The discussion is not the project, it is the concession
Em São Paulo, a decisão de transformar uma antiga serraria do Ibirapuera em academia comercial revela uma tensão antiga entre a preservação do patrimônio público e as exigências financeiras da gestão privada. O conselho de patrimônio aprovou o projeto da concessionária Urbia apesar da resistência de moradores e gestores do parque, que enxergam na intervenção uma ruptura com a composição paisagística concebida por Roberto Burle Marx nos anos 1990. O que está em jogo não é apenas uma edificação centenária, mas a pergunta mais ampla sobre quem define o caráter de um espaço coletivo — e a que preço.
- Uma votação na segunda-feira abriu caminho para que uma academia privada ocupe um dos espaços mais contemplativos do Ibirapuera, encerrando décadas de uso livre por praticantes de yoga e tai chi.
- Críticos alertam que fechar mais da metade das baias abertas com painéis de vidro e instalar um mezanino em 86% do interior apagará a intenção original de Burle Marx, que projetou a praça em torno da permeabilidade visual e física do galpão.
- A Urbia defende que a receita gerada pelo aluguel do espaço é indispensável para financiar a restauração do parque, argumentando que preservar o edifício exige torná-lo economicamente viável.
- O diretor da concessionária sugeriu que os opositores rejeitam o modelo de concessão em si, não o projeto — uma afirmação que acirrou ainda mais o debate sobre os limites da privatização de espaços públicos.
- A decisão está tomada, mas o operador privado ainda não foi escolhido e os detalhes finais da obra seguem indefinidos, mantendo viva a disputa sobre o que o Ibirapuera pode e deve ser.
Na tarde de segunda-feira, o conselho de patrimônio de São Paulo aprovou a conversão de um galpão histórico do Ibirapuera em academia comercial, desencadeando protestos imediatos de gestores do parque e associações de moradores. A estrutura em questão é uma serraria dos anos 1930, com mais de cem metros de comprimento e teto a mais de dez metros de altura, que desde os anos 1990 integra uma praça projetada por Roberto Burle Marx. Com colunas e sem paredes, o galpão abriga quatorze baias abertas que, por décadas, serviram a praticantes de yoga, tai chi e outras atividades contemplativas.
A concessionária Urbia, que opera o parque desde 2020 sob contrato de 35 anos, quer fechar mais da metade das baias com painéis de vidro, instalar revestimento de madeira em outras duas para criar vestiários e erguer um mezanino que ocupará 86% do interior para abrigar equipamentos de ginástica. O mezanino ocultaria as tesouras de madeira do telhado — elemento arquitetônico central do espaço — e eliminaria a passagem livre de um lado ao outro da praça. Uma grua histórica de 15 toneladas seria mantida visível em uma abertura central onde ficaria a escada.
O diretor da Urbia, Samuel Lloyd, argumentou que o projeto garante a sobrevivência e a manutenção do edifício, ressaltando que a serraria antecede o próprio parque e, portanto, está fora do tombamento oficial — distinção legal que fortalece a posição da empresa. Lloyd também sugeriu que os críticos contestam o modelo de concessão, não a proposta em si.
Para os opositores, porém, o problema é mais profundo: Burle Marx não preservou o galpão como relíquia, mas o incorporou à composição como elemento vivo, cuja abertura e permeabilidade são inseparáveis do projeto. Fechar as baias e instalar o mezanino, argumentam, destrói essa intenção de forma irreversível. A decisão expõe uma tensão crescente sobre como financiar a manutenção de parques públicos em tempos de orçamentos apertados — e se a ativação comercial preserva ou consome o caráter coletivo desses espaços.
On Monday afternoon, São Paulo's heritage preservation council voted to allow a private fitness company to convert a century-old sawmill at Ibirapuera Park into a commercial gym—a decision that immediately drew sharp objections from park officials and neighborhood groups who say the project will destroy a carefully composed landscape.
The structure in question is a 1930s building, more than a hundred meters long with ceilings over ten meters high, that once housed a defunct streetcar workshop. It has stood at the park since before Ibirapuera's formal opening in the 1950s, but in the 1990s it was integrated into a plaza designed by the legendary landscape architect Roberto Burle Marx. For decades, the open-sided building—supported by columns with no walls, creating fourteen open bays—has been used by people practicing yoga, tai chi, and other meditative movement disciplines. The Urbia concession company, which operates the park under a 35-year contract awarded in 2020, argues that converting the space into a fitness facility will generate revenue for restoration and preservation work without fundamentally altering the building's character.
