After just spending a couple of disturbing hours at the powerful Museo Memoria y Tolerancia, we couldn't help but smile when we saw this utterly joyous and happy sculpture across from Alameda Central Park!
I wish I'd seen some information about the story behind what looked like an enormous canoe with three people standing upright in it in front of the palace.
The interior was a gem and a true masterpiece of Art Deco architecture with an amazing use of multiple varieties of marbles in the columns and the floor.
I learned that as a result of the high cost of cochineal, the possession of items dyed red with the pigment was a privilege reserved for the elite and signaled the owner's wealth and importance.
Cochineal was also used as a color of power in paintings of royalty and nobility as well as rich or influential people due to their positions in society.
In the 19th century, cochineal was less used and was less seen as a symbol of power because of a different interpretation of wealth. In addition, new synthetic pigments were created that were cheaper, more stable and more saturated so they quickly replaced their natural counterparts.
I read that many painters, especially the Impressionists who were interested in exploring the properties of color, continued using cochineal. The presence of cochineal in 19th century Japanese prints proved that the trade of cochineal had spread around the world.
Following Mexican indigenous tradition in the area of textiles, artisans continued to use cochineal in their works, applying ancient techniques and original recipes in folk art and furnishings.
The Palacio had some glorious paintings by familiar artists: Turner, Gaugin, Van Gogh and Renoir respectively below:
David Alfaro Siqueiros was a Mexican social realist painter, better known for his large murals in fresco. Along with Rivera and José Clemente Orozco, he established 'Mexican Muralism.' He was a Marxist-Leninist in support of the Soviet Union and a member of the Mexican Communist Party who participated in an unsuccessful attempt to assassinate Leon Trotsky in May 1940. He painted Victim of Fascism in 1945.
His 1944 painting was called New Democracy.
On the 130th anniversary of the birth of artist Roberto Montenegro (1887-1968), the Palacio exhibited a series of his works called Mexican Folk Art Expressions. The artist collected folk art at the request of the government in the 1920s. It was hard to think of a type of art that contrasted more than the murals we'd just viewed!
Nearby was the Casa de los Azulejos, an 18th-century palace built by the Count del Valle de Orizaba family. The House of Tiles was distinguished by its facade which was had beautiful blue and white tiles from Puebla state.
I read on wikipedia that there are two conflicting explanations of how this building got its current appearance. The more reliable version states that the fifth Countess Del Valle de Orizaba, who resided in Puebla, decided to return to the capital after her husband's death and remodeled the house with Puebla tile in 1737 to show the family's immense wealth.
The other version is more colorful and tells of a son whose lifestyle caused his father to state that if he didn’t change his ways he would "never build his house of tiles," meaning that he would never amount to anything. As an act of defiance, the young man had the tiles put on when he inherited the house! These tiles covered the three exposed facades of the house on both levels.
We strolled along Madero St. which was laid out in the 16th century and originally called San Francisco St., after the church and monastery there. Later it was called Plateros St., because of all the silver miners and silversmiths who located there. From the 16th century through most of the colonial period, I could understand how it was one of the most desirable streets in the city.
I was so glad we'd started our exploration of the city in its Centro Histórico as more than 1500 of the buildings in that 686-block area were classified as historic or artistic monuments and it was on the UNESCO World Heritage list.
I couldn't resist including this photo, of course, of the Canadian toy store and hotel on Madero St.!
Catedral Metropolitana, the biggest church in Latin America and also the heart of of the world's largest Catholic diocese, was where we headed next. Because it took about 250 years - from 1525 to 1788 - to complete, the extraordinarily long period was reflected in the multiple styles of architecture from Classical through Baroque to Neoclassical.
The Cathedral had five principal altars and sixteen side chapels containing a valuable collection of paintings, sculptures and church furniture! We could literally feel the city's rich cultural and spiritual history while in its doors.
The imposing Sacristy contained 17th century paintings.
With its gold-alloy choir rail imported from Macao, superbly carved stalls and two magnetic organs, the choir was a highlight of the cathedral.
The Capilla de San Jose, one of the chapels dedicated to saints and manifestations of the Virgin, was also exquisitely decorated with more statues and oil paintings.
