“Cute as a button” is an old adage that has been tossed around for decades, but are buttons particularly cute? Perhaps not, but Lucas Campodónico and Rocío González have been seeing buttons – discarded buttons – in ways most people would not dream of.

Together, they created Greca in 2008, a sustainable design company that creates accessories and objects from discarded buttons and the resin surplus of the industrial production. Buttons start to look rather cute when seen inside the resin of bracelets, necklaces, rings, flowerpots, clocks, lamps and miscellaneous objects such as decorative elephants and frogs.

The project officially began in 2008, but Campodónico and a childhood friend planted the seed that would grow to become Greca in 2005 when they started making necklaces with buttons. Those necklaces garnered a fair amount of attention, at least from family members, who began to make requests for more. Soon after, they received an offer from Juana de Arco, an Argentine clothing brand, to design a collection for Fashion Week. This gave them the confidence to start marketing what they were creating, but the project was still rather disorganized and lacked long-term goals.

Then Campodónico gained access to a button factory and became inspired by the large amount of industrial waste he saw there.

“It was a mixture of common sense, opportunity and necessity,” he said. “I could not understand that all of it was all rubbish that could be usable for other purposes. I started to do anything with those buttons and started researching the subject. I realized what was going on in that factory was not a rarity, but a phenomenon repeated in each factory,” he said.

González later joined Campodónico and they set about turning the hobby into a serious eco-design brand.

As far as the aesthetics of the designs, Campodónico denied that there is a definite trend. Rather, he attributed the designs to the experiences and knowledge of the people involved with Greca.

He noted that they do face some challenges in the design process that other artists are not susceptible to.

“There are limitations of our raw materials to the design,” he explained. “Designers usually think of a design and then analyse which is the best material to use. Our path is reversed. First there is the material and then we think of what we can make with it.”

It may be a bit more challenging, but the use of recycled materials and the wellbeing of the environment matter to Greca. It is important to them to show and teach that it is possible to work in a friendly manner with the environment and that many of the materials commonly thought of as rubbish can be transformed in to works of art.

Greca’s clientele usually have an affinity for design and the environment. Clients also have high-purchasing power because eco-design tends to be relatively expensive because of the low-scale production and care that is invested in each piece.

Nevertheless, Greca is growing, boasting vendors in California and Oklahoma in the United States; Spain; New Zealand; Chile and of course Argentina.

Yet Campodónico said that Greca’s products are designed for them.

“We like to do what gives us pleasure. Often we make products that we like but they do not sell. We believe that the pleasure of doing what one wants is a great privilege, but we realize that to do this, we have to work very hard,” he explained.

He realizes that the brand has a long way to go before it reaches the full potential of their vision. He said, “Our goal is to grow without ceasing to be children. We believe it’s possible for a company to achieve a balance of adapting to the competitive market without losing the love for what it does.”

Lead image: ‘Button Frog’ by Greca

Oviedo, a city in northern Spain, is a place far removed from Buenos Aires.

Likewise, sitting in Bar Oviedo in Mataderos feels worlds away from Capital Federal, with its high-rise buildings and honking taxis.

On a Sunday or holiday afternoon, Bar Oviedo, located on the corner of Lisandro de la Torre and Avenida de los Corrales, is at the epicentre of the pulsating Mataderos feria.

The bustling corner and the neighbouring streets are saturated in gaucho (Argentine cowboy) culture. There are street grills laden with sausage for choripán crisping nicely, brightly costumed locals dancing zambas (folk dances), and countless stalls of artisanal food and crafts.

As if there was not enough meat grilling outside already, people of all ages have flocked inside to Bar Oviedo, filling its rows of simple wooden tables and chairs, just as they have for over one hundred years. There are even people waiting to sit down.

The café has three French-windowed, double-doored entrances and a long wooden counter where a line of people stand waiting to pay for takeaway choripán, which is grilling outside. Painted wood panelling wraps around the mustard-coloured walls and windowed cabinets flank a large mirror engraved with the café’s name and likeness.

