Thursday, February 25, 2016

Bellas Artes

Living in one of Mexico City’s suburbs, if you even can call them that given the hey are now in the middle of the sprawling city, my life always revolved around nearby places and neighborhoods. Rarely did we venture into the touristy sites of the city. While people who visit tend to go to all the most recognizable areas - Polanco, El Centro Historico, Teotihuacan, Xochimilco, Chapultepec - I just remember going to these places in school trips when I was smaller. They all seemed so mundane and normal, having them in your backyard can sometimes mean you don’t appreciate what you have as much. 

Xochimilco
Castillo De Chapultepec
I imagine this happens to everyone. If you grew up next to the Great Wall of China, to you it might be just a wall that you see everyday. But for someone who travelled across the globe to see it, they might be in awe and appreciate the structure for what it is and what it stands. This its exactly the situation I was in, and so are most people around me. 

This all changed as my love and interest for architecture began to grow. I began to realize just how unique all of these places are, and how lucky I was to have them be in my backyard. I started reading more about these places and what made them so special. The more I read the more I realized how rich Mexico’s history is, and how little we know about the places we live in. 

My latest example of this lack of knowledge is one of Mexico City’s most well known buildings: El Palacio Bellas Artes. Originally called the National Theatre, this building stands in the center of the city, and if you google the city, you’ll find its picture is the first one to come up. Everyone in town knows what it looks like and where it is, but no one seemed to know the meaning and story behind it. 
National Theatre Under Construction in 1918

Palacio de Bellas Artes 2016
Turns out Bellas Artes was built in the 1910, at a moment when Mexico, under Porfirio Diaz, began to worry about it’s international image. Most civic buildings were being built in neoclassical styles, and their main purpose was to showcase how Mexico was part of the first-world countries. This of course was just a farce, as almost everything about these buildings was imported, engineers, architects and sculptures and even materials were imported, the only thing truly Mexican was for the cheap labor. 

The Neo-classical Banco de Mexico Building

Mixing neo-Barroque Classicism with organic details similar to those in the beaux-arts movement, the National Theatre was designed by Italian architect Adamo Boari, and was finished by Mexican architect Federico Marshal in 1934, after the Revolution halted construction. With its art-deco interiors and lavish facade, the National Theatre stood as a symbol of economic and artistic prosperity in Mexico. 

The importance of this building was tremendous, it showed that Mexico was able to be a top-tier country, whose artistic values were in par with those of more advanced countries such as France, England and the US. The rationale behind the construction of this structure was to show how stable our county was, given that no country in turmoil is building shrines for its artistic endeavors. Of course this wasn’t true, as the construction was halted by the Revolution, so the symbolism behind the building was just a ruse to boost Mexico’s image, with no correlation with the economic and social mayhem happening at the time. 
Alameda Central
Now a days, El Palacio de Bellas Artes stands in the east corner of the Alameda Central (the main park in the center of the city), and it is a staple of Mexican architecture and the importance of the arts in our culture. I visit it regularly, as my friends and I love to go to nearby bars and then head to the park. However, as pretty and monumental as it is, knowing its history and the fact that there is very little “Mexican” in it,has made me skeptical of it’s symbolism. I wonder how would people look at it once they know it’s barely even ours. 

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Juan O’Gorman - Diego Rivera / Frida Kahlo Studios

As I have mentioned before, my house is located in the modernist (semi-) urban neighborhood of El Pedregal. While the houses in my street and around the block are mostly modernist works by the likes of Luis Barragan and Francisco Artigas, there was one structure not too far away that always caught my eye. In the nearby neighborhood of San Angel, a historical site known for it’s colonial churches and it’s stone and gravel streets, there is one “house” that looks like none other. 

The house I am talking about is Juan O’Gorman’s studio for the renowned Mexican painter Frida Kahlo and Muralist Diego Rivera.

View from the Main Avenue

Side entrance & Outdoor stair

Exterior Bridge
Located in the main avenue of the neighborhood, pedestrians and drivers alike would always look at it in wonder. It’s geometrical forms, outer bridges, oversized glass panels, outdoor terraces, industrial feel, and fence of cacti, all add up to create the most unique and distinguished building in the southern part of Mexico City. It’s presence is quite shocking. 