We had to watch our step in the Cathedral as its huge weight has caused it to sink into the soft clay of what was once the bed of Lake Texcoco. Restoration, mostly carried out underground, has however prevented its collapse. The sloping of the floor was very noticeable toward the left in the back below.
In the magnificent Altar of the Kings were two oil paintings called the Adoration of the Kings and the Assumption of the Virgin.
Attached to the Cathedral was the Sagrario Metropolitano that was built in the mid-18th century as the Cathedral parish church.
The sumptuous high Baroque facade was adorned with sculpted saints.
I am accustomed to seeing gorgeous flowers in many of the countless churches we have visited over the years but I certainly don't recall seeing such profusions of baby's breath anywhere prior to this. They were stunning!
I infinitely preferred the much smaller and simpler parish church as the Cathedral was far too ostentatious and over the top for me.
I can't say I minded looking at the half-naked men for a while!
A two-minute walk from the Cathedral and the other sites in the Plaza was Templo Mayor which was discovered in 1978 when electricity workers happened on an eight-ton stone disc carving of the Aztec goddess Coyolxauhqui. The decision was made to demolish colonial buildings so that excavation could begin on the Great Temple. They uncovered the remains of superimposed temples which were marked by the date of construction for each one.
As the temple was enlarged each time, each rebuilding was accompanied by the sacrifice of captured warriors. What we saw were sections of the temple's seven different phases. At the center was a platform which dated to about 1400.
The importance of fauna, including the six-meter long serpent at the entrance to the platform, in the ritual life of past generations was evident in the Great Temple's architecture as well as its offerings. Monumental heads, also sculpted in basalt, flanked the four sides of the platform.
By the time the Spanish arrived, a 40 meter-high double pyramid towered above shrines to the water god and war god with steep, twin stairways climbing to shrines of the two gods.
The chac-mool, a Mayan reclining figure, honored Tlaloc, the water god which was worshiped by Mexican and many Mesoamerican peoples dating to the remote past. The god brought the rain that made it possible to grow crops and also could bring storms that devastated them.
The platform at the North Patio:
Explorations in the House of Eagles produced surprising results, particularly sculptures of two people dressed as eagles. Thanks to interdisciplinary investigation, it was possible to learn about the kind of ritual activities that were performed in this building.
If you click on the photo below to enlarge it, you will more easily see the intricate bas relief carvings and the color still clearly evident from hundreds of years ago.
Carved stone flowers decorated some of the pillars. The flower's four petals represented the four cardinal points and each related to its own god.
Chemical analysis of the floors showed residue of blood, animal and vegetable products distributed in specific areas. During the most recent excavation period, ceramic sculptures were recovered representing the god who was Lord of the Underworld, the destination of the souls of those who died a natural death or died of old age.
I am not sure if you will want to look at a larger view of the Wall of Skulls, made of rows of 240 human skulls covered with several layers of stucco!
It was so refreshing seeing a sign of new life among the ruins of the centuries old temple.
One part of the temple was known as the Red Temple as it was bordered by walls decorated with large red stone circles.
Since it was first built, the Great Temple went through seven construction phases, each of which gradually increased its size. By 1521, the ancient temple had risen to its maximum height of 45 meters, just 15 meters lower than the adjacent Metropolitan Cathedral that is visible in the background below. It was hard to fathom that when what remains of the temple is just a fraction of its former height. Recent investigations at the Cathedral have led to the discovery of six temples that are still buried under it!
The Museo del Templo Mayor was almost easy to miss because it was hidden behind the ruins which looked like a construction site from some perspectives!
Upon entering, the first thing we saw was a replica of the Wall of Skulls, something we could have done without!
A sculpture of Xolotl, the God of Duplicity who was portrayed with a dog head and earplugs, was a little easier to take.
Again, the colors and exquisite detail in this piece were incredible to see.
This monumental stone sculpture represented a 'fire serpent' which was a mythical weapon.
The ancient Nahuas believed there was a monster made of a number of serpents that were joined together and interwoven like a mat which they called petlacoatl or serpent mat.
Everywhere we looked was mural upon mural on each of the three levels - we were in hog heaven and couldn't wait to look and appreciate a type of art we had so rarely come across before. As San Ildefonso is regarded as the birthplace of the muralist movement, we had come to the perfect spot.