The year of the building’s construction, 1900, is also engraved on the mirror. The building used to be Café Oviedo, belonging to the Blanco family for 40 years. Before that time, it was a grocery store that catered to the slaughterhouse workers (Mataderos means slaughterhouses, in homage to the area’s cattle-slaughtering heritage), which then became a meeting place for those workers. It was called Bar de los Payadores. because some of the best payadores (folk singers) of that time, such as Betinotti and Gabino Ezeiza, would meet there.

Now the building belongs to Hector Aventuroso.

Aventuroso, with an Indiana Jones-style hat shading his eyes, looks like a gaucho himself. He says the café is “a very emblematic place”.

There is no need to look out the windows at the tableau of the feria to gain a sense of what he means. From the menu down to the framed photo of Carlos Gardel on the wall, the place feels worthy of its cultural recognition.

The menu features Argentine staples such as locro ($12), matambre casero ($14), lengua a la vinagreta ($10), choripán ($8) and dulce de leche panqueques ($5) and there are paper towels for napkins. The prices are clearly endearing and Aventuroso points out the fact that the homemade empanadas and chorizo are made from 80-year-old recipes.

If a round of gin and a game of billiards is more to your liking, Bar Oviedo boasts one of the oldest billiards tables in Buenos Aires, dating back to 1920.

Although, if you visit on a Sunday or a holiday, there is more than enough entertainment and people-watching outside. The unique mix of gauchos, porteños and tourists in a setting that feels unmistakably South American is worth a trip to Mataderos.

Bar Oviedo is open from 6am to 8pm seven days a week. For more information, call 4687-8690.

For this installment of BA Lives, The Argentina Independent spoke with Linda Neilson, the Scottish owner of ‘Galeria Mar Dulce’ – one of the newest art galleries in Palermo Soho.

Before coming to Buenos Aires, Linda received her Master’s degree in Cultural Policy at the University of Warwick in England. After working as a ‘cultural development official’ for the Scottish government, Linda moved to Valencia, Spain to try to establish herself as an art professional. In 2006, Linda and her husband, Ral Veroni – an Argentine artist – decided to move to Buenos Aires. She has been managing Galeria Mar Dulce since its opening in summer 2010.

How did you like living in Valencia?

It’s a beautiful city, but my husband and I find it very protectionist there. There’s a lot of bureaucracy in starting up a business there. It was a really lovely place to go and to live, but for long term prospects… I was teaching English there, which is fine, but it’s not my profession. So we moved over here four years ago.

Do you like it?

Yeah, I love it here. I really love it.

How does the art scene in Buenos Aires compare to Scotland’s?

It’s very different. In Britain the arts receive a lot of help from the local authorities. I was a local authority officer in Glasgow for a number of years. Most of the art organizations receive 80 percent of the running costs from sponsorship from the local authorities and the arts councils. But it was very interesting: when I moved here I found out that the arts organizations get no funding from the state. It’s really just up to the art galleries. But still there really is a vibrant scene. There’s a lot going on and there’s a lot of energy.

I really enjoy the sense of community here. If you have an exhibition and you don’t have any money, perhaps someone will help you framing your work, someone will do your catalog, someone will come and take photos of the exhibition for you. You manage everything among your friends and that’s how things happen. After opening up this gallery I’ve found that other galleries have been my supporters, although technically they’re my competition. They told me where to find the lighting, told me where to find the lettering for the windows.”

What is the story behind the opening of your gallery, Galeria Mar Dulce?

I was working for a photography gallery, and that was a great experience. But the owner shut that down in December for personal reasons. And at the time I had a six-month-old baby, and I was thinking: “What are we going to do now?” It was just not the time you want to lose your job.

But our friends, Alfonso and Marian – the owners of this place – this, in fact, used to be their house. The main gallery area used to be their living room. The fireplace here still works. We even had dinner here years ago. Alfonso and Marian moved out a couple of years ago and converted this place into a designer handbag shop, which went out of business.

And then Alfonso and Marian came up with this romantic idea of opening up a gallery. I was ready to do it. It coincided with the loss of my photography job. They invited my husband and me to open up a space here. It may not be the best time to start a new venture when you’ve got a six-month old baby, but it was one of those opportunities that was too good to say no to.

How did you come up with the name ‘Galeria Mar Dulce’?

