Roberto Burle Marx. The Modernity of Landscape

Contents

Forewords

José MaurÍcio Bustani

6 9 10

31

37

François de Mazières AND Francis Rambert Lauro Cavalcanti AND Farès El-Dahdah

Roberto Burle Marx The Permanence of the Unstable Lauro Cavalcanti Unstable Landscapes Farès El-Dahdah

204 Landscape architecture

in the city

Roberto Burle Marx (1983)

223 Parterres en l’air : Roberto Burle Marx

231

42 Concepts of composition in landscape architecture Roberto Burle Marx (1954)

57

63

69

From Modernism to Ecology Jacques Leenhardt

The Science of Perception

Bifurcations Lars Lerup Landscapes seen by Leonardo Finotti

The garden as art form Roberto Burle Marx (1962)

141

Dorothée Imbert

Cannibalizing Le Corbusier: The MES Gardens Valérie Fraser Landscapes seen by Leonardo Finotti

240 Gardens of the Ministry of Education

and Health, Rio de Janeiro 246 Avenida Atlântica, Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro 254 Parque do Ibirapuera, São Paulo

262 Gardens of the Superquadra 308, Brasília

266 Gardens of the Banco Nacional de Desenvolvimento

Econômico e Social (BNDES), Rio de Janeiro 270 Gardens of the Petrobras Building, Rio de Janeiro

José Tabacow

72 Pampulha Lake Complex 78 Aterro do Flamengo Park, Rio de Janeiro 94

Garden of the Francisco Pignatari Residence, São Paulo 102 Garden of the Cavanellas Residence, Petrópolis

108

and the Modernist Roof Garden

A Planetary Modernist Lélia Coelho Frota

149

Three Private Gardens

Landscapes seen by Leonardo Finotti

André Corrêa do Lago

154 Gardens of the Ministry of the Army, Brasília

160 Gardens of the Itamaraty Palace, Brasília

166 Gardens of the Ministry of Justice, Brasília

170 Garden of the Olivo Gomes Residence,

São José dos Campos 178 Garden of the Walther Moreira Salles Residence,

Rio de Janeiro 186 Garden of the Clemente Gomes Residence,

Fazenda Vargem Grande, Areias 192 Banco Safra Headquarters on Avenida Paulista 196 Interventions on two buildings of Banco Safra Rua Bela Cintra / Rua da Consolaçâo, São Paulo 200 Six patios for the UNESCO Headquarters, Paris

274 Insights into a contemporary approach 277

An Aesthete Between Species and Spaces Francis Rambert

281

Heritage and Complicities Conversation with GILLES CLÉMENT

287 In Praise of a Plant Amateur Interview to Patrick Blanc

Landscapes seen by Leonardo Finotti

Sítio Roberto Burle Marx, Santo Antônio da Bica 290

Appendices

321

Plant Alphabet

323

Bibliography

329

Chronology (1909-1994)

342

Index of Illustrations

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

Partial view of the Aterro do Flamengo, Rio de Janeiro. In the background, the Museu de Arte Moderna designed by Eduardo Affonso Reidy, 1954. In the center of the image, the World War II Memorial designed

by Marcos Konder Netto, 1957. Photograph by Marcel Gautherot, Instituto Moreira Salles.

Avenida Atl창ntica and the Copacabana promenade, Rio de Janeiro, c. 1970.

Photograph by Marcel Gautherot, Instituto Moreira Salles.

28

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

Roberto Burle Marx The Permanence of the Unstable Lauro Cavalcanti

In a short poem, Oswald de Andrade laments the downpour on the day Brazil was discovered. Had it been a sunny day, he writes, the indigenous peoples would have undressed the Portuguese and, naked together, they would have created a playful matriarchal civilization in the newly discovered land. As we know, however, not only did the Portuguese clothe the natives, but they also decimated a significant number of them, and the remnants were, for the most part, regrettably acculturated.

Viewed as a perilous den of wild beasts and home to hostile aborigines, the native forest was cleared as well; at best, the local flora was considered a source of wealth to be extracted and shipped to Europe. And so it was, in celebration of the colonial occupation’s speculative priorities, the new land was named after its most valuable timber tree. Clearings were opened around settlements, and slash and burn—one of the few (bad) indigenous habits that the explorers mimicked and developed— preceded cultivation as this clearing method supposedly increased soil fertility.