Inspired by the Russian Constructivists, O’Gorman’s work ties their ideals about geometry and the disruption of context with the Mexican regionalist ideals of materiality, colors, outdoor/indoor spaces. The outer facades are all painted in “Indian” red and deep blue, recalling both the tezontle (volcanic soil) traditional to Mexico City as well as the color of dried blood (symbolizing the indigenous massacre by the conquistadors). The blue was the same as the one used in Frida Kahlo’s home in the nearby neighborhood of Coyoacan. These traditional vernacular colors utilized in the exterior facades related to the architecture of the place. The exterior can be read a rational system of concrete frame and waffle slab, where walls are infilled between the frame. The glazing consisted of steel industrialized windows that formed a mosaic-like pattern. The addition of outdoor stairs, bridges and terraces further roots the house into the site, creating a circulation path that constantly interacts with the outside elements. 

Constructivist Architecture
In the inside, the architecture changed quite drastically, as yellow and parrot green were used to create a sense of warmth. The interior rooms were expressed as distinct, separate elements with mechanical and electrical systems were exposed to portray the modernist idea of the house as a machine for living. The interior was filled with Mexican traits partially because Kahlo and Riviera collected indigenous art, creating a dichotomy between a modernist house with exposed systems and industrialized materials, and the handcrafted uniqueness of the artifacts. This reflected O’Gorman’s interest in making an architecture concerned with progress, universality, technology rationalism, and abstraction, but also an architecture that utilized vernacular Mexican colors and indigenous art to create interiors.


Interior Upper Floor
This house is an example of the different architecture styles that converge in Mexico through careful integration of ideals and forms. The final product is one that not only looks for inspiration from the outside, but that manages to bring and mix Mexican motifs to create a unique style known as Mexican Functionalism. As seen in previous posts, the constant struggle to portray or create Mexican styles in architecture and to showcase the country’s identity are always affecting the architects’s final designs. Here, O’Gorman makes the case that a rich national identity and functionalist ideals can work together to create a unified whole. 


Thursday, February 11, 2016

Parallels

Parallels

I am currently taking a class called The Great Houses of Los Angeles. Every week we talk and discuss about the ideologies behind the projects, and then during the weekend we go and experience the spaces ourselves. From this course I have learned that every project, every house, every design element has an intention, and it is up to the user to asses if the architecture is successful at portraying it. So as I learn about the history of Los Angeles, I began to draw correlations with Mexico City and especially the neighborhood I call home. 

Stahl House - Pierre Koenig - CSH #22

From 1945 to 1966, a residential experiment in Southern California known as the Case Study Program was trying to create a new type of efficient and inexpensive model home for the housing boom that came after the end of World War II. The Case Study Program commissioned major architects of the era - Neutra, Koenig, Saarinen, Quincy Jones, Charles and Ray Eames - and focused on building 36 projects mostly across the Los Angeles metro area. The impact the project had on the residential architecture of Los Angeles was immense, but it expanded beyond Southern California and even crossed over the border to Mexico City. 

Charles & Ray Eames House - CSH #8 
Using the Case Study Program as a template and inspiration, the architects in Mexico City began to plan a similar project in the outskirts of town. In 1946, the first of these urban projects was presented: Jardines del Pedregal de San Angel. This project was a subdivision of more than 1,200 lots covering about a square mile. It’s location was free from any historical events, and the land was just being developed due to the availability of roads and automobiles. This neighborhood also happens to be where I lived. 

Jardines del Pedregal Master Plan
I always wondered why was my neighborhood so different from the rest of the city, and why was it seen as a one-of-a-kind area. It is hard to asses the importance of the place when every building is private, so I hit the books to learn more about what lies behind the doors. Turns out there is a lot of history and symbolism behind it. 
Barragan House in El Pedregal
Artigas House in El Pedregal
Whereas the Case Study Program’s goal was to create an effective and modular residential typology, the Jardines del Pedregal complex tried to introduce modernist ideas to the city. The clear contrast of approaches between the two main architects of the project, Luis Barragan and Francisco Artigas, showcased the complex and paradoxical ideals of modernism in Mexico. Barragan’s designs were warm and serene, a more nature-focused approach. While Artigas’ houses were cold and formulaic, a more industrial and rigid approach. This dichotomy has been present in Mexican architecture ever since.  

Thursday, February 4, 2016

Annotation Sample

Guillen, M. F. (2004). MODERNISM WITHOUT MODERNITY: The Rise of Modernist Architecture in Mexico, Brazil, and Argentina, 1890-1940. Latin American Research Review, 39(2), 6-34. 