On one of my trips to Colonia – I grew up in a small town so to go from a big city to wide open spaces like in Colonia is fantastic – but a friend there told me that Rio La Plata used to be called Mar Dulce – ‘sweet sea’. And that sort of stuck with me and gave me this idea of working with artists on both sides of the river and displaying their art here

I read on your website that you studied art. Do you still draw now?

I tried to draw when I was pregnant, but I hadn’t drawn in so long that the drawings were really awful. And I sort of gave up. For some reason, this urge to draw and create left me. To be an artist you have to have the urge – it’s almost an illness. I mean, being an artist isn’t something that I would necessarily choose to do. But I get a lot more satisfaction from organizing exhibitions. That shift really took place when I went from art school to working on my masters in cultural policy, where I learned I really loved the organizational aspect of art.

You have a family now. Could you tell us more about them?

My husband works as a full-time artist. Well, and father. We look after our daughter between the two of us. So when she’s not with me, she’s with him.

How old is she?

She’s 14 months old.

Has she taken to drawing yet?

Not yet, but she likes to draw all over the walls from time to time. My husband and I like to think that she’ll become something completely different from us, like an accountant or something. But, no, we can already tell that won’t be the case.

Galeria Mar Dulce is located at Uriarte 1490 in Palermo Soho and is open Mondays to Fridays from 3pm to 8pm and Saturdays from 11am to 2pm and 3pm to 8pm. You can find their website at http://galeriamardulce.blogspot.com/

The trope of the Western traveller heading east in search of spiritual enlightenment is nothing new: the perceived simplicity of ancient traditions like Hinduism and Buddhism can seem like the perfect antidote to the material excesses of modern life.

But while these mystic quests can be used to justify an expensive trip to an Indian ashram (like the one Elisabeth Gilbert takes in the hit memoir-turned-Julia-Roberts-movie ‘Eat, Pray, Love’), these days one can find opportunities for spiritual awakening a little closer to home.

One such place is Eco Yoga Park, a yoga and meditation retreat outside of General Rodriguez, about two hours from Buenos Aires via colectivo, run by adherents of Vaishnava Hinduism, popularly known as “Hare Krishnas”. The park is one of more than 2000 yoga centres, institutes and vegetarian restaurants that make up The Superior Institute for Vedic Studies (ISEV), an umbrella organisation based in India meant to promote the country’s rich culture and Vaishnava practices.

Tourists and porteños alike can find relief from the urban chaos of la capital in this eco village and hostel for a few days or a few months at a time, as long as they are willing to renounce certain creature comforts and full plumbing systems, and endure the occasional, gentle explanation of Vaishnava philosophies.

A Rustic Retreat

Arriving at Eco Yoga Park via a rocky, unpaved road that cuts through provincial farmlands, one is hardly reminded of the sublime beauty of the natural world. Flat fields of vegetables and cows being tended to largely by Bolivian migrants surround the park, and in the cold, muddy Argentine winter, the setting is almost bleak. (But perhaps the mind more easily embarks on an inner journey when there is less to look at.)

The park itself is a collection of small buildings made of wood and stone, nestled next to a modest vegetable farm and an impressive, conspicuous white dome, which serves as a temple. The basic accommodations include bunk-style lodging, dry “green” toilets, and no heating or air conditioning, which was difficult to endure in the winter, despite the extra blankets.

Guests split their time between practising yoga, meditating, and eating delicious vegetarian food. The first meditation is offered at 5am in the white dome, where the half a dozen ‘permanent’ residents of the park practice their morning prayers and change the clothing of the figurines of the god Vishnu placed on the temple’s altar. Paying guests are invited but not required to come to this early event.

Different teachers lead mid-morning hatha yoga each day. These classes offer a slow, serene yoga practice, focusing on holding poses for extended periods of time and emphasising balance and endurance over agility and brute strength. The sessions end in singing the Hare Krishna mantra, which basically consists of repeating the words “Hare”, “Krishna” and “Rama” in different orders – all names for incarnations of the religion’s main god, Vishnu.  By the end of the weekend I found myself involuntarily humming the tune.

Afternoon music therapy takes place in the temple, with the park’s permanent residents leading cheery worship songs in front of the altar on guitar and drums. With the chilled out hippie vibe, I could almost forget that I was sitting in a place of worship, participating in a religious ritual.