The early settlement of Brazil took place along a slim coastal strip, with rare, epic, and devastating forays inland for minerals, which soon dominated the shipments to Lisbon. Squeezed as they were between forest and ocean, our forebears turned

31

the permanence of the unstable

their backs to the continent, protected themselves from the wild, popularized the word saudade (a bittersweet and intense yearning for things past and afar), and held the belief that all good and sophisticated things lay overseas.

Much to the chagrin of historic determinists, nothing in the origins of Brazil and in its elite’s unshakable aversion to native species indicated that the country would eventually give birth to the man who invented, and established planetaryscale parameters for, twentieth-century landscape architecture. Geography was not helpful either: by and large, artists in peripheral nations limit themselves to translating and implementing visual forms and ideas previously developed in Europe or the United States. More often than not, distance relegates them to mere followers of preestablished schemes or casts them into a compulsory regionalism as exoticism is the only way for them to draw international interest. How to explain, therefore, the appearance of Roberto Burle Marx, apart from his great personal qualities? In part, it was his upbringing in a family that blended common sense and sophistication in its mix of German, French, and northeastern Brazilian cultures, and whose status enabled him to develop a fine social network. But above all it was

Concepts of composition in landscape architecture Roberto Burle Marx —1954—

Preliminary ideas for a garden, 1929. Pastel on paper, 30 x 46 cm.

Burle Marx & Cia. Ltda Archives, Rio de Janeiro.

The long and rather broad experience I have gained since the third decade of this century working as a landscape architect in the design, implementation, and conservation of gardens, parks and large urban areas now enables me to conceptualize the garden problem as another way of saying adaptation to the ecological environment so as to meet the natural requirements of civilization. Based on a fair amount of experience, this concept, that is to say, my current thinking is not meant to be original or to unearth anything new; above all, because my work has resulted from a historical trajectory and a concern for the natural environment.

In reference to my life as an artist, having had a most rigorous training in the disciplines of drawing and painting, the garden was, in fact, the product of sedimentary circumstance. It came about from my interest in applying the fundamentals of aesthetic composition to nature itself, in accordance with the aesthetic sentiment of my epoch. In short, it was a way I found of organizing and composing my drawing and painting with less conventional materials.

To a large extent I can explain my developments in relation to the reality of my generation, when painters were faced with cubism and abstractionism. Juxtaposing of the aesthetic attributes of these art movements with elements from nature was what drew me toward new experimentation. I then chose to use natural topography as a surface for composition, taking mineral or plant elements 43

found in nature as materials for aesthetic organization, just as other artists use canvas, paints and brushes for their compositions.

The critics most interested in my work have repeatedly pointed out the stylistic relation between painting and my landscape architecture. Geraldo Ferraz and Clarival Valladares have viewed my entire oeuvre as belonging to one aesthetic unit, and I myself am the first to admit the absence of artistic differences between the singularity of a painting and that of a constructed landscape. Only the means of expression differ.

Over time, as my experience with nature and the work dedicated to it grew, I gradually became more conscious of  the work I have been undertaking.

I am uninterested in judging my own work; I would rather see it increasingly understood in terms of its reasons and function for its environment and epoch.

I have consistently refused to acknowledge the most frequent and common evaluation of my work for its originality, the quality or purpose of which, were never a concern for me.

My philosophical conceptualization of the constructed landscape, be it a garden, park or development of urban area, is situated along the historical trajectory of all epochs while recognizing, in each period, the expression of aesthetic thought manifested in the other arts. In this sense, my work reflects modernity, the time in which it is

composition IN LANDSCAPE

executed, yet never loses sight of the reasons of tradition itself, which are valid and desired.

If asked what early philosophical attitude was adopted for my garden, I would promptly reply that it is exactly the same one that translates the behavior of Neolithic man: that of altering natural topography to accommodate human existence—individual and collective, utilitarian and pleasurable. There are two landscapes: the natural and given, as well as the humanized and constructed.

The latter corresponds to all interventions derived from necessity. However and aside from the implications arising from economic reasons (transport, supplies, produce, housing, manufacturing complexes, etc.), there is surely a landscape defined by aesthetic necessity, which is neither luxury nor wastefulness, but absolute necessity for human life and without which civilization itself would lose its ethical reason.

There are historical periods for certain regions in which the balance of social order is projected onto the configuration of constructed landscapes. It is no overstatement to claim that the history of the garden (of the constructed landscape, that is) relates to the history of the ethical and aesthetic ideals of corresponding epochs.

