simple logic of the road: to ask.

One story leads to another

Jasson Gonçalves da Silva e Renan Quevedo. (Divulgação/Renan Quevedo/CASACOR)

One of the stories that best captures the project happened in Alagoas, with Jasson Gonçalves da Silva. Renan only knew that the artist was from Alagoas and had heard about his work through galleries and collectors, but no one said exactly where he lived. The clue came, once again, from a mundane place: a gas station.

It took Renan months to reach the artist's house: he took wrong turns and took paths that led nowhere. One day, he found an older man crouched near a fence, working with wood. After two hours of conversation, Jasson finally introduced himself and took him to see his work.

At the time, his work was bought by few people and for low prices. Production existed, but it was practically confined to that stretch of Alagoas. After the story was published, galleries, shops and institutions began to seek him out. In a short time, his work reached other markets. Within a year, one of his chairs made it to Milan Design Week.

Marcos de Sertânia. (Divulgação/Renan Quevedo/CASACOR)

Despite this, Renan does not see himself as someone who "creates" artists, but as a bridge. "I can't say: value this here. What I can do is offer a space so that you can get in touch if you want to value it, if you want to learn more. If you don't want to, it's up to you."

Art that emerges spontaneously

Calling these artists "popular" is something Renan does with care. The term can carry prejudices, he acknowledges. But he also believes it is still useful for defining a body of work that often emerges precisely outside formal institutions. "These are artists who built their languages from work, family, religion, landscape, memory, and the stories heard in childhood".

In the Jequitinhonha Valley, this knowledge is passed from one generation to another. Dona Izabel, for example, began making pottery out of necessity, after being widowed and needing to support her children. She produced pots, water jugs and other utilitarian items, until one day she placed a woman's head on a water jug.

In the following decades, she created dolls that would make her known, especially the brides. Later, international recognition came. One of Dona Izabel's most important legacies, however, may have been another: she taught the craft to her children, neighbors and friends. Santana do Araçuaí, where she lived, came to have in pottery production an important source of income. "When she shares her knowledge, she only makes it multiply," says Renan.

This logic also appears in the trajectories of João Pereira, son-in-law and disciple of Dona Izabel, and of Elia Soares, who learned to model clay with her mother, who had learned from her own mother. It appears among sculptors who followed their fathers, such as Francisco Graciano, son of Manuel Graciano.

A Brazil made of accents

Zé Bezerra. (Divulgação/Renan Quevedo/CASACOR)

In the works, the characteristics of the territory appear in the material, in the characters, in the festivities, in the animals, in the beliefs and even in the way of inventing.

Véio transforms discarded trunks, branches and roots into figures that seem to be born from within the wood itself. Ulisses Pereira Chaves transformed the clay of the Jequitinhonha into hybrid creatures, fed by dreams and visions. José Antônio da Silva recorded rural life in paintings, while Agostinho Batista de Freitas transferred to the canvas both the plantations and the buildings, avenues and signs of São Paulo.

Renan Quevedo e Espedito Seleiro. (Divulgação/Renan Quevedo/CASACOR)

For that very reason, it is difficult to speak of a single Brazilian popular art: "these territories of Brazil pulse with different identities and the artists manage to externalize a repertoire that is very unique".

He speaks of "accents," understanding that each place has its own way of looking at the world and organizing what happens around it. The Amazon offers raw materials different from those of the Cerrado. The sertão, in turn, carries particular festivities, beliefs and stories. In the Jequitinhonha Valley, the chain of knowledge about clay is centuries old. "I think these works function as a true written memory of these people, these peoples, these territories, these states".

Travel memories

Today, Renan still travels. He continues to receive messages from artists and their families, gathering recommendations and adding new pieces to this mosaic of Brazilian art that he has been building for almost a decade. He keeps searching for stories that have also transformed his own way of seeing the world. One of the most important things these trips have taught him, he says, was another idea of sensitivity. "For me, sensitivity has nothing to do with fragility. In fact, it's the opposite. It has to do with shock, with courage, with failure".

Renan says he has somewhat lost count of the road. It's at least 300,000 kilometers driven, many flat tires and detours. There is, however, one count he cannot make: that of the encounters accumulated over these years. The hours of conversation, the coffees shared, the stories told at the table, the artists who came back to seek him out, the children and grandchildren who today follow the teachings of those who came before. After so many roads, what Renan seems to have found is not just a broad map of Brazilian art, but a network of people that was already there, just waiting to be woven together.

traduzido por: OPENROUTER