I spent a terrific weekend in San Diego. Will report on several aspects throughout the week, starting today with what I picked up on the street.

I learned that furry foot wear is in.

As are other interesting fashion choices in sunny California

People dress regardless of season

or Century

and headgear is innovative

Some people spend their time doing Selfies ( a lot of them, truth be told,)

some engage in acrobatics

and some just try to chill

They all, however, seem to like plastic on their ships.

Lest the sunny pictures fool you – San Diego is a military town, with over 80.000 military personnel (navy and marines) in the area, and billions of $$ funding through the Department of Defense. The harbor offers museum tours on war ships, but has the real things, ready for action, there as well. I did not photograph them this time around, spent time with antique boats instead, which I will show tomorrow.

http://www.wnyc.org/story/san-diego-is-a-military-town/

In case the Bad Hombres meme still rings in your ears, here is a closer look at our neighbors to the South. Can you spot a difference? I can’t.

They walk the dogs,

they try to decipher the shopping list,

they demonstrate,

they kiss,

they do their work,

they play,

the make careful fashion choices,

They seek help,

they read,

they snack,

they talk to their neighbors,

they do the laundry,

they peddle their wares,

they send their kids to camp,

or take them for a walk,

or do some serious bonding,

They wait for the bus,

or they wait in traffic,

and above all, they, like us, are glued to their phone…..

And that was it for the foto Mexico report. On to new things next week!

To spare you Trumpsky’s pronunciation, here is a musical recap

There is not a corner of Mexico City where you don’t find a monument or a sculpture, either visible from afar, or surprising you when you turn around a corner. One of the most famous monuments is the Monumento a la Revolución (above). This towering art deco edifice is one of the largest triumphal arch in the world and took 28 years to be built. Now a mausoleum, it holds the remains of some of the Mexican Revolution’s biggest players, such as Pancho Villa and Venustiano Carranzo.

Another celebration of history can be found in the city’s larges park, Bosque de Chapultepec, which displays the Monumento a los Niños Héroes. It was built in memory of the so-called ‘niños héroes’ who defended the Castillo de Chapultepec from invading US forces in the Mexican/American war – the last surviving youngsters wrapped themselves in the flag and jumped to their death from the castle walls rather than being captured. I liked the juxtaposition of the grieving mother against the modern skyline.

Downtown around the Zócalo you can admire the Pegasus sculpture by Agustin Querol in front of Palacio de Bellas Artes,

as well as some beckoning ladies along the walls of the building.

A bit further my attention was caught by the Monumento de la Fundación de México-Tenochtitlan which alludes to a crucial aspect of Mexican history, the moment Aztec god Huitzilopochtli became apparent to a group of Aztecs. They saw an eagle eating a snake, perched atop a cactus. Inaugurated some 45 years ago, it is a reminder of Mexico’s mythology and culture, not that the youths on lunch break care.

A more modern expression can be found at business district at Paseo de la Reforma – El Caballito by Sebastián.

The geometric minimalist horse head by the famous contemporary artist is a bit jarring amongst the grey hotels and office building. But definitely more interesting than Fortuna, fittingly placed in front of the doors of the National Lottery Building nearby. 

Personally, I was taken by the various smaller sculptures found in the neighborhood where I stayed – Colonia Condesa and the adjacent Roma Norte. Outdoor decoration as seen at the cultural center Casa Lamm. 

The work below is by Jorge Marín. Wikipedia tells me that “he has been an active figure in the contemporary art world for the last 25 years. He began to sculpt ceramic in the early 1980s. Bronze has been his preferred material for the last ten years. His work often depicts horses, centaurs, garudas, children, madonnas, acrobats, along with elements such as spheres, masks, arrows, boats and scales. These concepts are consistent with recurring themes such as reflection and balance. “

His brother’s Javier Marín’s work is on display as well. He “produces gigantic severed heads of polyester resin and iron appear as if rendered in clay, a material with special significance to many cultures. They are the color of the earth, terracotta and suggest remnants or fragments of some ancient monument to unknown heroes. The forms look like they were dragged through the streets in some distant time, brutalized and left to rest and be mused upon. Shaped in the style of Spanish Baroque sculpture, these heads emit a sense of history, suggesting both strength and decay while aligning themselves in a space between time and cultures.” Or so says his website.