It is true that the West’s history of the garden differs from that of the East’s. It is different and poorer, aside from being more recent. Also known is the degree to which landscape architecture in the West was influenced by the East from the fourteenth century onward, in Italy, and long before, in the Iberian Peninsula.

Considering the presence of the conceptual garden in the most remote historical past, it is possible to document involvement in all epochs, beginning with examples of Neolithic behavior, since the first stages of civilization, that is, when sedentariness, land cultivation and specific artisanal/utilitarian practice (dwelling, protection, and pottery) came to be defined.

The form of Neolithic vases and tools, as a well as their decorative elements, shows the presence of, and preference for, biomorphic motifs, i.e., for the plants and animals of their environment, which were already part of an aesthetic reality.

Hence objects taking on the forms of examples from nature, already related to human perception in a sentient situation already viewed as beautiful aside from useful.

Almost all cases of stylized plant or animal figures found in Neolithic behavior show an establishment of a contemplative posture, over which an artistic consciousness determined the representation of the object beyond its physical reality, often turned into a symbol, yet always resolved in terms of aesthetic organization.

The moment civilization became organized with more definite social and political structures (Egypt and Mesopotamia), artistic and creative work intervened more directly in the natural topographic surface.

44

This is when architecture took upon itself the major role of imposing thought and aspirations on physical nature while attempting to alter it from its original state to a vision of human domination. Hence the emergence of a civilization characterized not only by accounts of episodes and codes, but above all by conscious intervention on the physical landscape to the point of transforming it into a constructed landscape capable of establishing the impact of an ethical (religious and political) and aesthetic vision (preferred form, definition of fine materials, style creation) found in the culture of each community.

In accordance with the ecological environment, architecture and constructed landscape were thereby defined. The physical conditions of the ancient Near East were to correspond to selected materials and preferred solutions for the work of art.

The mythological text of each civilization is often associated with a specific idea of landscape, or directly related to descriptions of a constructed garden.

The four daughters of Hesperis were gardeners in an orchard of gold apples near Agadir, guarded by a dragon that never slept. In the Valley of Kings, in Egypt, a burial inscription refers to a gardener of pharaohs.

The entire Hellenic mythology is played out between oneiric gardens and elements of botanical nature.

The very decoration of a column of the Corinthian order —the acanthus leaf and its legendary origin—reveals the aesthetic interaction between Man and his natural landscape chosen as inspiration for architecture. The whole meaning of a Dionysian existence (Bacchus), or the entire fable of Artemis (Diana) or Aphrodite (Venus), involves ideas taken from a landscape architectural world.

Accounts of the emergence of ancient empires of the Chaldean-Assyrian civilization, such as Babylon, include references to fantastic gardens already featuring pageantry and power. Lest we forget the case of the legendary hanging gardens of Semiramis, where constructed garden and architecture were combined.

The many different civilizations that came about in Asia Minor (Iran, Iraq and Syria’s Mediterranean coast) are recalled in associations of landscape-related episodes and constructions. Sumerians, Babylonians and Chaldeans, Hittites, Hebrews, Assyrians, Persians and all the others from this region left their mark on man’s historical text in relation to landscape. On account of its natural fertility, all of Mesopotamia—between the Tigris and Euphrates rivers —became the legendary cradle of humanity, the presumed site of the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve’s paradise.

Even if only mentioning one of current Western civilization’s ancestry—the Hebrew heritage—, it is worth underscoring that the genesis described in the Bible takes place within the framework of a complete landscape architectural context. God, Creator of the world and life, is in Hebrew Scriptures, the builder and the artist of a

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

Roof garden of the Alfredo Schwartz residence in Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, 1932.

Architects Lúcio Costa and Gregori Warchavchik. Casa de Lúcio Costa Archives.

45

composition IN LANDSCAPE

46

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

Gardens of Casa Forte, Recife, 1937. Chinese ink on paper, 57,5 x 86,5 cm.

Sítio Roberto Burle Marx Archive, IPHAN/MinC. Garden in Recife (Pernambuco), 1935. Chinese ink on paper, 65 x 79,5 cm.

Sítio Roberto Burle Marx Archive, IPHAN/MinC.

47

composition IN LANDSCAPE

Landscape project, garden of Pandanus, Recife, 1935-1937.

Chinese ink on paper, 64 x 79,5 cm.

Sítio Roberto Burle Marx Archive, IPHAN/MinC.