Pre-dinner meditation incorporates some gentler yoga – more focused on stretching than strength – and features more direct lectures on Hare Krishna doctrine, including readings from religious texts. Depending on one’s level of Spanish, these can be easy to tune out (the teachers do offer translations in English, for those who are interested).

Vegetarian Grub to Chant “Om” For

One of the main tenets of Hare Krishna belief is vegetarian eating. Very little dairy is used, and alcohol, eggs, and caffeine are forbidden, along with garlic and onions, which are thought to inspire unsavoury passion. But despite these restrictions, the park’s food is delectable (as long as you like whole grains and beets), providing a needed break from the bland porteño diet.

“I loved all of it, specifically the wrap was great and the chocolate desert balls,” said Lauren Storella, an American who was taking a break from her English teaching job in the city. “It was very nutritious, like I was feeding my body what it needed, not like I was eating simply because I was hungry.

The daily menus blend traditional Indian spices and dishes like sabji and chapatti bread with influences from South American vegetarian cuisine. Fruit-based cakes are served for desert, and seconds are encouraged.

Sustainability is also a priority at Eco Yoga Park: In May-September, 50-70% of the food served comes directly from the park’s farm (which guests can join a volunteer program to work on), with the rest coming from local markets. In October-April, that number rises to 80-100%.

A Voyage Into the Mystic

Though the park has been open since 1997, it has seen a marked increase in tourists in the last 2 or 3 years, according to director Thakur Das, who has lived there since 2005.

“There is more interest in alternative lifestyles, organic agriculture, ecotourism,” Das said. “There are people who come because… they are looking for a yoga retreat, they are looking to experience an alternative, sustainable lifestyle. They want to do organic farming. There are people who want to travel, but in a more conscientious way.”

Das said that the goal of the park is not to convert people to Hare Krishna-ism, but rather to expose them to the positive aspects of their way of life.

“I want people to develop an interest in alternative lifestyles, to live in contact with nature, to eat healthfully, to practice yoga and meditation, to be in contact with people who are seriously spiritual and to see that these are people who are really happy,” he said. “If they develop an interest in the way of life, we’re happy. But only to improve someone’s consciousness—their quality of life—for us, that’s the project.”

Eco Yoga Park’s association with the Hindu sect is not mentioned anywhere on its website, its blog, or the fliers it passes out in hostels. After talking to more than half a dozen guests and volunteers, the few who had known prior to arriving that the park was run by Hare Krishnas had heard through friends.

According to Swami Giri, national director of ISEVAR, not mentioning the park’s religious affiliation is intentional.

“In reality if we put that we are Hare Krishna, there will be people who think that ‘I’m not Hare Krishna, I can’t go’,” Giri said. “Simply, we don’t put it, so that if someone wants to participate, they have the chance to partake and get to know the practice. The goal of the park is to share. If someone does not have a religion or a culture, and wants to know about ours, they are welcome.”

Most guests I spoke with did not find the religious element oppressive.

“I found it interesting to begin to learn bits about a different way of life and a philosophy that I know very little about,” said Gemma Grass-Orkin, a writer from London who is currently living in Buenos Aires. “This religious aspect neither enhanced or detracted from my experience, it was an essential part of it. The only point at which I felt uncomfortable was when a yoga teacher made a generalisation about city-dwellers, saying they were crazy/loco and violent people. Of course it’s true to an extent, but it’s not very healthy or positive to stereotype like that in my opinion.”

Said Storella, “I never felt pressured or uncomfortable at all.  I truly felt like their main goal…was to provide a relaxing, beautiful weekend for us which is what we came for…not to try to recruit us.”

For more information, visit www.ecoyogapark.com. Depending on length of stay, daily rates are US$28-33 for the yoga/meditation retreat depending, which includes yoga, meditation, 3 vegetarian/vegan meals and 1 snack a day, a nightly film, and access to an extensive library of books on Hinduism, Vaishnava philosophy, and hatha yoga. Tourists can also join the volunteer program, which includes all of the aforementioned food and activities, but requires 4.5 hours of work 6 days a week, usually in the form of helping out on the farm, construction and preparing meals. This second program costs US$12-15/day, depending on length of stay.