From 1922 to 1926, José Clemente Orozco, whose work we saw at the Palacio de Bellas Artes, painted murals on the three floors of one of the large courtyards of the Colegio de San Ildefonso. His paintings focused on universal themes of motherhood, freedom, justice and the law.
One of his most dramatic pieces was La Trinchera or The Trench, which highlighted the Mexican revolutionary tragedy through three figures. Orozco used red to suggest blood and gunfire in the mural. I found it interesting that this painting was printed on 100 peso notes in the 1970s.
The Palacio de la Antigua Escuela de Medicina, the current home of the Museum of Medicine, once had a far more sinister past as the Palace of the Inquisition where fearsome interrogations took place from the 16th century onward. It was unusual seeing its Baroque facade set on the corner of the building. As it was getting late and we were getting 'museumed out' by then, we gave it a pass.
Some of you may know I love to buy cards; in fact I already have so many I should never buy another and should start sending out far more than I do. But that didn't stop me from admiring shop after shop only selling wonderful greeting and note cards in the Tuscan-style arcade!
Unfortunately, my phone's camera wasn't able to pick up very clearly the Talavera tiles near the top of the church tower but the pretty tile work is more visible if you click on the photo to make it bigger.
A pretty view of the Plaza de Santo Domingo with the arcade on the right:
Mexico City was so pretty at night with the colonial buildings and statues lit up, we were glad we decided to walk back to our hotel.
After hearing nonstop in the American media only about overwhelming negatives associated with Mexico and its capital city, I readily admit that neither of us expected such a lovely city center. We were both struck by the attractive buildings and how peaceful the historical center was and wish the American media and politicians would also portray some of the positives with the city and country.
On the other side of the park was the Palacio de Bellas Artes, a stunning white marble palace, concert hall and arts center that was constructed beginning in 1904. Designed by Italian architect Adamo Boari in Neoclassical style, the building of this great theater was stopped in 1913 when the heavy marble shell sank in the spongy subsoil and because of the beginning of the Mexican Civil War. Mexican architect Federico Mariscal started anew in 1932 and finished it in 1934.
We were fortunate that we happened to be there when the gallery featured a large exhibition called Mexican Red about the use of cochineal, a red pigment made from pulverized bugs, in paintings, garments and furnishings.
The use of the expensive dye reaffirmed the status of the figures or, in other words, prestigious pigments were required to represent prestigious people. Status in the paintings of the Virgin, Christ, various saints and the upper echelon of the church was highlighted through the coloring of the mantles and clothes.
Following Mexican indigenous tradition in the area of textiles, artisans continued to use cochineal in their works, applying ancient techniques and original recipes in folk art and furnishings.
As much as I had enjoyed learning all about the use of cochineal in paintings, we had come to the Palacio to see the paintings by Mexico's internationally famous muralists.
Diego Rivera was a prominent Mexican painter whose large frescoes helped establish the Mexican mural movement in Mexican art. His work also influenced later painters as well as Abstract Impressionist Jackson Pollock. I read that Rivera, who spent a lot of time painting mammoth frescoes and murals in the US, took art out of the gallery and into the public domain so that more people could enjoy and appreciate its beauty.
Rivera painted Dictatorship: Carnival of Mexican Life in 1936.
The artist began drawing at the age of three, a year after his twin brother's death. I was amused to read that when Rivera had been caught drawing on the walls, his parents, rather than punishing him, installed chalkboards and canvases on the walls!
His Victims of War was painted in 1945.
Rivera's most important work, painted in 1934, took up one entire wall. It was initially called Recreation of Man at the Crossroads when Rivera began painting it in 1933 for the Rockefeller Center in New York City. It was removed after a furor erupted in the press over a portrait of Vladimir Lenin it contained. When Rivera refused to remove Lenin from the painting, he was ordered to leave. One of Rivera's assistants managed to take a few pictures of the work so the artist was able to later recreate it here at the Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico City. The painting was renamed Man, Controller of the Universe and depicted Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels and Leon Trotsky, who lived with Rivera and his wife, famous Mexican painter Frida Kahlo, when he was exiled in Mexico City.