Cactário da Madalena (Euclides da Cunha Square), Recife, 1935.

Chinese ink on paper, 40 x 52 cm.

Sítio Roberto Burle Marx Archive, IPHAN/MinC.

Gouache plan for gardens of the Grand H么tel in Pampulha (Minas Gerais), 1942, 100 x 138,5 cm.

Burle Marx & Cia. Ltda Archives, Rio de Janeiro.

54

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

Garden for the Odette Monteiro residence (today: Fazenda Marambaia), CorrĂŞas (Rio de Janeiro), 1948.

Planting scheme (left) and gouache plan, 90 x 120 cm. Burle Marx & Cia. Ltda Archives, Rio de Janeiro.

55

composition IN LANDSCAPE

Pampulha Lake Complex

Pampulha, Belo Horizonte (State of Minas Gerais), 1942 Gardens for the Casino, Yacht Club, ballroom, restaurant and S達o Francisco de Assis church Architect: Oscar Niemeyer

73

90

91

aterro do flamengo park

Garden of the Francisco Pignatari Residence (Roberto Burle Marx Park) S達o Paulo, 1956 Architect: Oscar Niemeyer Surface area: 438,000 m2

95

Garden of the Cavanellas Residence (Fazenda Tacaruna) Pedro do Rio, state of Rio de Janeiro, 1954 Architect: Oscar Niemeyer Surface area: 6,648 m2

106

107

cavanellas residence

The garden as art form

Roberto Burle Marx —1962—

The designed garden seems to be as old as recorded history. It is one of the earliest forms of art. In mythology, the garden appears as an ideal conception, a place for gods—the Garden of Eden, the Garden of the Hesperides, the Garden of Allah.

Not many details of these gardens are known today; reconstructing the Garden of Eden from references taken from the book of Genesis would be all but impossible. We could deduce, rather than discover, what its aspect should be like. And they all had one thing in common: they were ordered reconstructions of nature itself, natural settings from which the element of fear had been removed and grew in the most perfect and pleasing manner, thanks to the laborious assistance of Man. Sporadic sources of fear are wild animals, reptiles, and spiders that attest, I would say, to the ideal conception of garden as a place where man exercises control over nature—or his friendship with nature, if you like—by recognizing his dependence on it.

A garden is not simply the product of frivolous idleness; much less is it a magic mantle unfurled to cover defective proportions, contradictory masses, or badly planned volumes. A garden is, or ought to be, an integral part of civilized life, a spiritual and emotional necessity, deep rooted and profoundly felt.

Early gardens were inevitably derived from their immediate surroundings. Their function was to sustain and preserve life. Even today, this is so in the Amazon forest or in Mato Grosso. Indians settle for a while, plant corn and grow vegetables. In the forest, they find magical and medicinal plants, stimulants, fruits and roots. But their lack of gardening technique combined with the habit of burning away undergrowth forces them to move on. The immediate success of established planting efforts often depended on gods of fertility; in Hispanic America today, Saint Isidore is called upon for help: “San Isidro, labrador, quita el agua y pon el sol” [Saint Isidore the Laborer, stop the water and bring in sun]; and even in countries of Protestant religion, their conscious and Puritan peoples often ask for a blessing to make their seeds grow. Yet the ancient role of the gods has increasingly been passed on to agronomists and chemists. With their assistance, the role of today’s gardener tends to be that of cultivating plants in places where they could not possibly grow on their own. We mustn’t, however, forget the humbleness of ancient cultivators: their gardens developed, and at the same time depended on, the surrounding vegetation.

With settlements came fences, protection against an invading nature, and defense against hostile neighbors; and this has been a constant in the history of garden composition. Eighteenth- century English parks, seemingly part of the scenery, were protected

109

THE GARDEN AS ART FORM

from neighbors by distance and free of cattle and sheep thanks to “ha-ha” walls, or sunken ditches that kept them out. Spiritually, gardens were sanctuaries, sheltered from the wind, offering shade and relief for thirst and hunger. Even in the hanging gardens of Babylon, built in elevation, there was a gridded ground level. Gardens were purely architectural from the point of view of construction, although separate from residential areas and made to be contemplated from a distance. The plan of a garden at Thebes, Egypt (circa 1400 BC) was surrounded by a straight wall.

It contained four water tanks conveniently located to irrigate in two rectangular pairs, and trees planted in lines and groves; and there were vines hanging from pergolas. The design was, however, elegant, and its balance carefully studied although not symmetrical, since the house was situated neither at the center, nor even halfway along one of the walls.

