
By stating how their gifts are to be used, those who donate property to the Government can help ensure that, after their deaths, no buildings rise in the gardens of their estates and their collections do not end up in auction houses. I would advise the owners of quintas and manor houses to seek their protection through heritage designation, so that these places are not destroyed in the future, taking their histories with them and impoverishing the Region’s urban fabric.
Contrary to what many people claim, the Regional Government cannot designate a house or property as protected heritage without its owner’s consent. During my time in government, two citizens, both now deceased, asked me to have their quintas protected. They naturally feared that, after their deaths, the estates might be altered and buildings erected in their gardens. They knew that their heirs could one day sell the properties to people with no scruples about building there, changing the gardens’ romantic character.
These were two splendid quintas in Funchal, and today, happily, both are protected. I knew their owners well and came to admire and respect them for the example they set in life: safeguarding a heritage that so greatly enriches the fabric of the city. Sadly, Madeira has already lost some of its quintas, and with them the stories of lives lived in ways unlike any other. As the great writer Maria Lamas, who spent time at the quinta of her friend Aníbal Trindade and fell in love with his island, put it: “Living in Madeira is one thing; living in a Madeira quinta is something else entirely.”
That thought leads me to those who wish their memory to endure beyond death and therefore leave the Region buildings or collections assembled over a lifetime. They hope to keep those collections from being divided among heirs, many of whom would promptly dispose of them.
People collect paintings, sculpture, tiles and furniture because they love them. They form a bond with pieces they once dreamed of owning and worked to acquire. I would call it a sentimental bond. It prompts a collector to reflect and, sometimes, to bequeath a building or collection to the Government, trusting that neither will pass into the hands of strangers. Such gestures also reveal love for the place where one was born—a kind of homage to the island.
Madeira has several examples of people who chose to donate their possessions to the Region rather than leave them to relatives. Dr. Frederico de Freitas left collections and furniture, including a precious collection of tiles. This valuable legacy is housed in what was once his residence, acquired by the Region. Today, the Dr. Frederico de Freitas House Museum is a distinguished part of Madeira’s museum heritage.
The poet Carlos Cristóvão gave his São Cristóvão estate in Machico to the Regional Government during his lifetime. The manor house includes the Chapel of São Cristóvão, which opens its doors each year to taxi drivers celebrating the feast of their patron saint. His wish was for the house to become a refuge for Portuguese and foreign writers and artists invited by the Government. They would spend a period there and leave behind some of their work, gradually building a collection bearing the names of renowned artists and writers.
Upon her death, Mrs. Hilária Diniz Freitas left the Regional Government the Solar do Aposento—its buildings, grounds and furnishings—in Ponta Delgada. Her wish, which was fulfilled, was that the house become a museum, since that northern parish had none to attract visitors. The Solar do Aposento holds a rich history of lives and gatherings. Its owner, a noblewoman from the north of the island, often welcomed friends with great care and served meals celebrated for the variety of their dishes.
The writer Maria do Carmo Rodrigues left a large building in the historic district of Santa Maria Maior. She expressed the wish that a space dedicated to her work be created there. It should be said that, in this case, the Government provided compensation.
The well-known antiques dealer Welzer left his extraordinary silver collection to the Quinta das Cruzes Museum. Difficult to place a value upon, this legacy greatly enriched the museum and remains one of its principal attractions for its exceptional richness and beauty.
There is no doubt that those who wish to preserve their heritage—those whose lives in the arts and letters made them prominent figures, and who hope their memory will pass from one generation to the next—should arrange, during their lifetimes, whatever they believe is needed to make that possible.
Each person has the right to decide what becomes of their possessions, works and archives. If someone wishes them to go to the National Library or to Porto, so be it. Whether artist or writer, no one should presume to criticize that decision. After all, who are we to pronounce another person’s choices right or wrong? Nor should we lay responsibility for those choices at the Government’s door.
Another matter belongs in this column: plaques marking the houses where writers, sculptors, scientists, politicians, poets and other distinguished people were born or lived. In many countries, one often finds such plaques on house fronts, recording a building’s importance because someone of note once lived within its walls. Tour guides frequently draw attention to them, with good reason: these places bring honor and distinction to their communities.
For centuries in Madeira, the homes of writers and artists went unmarked, even when streets were named after them. Following Autonomy, plaques were placed on certain houses, including the birthplace of Francisco Franco, an internationally recognized figure in Portuguese sculpture. One of Madeira’s most important secondary schools bears his name. Yet the plaque on the front of the house where he was born, on Rua da Carreira, has disappeared. We do not know whether someone stole it or whether it was removed by decision of the owner.
The same happened to the plaque on the house where the poet Edmundo Bettencourt was born. Although that house was rebuilt, a plaque could still have been placed beside it to mark the birthplace of one of Portugal’s great poets.
Translated by Diniz Borges