In this text , Mauro Guilen compares and contrasts the rise of modernist architecture in Mexico Brazil and Argentina. The text explores each case individually, analyzing the reasons why this architectural style was able to jump across the atlantic ocean just a few years after it gained ground in Europe. These are important questions to answer, as modernism embraced futuristic ideals and materials, and these three countries at the time were considered to be relatively backwards in their developments. Guillen looks at the roots and rise of modernist architecture in Europe, and then expands his scope to these 3 Latin American countries. Through serious and scholar prose, Guillen notes the important role of the Mexican revolution and the professionalization of architects in the rise of modernist architecture in Mexico. In the years following the revolution, the new government tried to use modernist architecture to comply with their agenda to turn Mexico into a first -world country. It was with that governmental approval that the modernist style began to be adopted throughout the country, even when Mexico lacked the material resources (glass and steel) for the high demand. The architects then began to alter modernist architecture by injecting their country’s culture, sometimes completely dismissing some of the main pillars of the style. After some years, modernism in Mexico became a different style, one that was adopted to the traditions and likes of the Mexican public. 
As the author slowly answers the central question - how can countries that lack modern economies and industries adopt a progressive style of architecture in such a short time? - his tone changes from skeptical to accepting (although always staying true to his academic style). The paper is great to understand the main reasons why and how Mexico adopted a foreign architectural style to further advance its international image.

A National Identity

A National Identity


A few years ago, my architecture friends from USC asked me to give them a tour of the City. They were just there for a layover on their way to South America, so I had one day to show them as much as possible. With nearly 21 million people living in Mexico City (and suburbs), with the total area of the city being similar to LA and Orange county added together, there was no way I could show them all the great places I think are essential. So I decided to take them to the most tourist-y spots in town: el Centro Historico, la Alameda Central and Polanco. Being architects-in-the-making themselves they were stunned when they saw a fusion of different styles and ideals through the streets we walked. They mentioned they never thought Mexico had such great architecture, and such a variance of styles. To which I just replied in a joking manner, “no one ever think about us.” Yet if you stop for a second to wonder why is that Mexico has such great architecture, the answer misquote clear: architecture is concrete evidence of our national identity, and therefor it has gone through endless phases. 

Museo Soumaya - Polanco

Parque Lincoln - Polanco

The clearest example of a search for a national identity came in the 20th century, when moderns began to flourish in Mexico,  a country whose past has always been a heavy influence in its future. In the 20th century the field of architecture began to shift towards modernism, a style that tried to break away from the past and restart with no baggage or traditions. Modernism was trying to negate and dismiss the ancient classical forms and gothic styles, to create and architecture that was looking towards the future and utilizing new techniques and materials to reflect the evolution of society. These ideals of a tabula rasa came in complete collision with those of a Mexican identity based on our rich cultural past. The architects of the 20th century in Mexico had to figure out a way to fuse these two ideals together, further highlighting the discussion about what is Mexican national identity. 

The 20th century was just an addition with Mexico’s constant struggle with defining itself through architecture. As one walks around Mexico City’s historic core, the different styles of Mexican architecture showcase the era’s different needs and ideals about Mexican identity. In one street alone, you can walk through Aztec ruins, colonial houses, neoclassical structures, baroque fountains, modernist office buildings and viceroyal monuments. These contrasting styles are the basis of Mexico’s constant struggles to define and portray itself to the world. These styles also show the one constant in Mexican architecture: destruction. 
Cathedral at Centro Historico
With every new era and style that arrived or arose in Mexico, the previous one was abolished and served as the foundation. Colonial churches were erected in the sites of old ruins of Tenichtitlan, the Modernist structures took over the sites of baroque buildings, and the newer buildings of the 21st century sprawled and conquered lands considered sacred by the Aztecs. These paradox of destroying to create along with he country’s constant rise in population, have pushed the architect’s to look for new contexts and styles to find meaning behind their national identity. 


In the following posts I’ll try to showcase the different approaches by which Mexican architects tried to define their national identity. 