Some of the plants may have been of some utility, but they posed more opportunity for contemplation when placed so close to the house. These plants gradually came to be appreciated for their appearance and offered design elements for the architecture, as well as for painting and sculpture, such as for the lotus flower or the acanthus leaf.

The first public gardens were laid out by the Greeks.

They were a sociable people with strong communal feelings and a love of discussion. From conversation in the street they went on to the marketplace, which they started to landscape in order to make a better use of space. Their origin was the sacred grove, always dedicated to a myth. In the case of the Academy, it was that of the hero Academus, in whose honor games were held that required training, which was undertaken in the woods. This consequently provided a spectacle.

The building of covered walkways and baths followed; then came statues of victors, and all this led to a type of garden that, in essence, continues to exist today —based on the needs of a society, adapted to urban surroundings and landscapes—in a smooth, unhurried and rational course of development where function produces aesthetic standards.

The Romans were better gardeners than the Greeks, and they enjoyed more favorable natural conditions.

Note that the Roman deities Flora and Pomona had no counterpart in Greek mythology. They borrowed characteristics from Greek gardens: woods, lakes and colonnades, adapting them to urban gardens, more introspective, enclosed, and intimate. In these cases, gardens were often merely suggested in painting.

They then developed a countryside garden, which, although basically consisting of an extension of the house, included a view of the landscape. It was still a refuge-garden, but unlike Islamic gardens (which faced away from the landscape, rejecting it completely,

Rhythm is not repetition but a matter of how one form relates to another, or how one place, texture, surface, or color relates to another. Plants must be interrelated.

They may also be interrelated botanically in a garden.

The garden will be a constantly changing entity, but if it contains its own rationale, if all its parts are interrelated, then there will always be harmony.

In some ways, we are fighting a defensive battle.

A landscape architect should try to prevent destruction of the natural environment where it still exists; and, at the same time, create new landscapes with echoes of their original natural context, so as to build and conserve an artistic legacy worthy of those who will come later.

Sometimes there is no model to be taken from an untouched nature. A garden should be cohesive and

self-contained; if it cannot include the landscape, it had better reflect the environment in which it is born.

Very few people will have the privilege of encountering an unspoiled nature. Few will feel the anticipation of a forest at sunrise, or the vast silence of mountains or tundra, where man just passes by. There one finds peace that surpasses all understanding; peace that man is gradually eliminating from the face of the earth. We shall never again find the peace of Eden, but we can try to get closer to it by creating restful and uplifting environments. It is not easy work. There will always be people ready to undermine or divert our purpose. If, however, as each day goes by, at least one person pauses, for a moment, to look out and feel rewarded, our effort will not have been in vain.

Opposite top: study on carnival, Theatro Municipal do Rio de Janeiro, 1960s.

Graphite, gouache and collage on paper, 71 x 104,5 cm. Sítio Roberto Burle Marx, IPHAN/MinC. Below: stage design for carnival, Theatro Municipal do Rio de Janeiro, 1960s.

Graphite, gouache and collage on paper, 70,2 x 100 cm. Sítio Roberto Burle Marx, IPHAN/MinC.

126

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

127

THE GARDEN AS ART FORM

132

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

Plan of the Largo da Carioca gardens, Rio de Janeiro, 1981. Gouache, 98 x 102 cm.

Burle Marx & Cia. Ltda, Rio de Janeiro.

133

THE GARDEN AS ART FORM

Garden plan of the Walther Moreira Salles residence (today: Instituto Moreira Salles), Rio de Janeiro, 1951.

Gouache, 95 x 123 cm. Burle Marx & Cia. Ltda, Rio de Janeiro.

134

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

Plan for the mineral garden on the roof of Banca Safra, Avenida Paulista, S達o Paulo, 1983.

Architect Mauricio Kogan. Gouache, 81 x 99,5 cm. Burle Marx & Cia. Ltda, Rio de Janeiro.

135

THE GARDEN AS ART FORM

Gardens of the Itamaraty Palace Ministry of Foreign Affairs BrasĂ­lia, 1965 Architect: Oscar Nimeyer Surface area of the outdoor garden: 16,000 m2

Banco Safra Headquarters on Avenida Paulista, S達o Paulo S達o Paulo, 1983 Floor surfaces, roof garden, mural Architect: Mauricio Kopan Surface area: Hall 1,700 m2, Roof-terrace 1,200 m2 Mural: 7 x 18 m

193

216

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

217

landscape architecture in the city

Project for Biscayne Boulevard, Miami, 1988.