The council's approval came despite sustained criticism from the Ibirapuera Management Council and local associations, who contend that the project will erase the contemplative purpose of the plaza and damage the visual integrity that Burle Marx embedded into his design. The heart of their objection lies in the specific interventions Urbia proposes: closing more than half of the open bays with glass panels, installing wooden cladding on two more bays to create locker rooms, and most significantly, adding a mezzanine level that would occupy 86 percent of the building's interior to hold exercise equipment. That mezzanine would obscure the wooden roof trusses—a defining architectural feature of the space—and would eliminate the possibility of walking completely through the structure, which currently allows unobstructed passage from one side of the plaza to the other.
Urbia's director, Samuel Lloyd, defended the project during Monday's meeting by arguing that it will actually preserve the building by ensuring its continued existence and maintenance. He acknowledged that the sawmill predates the park itself, and therefore falls outside the park's official heritage designation, a legal distinction that strengthens Urbia's position. The company plans to lease the space to a private operator, who would likely charge fees for access to the gym, introducing a commercial gate to what has been an open public space. Lloyd also pushed back against critics by suggesting they are really objecting to the concession model itself rather than evaluating the specific proposal on its merits. "The discussion is not the project, it is the concession," he said. "These people are opposed to a model."
But the objections run deeper than business philosophy. One of the building's most distinctive features—a 15-ton overhead crane or bridge lift mounted near the ceiling, likely used historically to hoist streetcars or lumber—would remain visible under Urbia's plan, preserved in an 11-meter opening at the center where a staircase would be installed. Yet critics argue that even this compromise fundamentally misses the point: Burle Marx did not simply place the sawmill in the plaza as a historical artifact to be preserved in amber. He designed the plaza around the building's open structure, making the ability to move through it, to see through it, to experience the continuity of space across it, essential to the composition. Closing those bays and installing the mezzanine, they contend, erases that design intention entirely.
The vote reflects a broader tension now playing out across São Paulo's public spaces: how to fund maintenance and restoration of aging infrastructure when municipal budgets are constrained, and whether commercial activation is a legitimate tool for preservation or a capitulation that trades public character for private profit. Urbia has used this model repeatedly since taking over the park's operations, arguing that commercial ventures are necessary to finance the restoration work that keeps Ibirapuera functional. The sawmill project will now move forward, with the private operator yet to be selected and the full scope of the changes still to be finalized.
Citas Notables
The project of the sawmill does not erase the past; rather, it creates conditions for it to continue to exist in the future.— Samuel Lloyd, Urbia director
The intervention that removes the possibility of complete physical passage through the space completely disfigures Burle Marx's project.— Park critics and heritage advocates (paraphrased from council discussion)
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did the heritage council approve something that so many people objected to?
Because the building technically predates the park itself—it was there before Ibirapuera was built in the 1950s. That legal distinction gave Urbia an opening. The council could argue they weren't altering a protected heritage site, just repurposing an existing structure.
But Burle Marx designed the plaza around it, didn't he?
Exactly. That's what the critics are saying. Burle Marx didn't just leave the sawmill there by accident—he made it part of the composition. The open bays, the ability to walk through it, the way light moves through the space. All intentional. But the law doesn't always protect design intention the way it protects buildings.
So this is about money, then. Urbia needs revenue.
It's partly that. The company argues they can't maintain the park without commercial income. But it's also about what gets valued. A functioning gym generates fees. An open plaza where people do tai chi generates nothing measurable on a balance sheet.
What happens to the people who use it now?
That's the question nobody really answered. They'll either pay to use the gym or they'll go somewhere else. The space stops being public in the way it was.
And the crane—the 15-ton lift—they're keeping that visible?
They say they are. But keeping something visible isn't the same as keeping the space intact. You can see the crane through a window just as easily as you can see it in person. The experience is different.
Does this set a precedent for other parts of the park?
Almost certainly. If Urbia can do this here, they'll do it elsewhere. And other cities watching São Paulo will see it as a model. That's what worries people most.