My favorite, though, was found at the National Autonomous University of Mexico campus. There is a sculpture park where you can wander around lava rocks and plants that are unique to this area. Huge, colorful sculptures pop out of the landscape.

Then again, you could just sit and look….

About 100 years ago I had my heart broken by someone born in Mexico who happened to be a Frida Kahlo fan. As a consequence I ignored all things Frida until I went to see her house, Casa Azul, in Coyoacán last week. Lingering bits of resentment, perhaps, colored my initial impression of her, surrounding herself with 40 dolls made all in her likeness in her bedroom. How could that not be the sign of a raving narcissist?

Ambling through the – beautiful – compound, looking at the environment she created, the pictures she hung and reading about her life history in front of the various exhibits soon replaced that assessment with a sense of shame of being so judgmental – the woman had such horrific experiences, such fragile health compromised by disease and disastrous accidents, surely the dolls where an expression of the need to live on?

Her death mask placed there by her mother, I believe. The one who was never really there for her….

Over her bed

The kitchenSculptures in the garden

Parents

I started to read up on Kahlo, and strongly urge you to check out this recent article that implies a much more complex and layered picture.

http://www.vanityfair.com/culture/1995/09/frida-kahlo-diego-rivera-art-diary

She was not well; not just in the physical sense of having survived polio, and a traffic accident that destroyed spine and pelvis; she suffered from Munchhausen Syndrome, the psychological state of attention seeking through lying around medical issues. Her childhood history predisposed her to associate pain with feeling loved. In addition she had sexual appetites matching that of her husband, in her case with an openly bisexual orientation. She lived for being photographed, not just after she’d gained a certain amount of fame and notoriety.

She was a gifted artist, a pathbreaker, in some ways, for feminist demands, and capable of immense love, first and foremost for Diego Riviera.

Her house provides lots of food for thought, including an exhibit of her clothes that points to an ingenious and defiant bit of design creativity emphasizing her body’s disfigurations rather than hiding them.

Her teeth, ravaged from a daily bottle of brandy, smoking and a diet of sugary foods, where replaced by gold dentures – and, for special occasions, some studded with diamonds. In some ways she made herself, the physical presence of herself, into works of art, with color, fabric, props, created something that could be caught on camera and thus s u r v i v e, when she knew that she wouldn’t. She died at age 47.

If you are still longing for more, here is NYT bit that links you to various publications. Attachment is in the picture,

And I cite: “In under two decades, aided by a well-regarded biography and a soapy biopic, Kahlo had undergone transformation from a compelling cult figure to a universally recognized symbol of artistic triumph and feminist struggle. Somehow along the way she also became a centerpiece of a kitsch marketing bonanza. The “Fridamania” that elevated Kahlo to near-mythic dimensions also transformed her — brooding gaze, elaborate Tehuana coiffures, signature mono-brow — into an image emblazoned on sneakers, T-shirts, tote bags, coasters, cosmetics, even tequila and beer.”

If you want to visit the famous blue house make sure you get tickets on-line well beforehand. Otherwise you’re caught in a queue. I hear that a much better selection of her art can be found in a private collection that some years back opened to the public. On my list for the next visit!

The Museum

Murals have a long tradition in Mexican art, and no Mexican muralist is better known than Diego Riviera, Diego María de la Concepción Juan Nepomuceno Estanislao de la Rivera y Barrientos Acosta y Rodríguez to be precise. The man was as large in life (or larger) as his name was long. As a committed Marxist who belonged to the Mexican Communist party, his work was a paradigm of class consciousness and social commitment.

His choice of subjects, depictions of the history of Mexico, revolutionary struggle, capitalist exploitation, and hagiography of the Soviet Union led to much controversy both inside and outside of the art world.

His art was influenced by Mexican history, both in terms of what he depicted and how he depicted it, his style deeply influenced by pre-columbian culture. European modern masters can be intuited in his work as well, and it is executed in Italian fresco style which suited one of his biggest goals: public accessibility—the opposite of what he regarded as the elitist character of paintings in galleries and museums. His murals can be found in all kinds of public buildings and universities, both in Mexico and here in the US where he helped to revive funding for public art in the 1930s (Franklin Roosevelt’s Federal Art Project of the Works Progress Administration.)