Hard copy. Burle Marx & Cia. Ltda, Rio de Janeiro.

218

ROBERTO BURLE MARX

219

landscape architecture in the city

Gardens of the Ministry of Education and Health Rio de Janeiro, 1938 Architects: LĂşcio Costa, Carlos LeĂŁo, Jorge Machado Moreira, Oscar Niemeyer, Affonso Eduardo Reidy, Ernani Vasconcellos Consultant architect: Le Corbusier Garden surface on ground floor level: 8,462 m2 Roof garden on exhibition wing: 1,243 m2 Roof garden on main building: 1,446 m2

241

Avenida Atl창ntica, Copacabana Rio de Janeiro, 1970 4 km long

247

Gardens of the Superquadra 308 Brasília, 1960s Master plan: Lúcio Costa Architects: Marcello Campello and Sérgio Rocha

263

298

299

Heliconia burle-marxii, botanical illustration by Margaret Mee (1909-1988), December 1970.

Watercolor on Fabriano paper, 66 x 48 cm. SĂ­tio Roberto Burle Marx, IPHAN/MinC.

Plant Alphabet 53 plant species linked to the work of Roberto Burle Marx or named after him in recognition of his work as botanist, either for having collected them or described them.

> Aechmea alopecurus, Mez emend. Pereira & Leme > Aechmea burle-marxii, E. Pereira > Aechmea correia-araujoi, Pereira & Moutinho > Aechmea flavo-rosea, E. Pereira > Aechmea grazielae, Martinelli & Leme > Anthurium augustinum, C. Koch > Anthurium burle-marxii, G. M. Barroso > Barbacenia burle-marxii, L. B. Smith & E. S. Ayensu > Begonia burle-marxii, Brade > Billbergia amoena, (Lod.) Lindley var. robertiana, Pereira & Leme > Burlemarxia pungens, Menezes & Semir > Burlemarxia rodriguesii, Menezes & Semir > Burlemarxia spiralis, (L. B. Smith & Ayensu) Menezes & Semir, comb. nov. > Calathea burle-marxii, Kennedy > Calathea burle-marxii, H. Kennedy “ Ice Blue” > Calathea burle-marxii, H. Kennedy “ Snow Cone” > Calathea fatimae, H. Kennedy (ined) > Cleine spinosa, Hugh lltis > Ctenanthe burle-marxii, var. obscura Kennedy > Ctenanthe burle-marxii, Kennedy > Cryptanthus burle-marxii, Leme > Distictella reticulata, A. Gentry, sp. nov. > Dyckia burle-marxii, Smith & Read > Dyckia excelsa, Leme > Encyclia burle-marxii, Pabst > Heliconia adeliana, L. Emygdio & Em. Santos > Heliconia aemygdiana, R. Burle Marx

321

plant alphabet

> Heliconia hirsuta burle-marxii, L. Emygdio > Heliconia marie augustae, L. Emygdio & Em. Santos > Hohenbergia burle-marxii, Leme & Till > Hohenbergia lanata, Pereira & Moutinho > Mandevilla burle-marxii, Markgraf > Merianthera burle-marxii, Wurdach > Neoglaziona burle-marxii, Leme > Neoregelia burle-marxii, Leme > Neoregelia elmoriana, Luther > Ortophytum burle-marxii, Smith & Read > Ortophytum burle-marxii, var. seabrae Rauh > Ortophytum lymanianum, Pereira & Penna > Ortophytum mello-barretoi, Smith > Philodendron burle-marxii, G. M. Barroso > Philodendron grazielae, Bunt, sp. nov. > Philodendron mello-barretoanum, R. Burle Marx & G. M. Barroso > Philodendron pulchrum, G. M. Barroso > Pitcairnia burle-marxii, Braga & Sucre > Pleurostima burle-marxii, (Smith & Ayensu) N. L. de Menezes > Pleurostima fanni, Menezes > Pleurostima piqueteana, N. Menezes & Mello Silva (ined) > Pontederia burle-marxii, Mello Barreto > Vellozia burle-marxii, L. B. Smith & E. S. Ayensu > Vriesia burle-marxii, Leme > Vriesia correiaaraujoi, Pereira & Penna > Xerophyta plicata, Spreng var. nov.