O Morrinho

Much debate between the three of us took place whilst in Rio re the ethics of favela tours (see my previous, somewhat caustic post). Whilst we’re all genuinely interested in finding out more about these communities, we all struggle somewhat with the ideology of paying to go on a tour round them. The other day, however, we got wind of an art installation created inside one of the favelas local to Santa Teresa, and decided we’d really like to check it out. As luck would have it, one of the women who works for Cama e Café, (the B and B network we are currently arranging our accommodation through), works as a volunteer on this project, and offered to take us up to see it. Favela Pereira Da Silva is a short walk from our B and B, so after a great breakfast courtesy of our host Augusto we set off with Daniella up the hill.

Pereira Da Silva, explained Daniella, is a very safe favela in which visitors are welcome and drug traffickers and the associated violence have been eradicated, both due in no small part to the success of the Morrinho art project, an installation was begun in the favela by two boys ten years ago.

The story of the Morrinho (literally, “Little Hill”) is a truly incredible one. It was begun when the two boys, who lived in a little shack in the forest at the edge of the favela, started to use the leftover hollow bricks from house construction to build a miniature town together outside their home, which they populated with people made from lego bricks. Gradually more local boys joined the game, and the miniature favela grew in size and complexity, becoming, over the next decade, a hugely complex and faithful representation of the boy’s community which today occupies over 300 square metres of land at the edge of the favela.




Some time ago, a documentary film maker heard about the phenomenon, and started to work with the boys to document their work. Slowly, visitors started entering the favela to see the world, and the boys (now men) have taken their Morrinho outside of the favela, constructing new versions as exhibitions, first in a Rio shopping centre, and then, as they gained national and international recognition for their work, further afield. They have since travelled to Barcelona, Paris and the Venice Biennial to construct new Morrinhos, and are bringing their world to Vienna, Berlin and Dubai in the coming year. With the assistance of the documentary film-maker, X, and an NGO, the boys have set up a media centre in the favela, have learned to film and edit episodes of this tiny soap opera, some of which have since been bought by Nickelodeon. This year, the documentary covering ten years of the Morrinho will be released in cinemas.
We walked through Favela Pereira Da Silva to where the neighbourhood gives way to the forest and the Morrinho begins. The first sight of it stretching up the hill takes one’s breath away. It is almost impossible to describe how powerful the effect of the Morrinho is, and no description I could write of it could do it justice. It is absolutely awe-inspiring. I’d have no hesitation in describing the Morrinho was one of the most powerful, moving and deeply affecting creative encounters I’ve ever experienced. It took my words away, and I walked around it completely dumbstruck, utterly humbled and totally overwhelmed by what I can only describe as the colossal creative energy of this endeavour. The Morrinho defies categorisation and all of the terms I have at my disposal fall flat. It’s an artwork of the most complex kind, and it’s also a gigantic playground, home to a phenomenal game.



The Morrinho is not a static model; it is truly alive, its inhabitant characters manipulated over years in a living soap opera by the boys and other children of the favela. It’s like Second Life, or The Sims, and a complex series of rules has evolved to govern this giant brincadeiro, written large on a sign nailed to a tree. There are no superheros in the Morrinho – characters live or die as they would in real life. Every aspect of the community has been reproduced. There are churches, garages, hospitals, a football team, crèches, bars, a TV station. The Morrinho is divided into districts, each looked over by one of the original boys (now men), and a map on the wall lays out the territory.

In Rio de Janeiro, the favelas exist pretty much outside state control and are governed instead by the organically arising justice systems of the gangs. Two main gangs, the Third Command and the Red Command, battle with each other to control the drug trafficking trade, and favela communities end up embroiled in the ongoing war between these gangs and the violent interventions of BOPE, the elite police force. Against this background, children grow up fast and sooner or later start playing with real guns, as young boys are recruited at an early age as foot soldiers for drug traders.

In Favela Pereira Da Silva, the young boys play out these deadly interactions with lego figures in the Morrinho. The details of the favela world, as seen through the eyes of these young men, are all there to be viewed: the BOPE headquarters, complete with helicopters, sits on high on the edge of the town, and look closely and you see trafficker’s lairs, guarded by armed lookouts and piled high with bling, BMWs parked outside.

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But in the favela itself, the drug traffic, arms and gangs have gone, due in no small part to a group of young men who opted out of involvement with the gangs in favour of a blooming future as international artists. These inspiring originators of the Morrinho obviously act as role models and mentors for the younger children who play in there now, gently enforcing laws of consequence. The Morrinho offers a powerful visual and psychological perspective on favela life for both its ongoing creators and those who visit it, and has clearly had a massive impact on the lives of its creators and the entire community. I was thrilled and moved by this unequivocal demonstration of how just how powerful play can be.

The Morrinho is, without a doubt, number 1 on my list of things to see while in Rio. Worth flying all the way to Brazil for, probably.

(the Morrinho´s own blog can be found here: )