Monday, February 1, 2016

How It all Started

Ciudad Universitaria 




How It All Started
The first time I remember seeing a building and thinking about the history and the possibilities behind it was when my Mom took me and my sister to play frisbee to Ciudad Universitaria (CU), which is the campus of Mexico’s National University (UNAM). This was 2001, I was just seven years old, and I don’t think I ever caught the frisbee, I was too distracted. I was looking around and all the buildings seemed to tell a story. I story I was too young and confused to understand.
 Before my Mom bailed on the whole frisbee fun and drove us back home, I asked her about the buildings. Why were these structures so different and unique? The two most recognizable buildings on campus were (and still are) the Main Library, whose exterior seemed to be a canvas for a Aztec-looking mural, and the Torre de Rectoria, which seemed to be like a traditional glass and steel building except one side was just a large concrete wall and a mural sticking out of its gut. These two fascinating buildings, along with rest of the campus’ atmosphere and architecture, have been stuck in my mind ever since.
Fast-forward 15 years to today. I am now able to understand these buildings and relate to their expressions. Turns out Ciudad Universitaria is heralded as a paradigm of modernism in Mexico. This to my was a complete shock. Modernism is an architectural style that breaks away from traditions and looks for efficiency, simplicity and cleanliness. With works such as the Le Corbusier’s Villa Savoye or Mies Van der Rohe’s Farnsworth House as paradigms modernist architecture, you can understand my initial reaction. 
 However, if you look closely, you can start to see some similarities between both types of modernist styles. The Mexican architects that worked in CU’s planning, Mario Pani and Enrique del Moral, used the basic principles of European modernism and mixed them with Mexican motifs that go against the fundamentals of the style. In the Main Library, the structure is lifted by white pilots (or columns) just like in the Villa Savoye. Similarly, in the Torre de Rectoria, the use of glass and steel as materials along with a gridded system for efficient and modular construction, are reminiscing of the Farnsworth House. 
Image result for villa savoye
Villa Savoye
 But that’s all there is for similarities. Mexico doesn’t play by the rules. 
Image result for farnsworth house
Farnsworth House
Once we have stablished the style the architects were adopting, we can better understand the meaning of their work. With modernism trying to break away from the past by using new materials and efficient techniques, Mexican architects saw it these advances as an opportunity to revive the past of the area. Ciudad Universitaria was built in a site close to the ancient historical town of Cuicuilco. The murals in both buildings are representative of both academia and the indigenous past. A fusion of the past and the furture. The area is also characterized for its lava layer six to eight meters thick which was deposited by the Xitle volcano 7,000 years ago. This volcanic rock can be seen utilized at the bottom of the main Library and on the side of the Torre de Rectorias. With these two precedents, Pani and del Moral used modernist motifs to bring back the area’s past and to remind everyone that in Mexico, the past is very much part of our present.  
Main Library
Torre de Rectoria

Hello World

Hello, World
Ever since tenth grade I knew I wanted to study architecture. I found the built environment of my hometown, Mexico City, to be fascinating. With every street having a unique mix of buildings, and each of those telling their own story, it seemed as if the city was a melting pot of individual and collective hopes and needs. I felt like buildings were the embodiment of the architect’s ideas, telling a story through materials, organization, style, location and effect.

Paseo 16 de Septiembre
How incredible is that? To be able to put our ideas and your desires into a solid object that will hopefully stand the test of time.
From tenth grade to my junior year in college, this incredible task was the main reason why I wanted to study architecture. See, I was never sure about becoming an architect, I just wanted to speak the language in order to understand all the buildings that surround me. Designing the buildings and telling my story was never my goal, I was more interested with learning the reasons behind an existing project - What was the architect thinking? Who was the ideal user of the work? What was the architect responding to? What influenced the work? These questions are better answered by an architecture historian or theorist than a practicing architect.
Today, writing as a fourth year architecture student in college (in a five-year program), I am a little hurt that none of my architecture theory or history courses has helped me answer the questions I had in tenth grade. Most of my experience with architectural history has revolved around western ideas, focused solely on Europe and the U.S., with the eventual nod to Chinese or Japanese architecture. Not once has any of my professors mentioned Latin America of Mexico. I get it, we are not in Mexico, but since they had me learn all about palaces in Austria I cannot even pronounce, I find the complete exclusion of the Latin American contribution to the world of architecture quite offensive.

Zocalo

Affect my initial response, I saw the bright side to this situation. I realized this exclusion allowed me to talk about my country’s architectural history with a fresh eye, having learned the vocabulary and the process by which other works of architecture were discussed in my classes, I could use that knowledge to embark on my own journey through the minds of some of the most famous Mexican architects and their works. As architecture is never isolated from the art world, with all the works being in direct acceptance or opposition to the ideas of the field at the time, the works analyzed will be placed not only in the spectrum of Mexican architectural history, but also in the larger context of international architectural theories happing internationally. The work explored will be understood through the description of the architectural currents of the time - Beaux-Arts, Functionalism, Regionalism, Brutalism, “Emotional” Style, Nationalism - and the traditions of the place - culture, rituals, history. With works of Barragan, Pani, Candela, Legorreta, Ramirez-Vazquez, Kalach, TEN Arquitectos, and many others, this blog will try to listen to the whispers of the architecture that makes up the streets of my country.

Camino Real - Logorreta Arquitectos