Humberto Campana’s circle of life

For most of their careers, the Campana brothers were best known for their playful furniture made up of dozens of stuffed toys sewn together in a moment of Frankenstein-esque inspiration. Those pieces became pawns in the rocketing editions market, a lucrative intersection of fine art and design where nothing was ever actually sat upon. A Campana brothers Panda Banquete chair from circa 2005 was auctioned last year at Christie’s for $44,100. 

But joy is priceless, and those objects were infused with it. They were remarkable and significant designs, but also fresh and witty – and copied relentlessly. Fernando Campana died in 2022, aged 61, at what may not even have been close to the height of his career. Humberto has carried on. The Estúdio Campana exhibition On the Road, currently on show at Friedman Benda Gallery in New York, is his first as principal designer, but adheres to the core values of their studio on its 40th anniversary. 

Before Fernando’s death, the brothers worked on the ambitious Parque Campana, which Humberto is getting ready for its June opening. It’s this place – spread across 52 hectares of farmland, a two-and-a-half-hour drive from São Paulo, near his hometown of Brotas – that maps out what the legacy of the Campanas will be.

“We inherited the land from our father and had always thought about using it as a nature reserve,” says Humberto. “Fifteen years ago, we planted 15,000 native trees. But there were no plans to develop anything. We were always nomads, never here. We rented it out to farmers with cattle, but really just to protect it from anyone else moving in. 

“Then, during the pandemic, I began talking with my brother about how we had travelled the world working and giving talks, and should do something for our hometown. We had the idea of something where nature created the architecture, with bamboo, cactus and agave. We decided to create 12 pavilions, to create a link with the 12 cities of Tuscany, because that’s our family heritage, and Italy is the place that made us known internationally.”

A short film from 2022, released by Centre Pompidou just a month before Fernando’s death, shows the brothers walking through an already close to fully realised sculpture park. In the film, Fernando explains their intention for Parque Campana: “It’s a place where the DNA of our furniture can be transplanted into nature on a large scale.” One is drawn to Bamboo Cathedral, with loungers arranged in a broad circle, created out of local sandstone; the Eucalyptus Pavilion, inspired by Oscar Niemeyer’s architecture in Brasilia; and the Concrete & Agave Pavilion, a field of concrete columns of differing heights topped with agave plants. “Originally the columns were vertical,” says Humberto, “but it looked like a cemetery, so we changed them to be at different angles.” 

The park will take years to reach its full potential. There will be a restaurant with a menu incorporating local ingredients, a museum, and a workshop focused on significant Brazilian crafts. Looking at many of the areas now, it’s clear that visiting in the middle of the summer will be challenging. “We are planting more trees for shade,” says Humberto. “I am working with Gerd Spavorek, a retired professor in the soil sciences department of the School of Agriculture Luiz de Queiroz at the University of São Paulo, working out what should be planted, and when. He is helping us to restore the landscape to how it was in the beginning. In the 20th century, land all across Brazil was given over by the government to promote industrialisation. When my grandfather came from Italy and owned the place, it was used as a coffee plantation. Then, when he died, my father left it as it was. Gerd has helped us learn what is most important in terms of matching the right plants with the bees and animals in the area.”

From Naoshima to Yorkshire, sculpture parks are a global phenomenon in an era when ecology has become a cause of anxiety as well as a priority in the public consciousness. People have always wanted to engage with art, but now they also pointedly want to “touch grass” and hope they’ll be able to do so in the future. Humberto’s work is increasingly informed by the environmental crisis. One of the last major collections he worked on with his brother was Hybridism, shown in London in 2019, featuring cast-bronze animal figures, and chairs and cabinets covered in repurposed Amazonian fish skin. The collection was inspired by the story of Noah’s Ark and, as in much of their work, used South American materials. 

“In November, we had a heatwave in Brazil,” says Humberto. “All the plants burned. I am terrified of what’s going on. To see the animals disappear is tragic. I was reading about how the Amazon is being controlled by drug dealers, and in Ecuador there is a base for a cocaine cartel in the Galápagos. Latin America is full of corruption. We are in the hands of the mafia. The environment isn’t their priority.” Humberto says he feels a constant panic about the situation, but the park project gives him optimism. “It is intended to educate people about environmental issues as well as art. It is a place to heal and meditate.”

Spending time in his childhood home of Brotas has been a nostalgia trip. It was here that the brothers were encouraged to develop their drawing and design skills by their teachers, and absorbed the potential of colour in design from the stained glass in the church they attended for weekly mass. “What we have created here is a kind of amusement park for me, because it’s about childhood memories,” he says. “I remember the wall between us and our neighbour’s house was a collection of cacti, and we made a treehouse from bamboo. Me and my brother escaped reality by going to the cinema, and then we would recreate what we had seen on screen in our backyards.” 

The scale of the pavilions at the park is thrilling. Their graphic arrangement, in this huge expanse, has a powerful appeal. People are going to travel long distances to experience it. There is an aura of ritual, magic and fantasy around the place, which really does take the DNA of the Campana Brothers and explodes it on a new scale. It’s clearly emotional for Humberto that his brother is no longer here to witness it. “I dream of him often,” says Humberto. “I recently had one about him and the pavilion of bricks and the rocks in the park. Two weeks ago, I planted a weeping fig tree that I had picked up the day he died, in the middle of the circle. It had been in a vase until now. So now that’s him, he’s here.”