His amorous (and tortured) relationships with women, chief among them Frida Kahlo, have always appealed to the chattering classes. He must have had enormous charm and seductive powers that women who easily could have been his daughters fell for this 230 pound man. I think, though, we should concentrate on his art – the most magnificent example I photographed at the the Palacio Nacional in CDMX.

The History of Mexico is overwhelmingly large, beautiful and smart. The scenes melt into each other from the very beginnings of Mayan and Aztec culture to the arrival of the catholic church and Spanish conquistadores, to the politics of the Western powers through the world wars. You could stay and look at it for a week, and not get all the details.

History is taught to the school kids who are attentively listening

unless they’re not…..

And there are smaller murals throughout the palace, and tempting views of legislative chambers – before you know it half the day is gone.

I would like to acknowledge another important muralist as well, David Alfaro Siqueiros. Also a social realist painter, and also deeply entrenched in the communist party (he’s claimed to have participated in an assassination attempt on Troztky and his entourage) he developed his own style, seen here in murals from the Autonomous University of Mexico. Wikipedia tells me that Siqueiros participated in the first ever Mexican contingent at the XXV Venice Biennale exhibition with Orozco, Rivera and Tamayo in 1950, and he received the second prize for all exhibitors, which recognized the international status of Mexican art.

now a world heritage site

Here is a good summary https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2013/jun/29/mexican-modernism-politics-paint-rivera

I sought their graves in one of Mexico City’s largest cemeteries, walking by guards who were deeply ensconced in a game of dice and seemingly stoned out of their heads to judge by the smell of the surrounding clouds. Unfortunately that did not keep one of them from running after me and yelling, once he discovered I was taking photographs of the “Rotonda de las Personas Ilustres” at the Panteón Civil de Dolores. 

I had gotten a couple of shots and was on my way to explore the whole place only to be shushed back to where I came from. But here are Riviera and Siqueiros, respectively.

May they rest in peace.

The very core of Mexico City is a sight to behold. The Plaza de la Constitución, more commonly know as the Zócalo, is one of the largest urban plazas in the world, the political, commercial and religious center of the city since Aztec times. The square is surrounded by governmental buildings, including the Palacio Nacional, which covers the entire East side of the plaza. Once the location of Montezuma’s place, it now houses the president’s office.

The plaza offers its best view, including all the construction, from above – seen here from the terrace of the Hotel Majestic, a good place for breakfast or drinks if faded glamour is your thing. Historical photographs adorn the walls there, showing how much or how little, as a matter of fact, has changed.

You can hear the chanting of demonstrators faintly in the distance. The Zócalo is frequent goal of political demonstrations in front of the government buildings. Last week it was the Electrician’s union, accompanied by plenty of police.

The North side of the square is occupied by the Cathedral Metropolitana, a monstrous building of baroque splendor, started in 1573 with stones from the Aztec Temple Major.

The main seat of Mexican Catholicism is oppressively huge (109m long, 59m wide and 65m high) and, inside, a vision of gold on gold. I counted 16 chapels devoted to different saints. One can only imagine what the overwhelming sensory experience must have been for poor peasants and merchants coming into this church, navigating through the vastness of the architecture surrounding them. Every stone breathes power, every gold leaf emanates seduction and the promise of a (better) after-life hangs in the air just like the smell of frankincense coming from the thuribles. No coincidence, surely, that the altar that you see first after entering is called the Altar of Forgiveness and the other one is called the Altar of Kings (nicknamed the golden cave….).

You can buy trinkets that presumably as token of appreciations or pleas for added assistance.

The cathedral and surrounding buildings were badly damaged in the 1985 earthquake, but are now partially restored.

The church has, of course, meddled in politics, but people have also brought politics to the church. What was the “Leftist and gay mafia” thinking??? http://catholicmonitor.blogspot.com/2007/12/leftist-and-gay-mafia-vanguard-attack.html

Maintenance work extends to halos…..

I was unable to catch visually how crooked the church is due to the slow sinking into the unstable lake bed. When 20 million people draw water, the water table sinks dragging the buildings above with it; unfortunately the cathedral is sinking unevenly, and major efforts to stabilize it are underway by filling underground shafts with concrete which has to some extent corrected the tilting of the towers.

