RIO DE JANEIRO (AP) - A truck loaded with trash climbs a mountain of garbage, scattering a hoard of vultures. As it spills out its load, men and women reach into the stream for tin cans, plastic bottles, paper _ anything they might sell _ as the vultures swoop back in, fighting for scraps of food.
This landfill, one of the world’s largest, operates 24 hours, seven days a week, taking in more than 9,000 tons of garbage daily from Rio de Janeiro and four other cities. With organized recycling still in its infancy in Brazil, most salvaging of reusable materials from Rio’s trash happens here, through the heavy, dirty work of about 5,000 “catadores,” or trash pickers.
After decades of anonymity, the workers of the Gramacho Municipal Landfill have been catapulted to fame by a collaboration with Brazilian artist Vik Muniz, who used the trash they sort to create portraits of the pickers. A documentary recording that experience is now vying for an Oscar.
On Feb. 27th, the recyclers plan to watch the awards show from the community of plywood, tin and cardboard shacks where many of they live, a short walk from the dump.
“I can’t say this is a dream that’s come true, because who would have imagined this?” asked Luciana dos Santos, a former trash sorter who now is financial director of the workers association at Gramacho.
Even as the workers enjoy their moment in the spotlight, they’re steeling themselves for change many of them have long feared: the closure of the landfill. Built on unstable, ecologically sensitive marshland in 1977, Gramacho was long blamed for polluting Guanabara Bay, and it is running out of space.
Three days after the Oscars ceremony, the first load of trash will go to a state-of-the-art facility that meets stringent new environmental regulations, but has no room for the catadores. By December, Gramacho will be closed, transformed into a biogas facility.
The money raised through their collaboration with Muniz has helped many of the catadores prepare by establishing worker-run recycling co-ops. For many others, whose only jobs have been sorting through trash, the closure will be traumatic.
Things first started changing for the catadores when Brooklyn-based Muniz visited the dump in 2007, seeking elements to use in his next project. Muniz, born into a Brazilian working class family, is known for art that incorporates materials from dust to diamonds. Often the elements themselves carry a message, as when he created portraits of the children of sugarcane cutters out of sugar itself.
Muniz took photos of the workers in epic poses that drew from their own experiences, reproducing, for example, Jacques-Louis David’s “The Death of Marat” and Pablo Picasso’s “Woman Ironing.” The image was blown up until it filled the floor of a warehouse-sized studio. Trash was used to fill in the details, giving it color and texture. The final result, an image so large it had to be seen from above, was then photographed.
The documentary shows how the catadores start to see themselves differently as they help build their own portraits.
Suelem Pereira Dias, who started working in the dump when she was 7 years old and was supporting two children by the time she was 18, had seen few if any pictures of herself before, said Muniz.
When she and others suddenly see their own faces rendered larger than life, they are moved to tears. The experience also gives some of the participants enough distance from their daily grind to start imagining a life away from the stench of the landfill.
“It was a very strong, emotional situation,” said Muniz. “The fact that they had worked on it and the fact that that image was made with nothing but the stuff that they deal with every day, that for me was the most important thing.”