I did, however, get to photograph an impressive public art installation right in front of the Sacristy. Mascaró’s work was a breath of fresh air after the Baroque, Renaissance and Neo-classical mix next to it.

And, of course, vendors are everywhere, as are unionized organ grinders whose organs came from Berlin of all places, sent in the 19th century by the German government as a gift to strong-man ruler Porfirio Diaz.

Close by are two sugary concoctions: the Palacio de Bellas Artes, which looks like a wedding cake (and was one of Maria Callas’ favorite stages,)

and the Pasteleria Ideal which offers wedding cakes – and a surreal assortment of any other cake or pastry imaginable, across two floors, several rooms each.

Snack, anyone?

I had an extraordinary week in Mexico City, a place I had never seen before; I figured it would be fun for me to re-live the trip in the next several blogs – and fun for you to experience it vicariously without having to leave your comfortable couch (or wherever else you do the day’s reading.)

Let me start with a general description of experiencing the city and some facts or interest. Later I will devote time to individual sites I saw, things I learned, and thoughts that still linger.

When you arrive by plane on a day without smog you can see the vastness of CDMX (Ciudad Mexico) – estimates are that the city holds between 21 and 25 million people. The city, founded in 1325 by the Mexica people, now has 16 districts which are divided into smaller neighborhoods, known as colonias; it was built on the unstable lake-bed of lake Texcoco, is surrounded by volcanos and seismically unstable (the last big earthquake was 8.1 on the Richter scale in 1985) and it shows:

the sidewalks are to be navigated with caution and buildings a listing in a way that occasionally makes you hold your breath.

My first impression was that the city is unbelievably green – trees line the streets almost everywhere and parks, small neighborhood ones and large municipal ones, are ubiquitous.

The subtropical climate helps – the location is tropical but the high altitude (7300 feet) moderates the heat. Many of the commonly found trees are scented – the wax leaf privet my favorite – add that to the smell of juice vendors’ carts and the food stands at every corner and you have sweet scents mingling, making CDMX one of the best smelling places I’ve ever visited.  And people DO like to snack…

The enticing smell is not only good, but also surprising given that there is only semi- organized garbage removal. Private garbage cans do not exist – people wait until they hear the collection trucks coming and bring out their bags, or hang them in visible places or rely on the hundreds of street sweepers that are in the employ of the city.

Or you just leave it all in the middle of a church.

The other sensory experience – waves, ripples, oceans of color –  was even more intense. The photographs will speak for themselves.

Public transportation holds the city together; it is cheap, efficient and clean. Subways have a front car for women and children only in case you are into that; they also have symbols painted in each car next to the words naming the stations and transfer points for all the people who are unable to read. Many middle class people have never ridden the subway, since cabs and Uber are insanely cheap as well. You pay around US$5 for a 35 minute ride.

Or you could bike. On Sundays they even close entire traffic arteries that cross large parts of the city and open them for bikers.

The gap between rich and poor is as visible as in most large urban centers, but there is so much police presence in the historic center and other areas frequented by tourists that you see few homeless.

That changes when you explore areas off the touristy path.

The political situation is complex – on the one hand there are progressive victories in legislation about abortion, no-fault divorce and same-sex marriage, surprising in a traditionally religious, strictly catholic country. On the other hand there is a government that is intricately linked with capitalist interests https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2017/jun/28/billionaire-airport-last-act-mexico-city-ruin-carlos-slim

and, some argue, organized crime. The daily rate of murder across the country is 72 dead; political assassinations are common and aimed at independent journalists in particular.

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/jun/30/mexico-spying-scandal-pegasus-opposition

Here is last week’s NYT column that illuminates the presidential complexities:

https://www.nytimes.com/2017/06/29/opinion/atenco-mexico-pena-nieto-yosoy132.html?_r=0

As a tourist in the city you can stay blissfully unaware of all that and just bask in the architectural beauty, a sense of history and the kindness and warmth of basically anyone you encounter. People are extraordinary helpful, and art surrounds you wherever you look. Mexico City has more museums in the world than any other city but London. A week is not enough to even scratch the surface. But I tried!