As a result of the negative publicity, a further commission was canceled to paint a mural for an exhibition at the Chicago World's Fair. Rivera issued a statement that with the money left over from the commission of the mural at Rockefeller Center, he would repaint the same mural over and over wherever he was asked until the money ran out!
We would have loved to see the Palacio's theater as its stained-glass curtain was assembled by the New York designer Tiffany & Co. from almost a million pieces of glass but unfortunately it was only available for viewing at performances. We took a last look at the interior of the intriguing Art Deco building before leaving.
This very imposing building in the plaza, next to the Fine Arts Museum, was the Palacio Postal which we stumbled onto by accident, not realizing initially it was an actual working post office! The marble work in the interior was so stunning that we felt like we were inside a grand hotel or a palace! Too bad the ornate, century-old lifts were for staff only.
This was the first church we remembered entering that no one was allowed to walk down the center aisle to the altar. That made sense when I learned the giant hanging pendulum in the middle of the central aisle showed markings on the floor of how the building was slowing shifting. Earthquake damage has made the Cathedral list visibly to one side, which further added to its unique charm!
The Cathedral and smaller parish church were both in the Plaza de la Constitución which used to be known as the Plaza de Armas like so many other city squares we had just seen throughout South America. Residents began calling it the Zócalo, meaning 'base,' in the 19th century when plans for a major monument to independence went unrealized, leaving only the pedestal. Prior to the colonial period, it was the main ceremonial center in the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan.
Catty corner to the Cathedral was the Palacio Nacional, the largest presidential palace we'e ever seen.
As we walked around the mammoth square, it was impossible to miss all the festive Christmas decorations and greetings in the center of and on the buildings. I was just as happy not to be there when the square served as a gathering spot for mass protests, a gallery of spooky Dia de los Muertes or Day of the Dead altars or when 18,000 nude Mexicans filled the square as part of an art project!
Just steps from the Zócalo, we heard booming drums and discovered Aztec dancers wearing snakeskin loincloths, elaborately feathered headdresses and shell anklets.
The dancers moved in a circle and chanted in Nahuatl, a language common to a group of people native to southern Mexico and Central America, including the Aztecs.
The woman looked like she was performing a healing ceremony like the one we'd witnessed in Cuenca, Ecuador, earlier on the trip.
The Temple is thought to be on the same spot where the Aztecs saw their symbolic eagle perching on a cactus with a snake in its beak - the symbol of Mexico today.
An Altar of the Frogs, in the center of the Phase IV b platform, pronounced the coming of the rainy season when they croaked! Frogs were also dressed in blue, then sacrificed and cooked during the month of the fiesta honoring the maize goddess.
This was the best spot to more easily discern the different levels or stages of the temple.
The temple's House of Eagles was the only part of the complex that was protected from the elements by a large metal awning. The house was one of the most important structures in the Sacred Precinct of the city. This was where the elite, including the Eagle Warriors, conducted ceremonies, meditated, prayed and gave offerings. The large complex was spread out over a broad platform with columns, meeting rooms and patios.
The breathtaking sculpture of a Golden Eagle had a circular cavity on the top which identified it as a container for offerings. It was discovered in 1985 bordering the Templo Mayor and associated with a pre-Hispanic structure. The fine feathers radiating from around the eagle's eye represented sunbeams and indicated a connection with the sun, the most important Aztec deity.
This magnificent relief representing the deity of the earth, Tlaltecuhtli, in its feminine version was found in 1891 during the temple's excavations. Thought it was mutilated as a consequence of the Spanish conquest, its beauty and main characteristics could still be appreciated. Look closely and you can see the goddess had her head turned toward the front, with her head turned over and upside down and she was in the natural squatting childbirth position.
Wouldn't this make a perfect Halloween mask?!
Trade was of vital importance to the Aztecs, not only because they obtained products through it but also because the traveling merchants could provide military espionage on towns they were considering to conquer. Among the offerings recovered from the temple were these objects that provided evidence of trade for the Aztecs.
This freaky-looking, ceramic sculpture represented the God of Death who was believed by the Aztecs as a half gaunt being in a position of attack with claws. His liver hung under his thorax, because according to Aztec beliefs, the organ was closely related to the Underworld where the deity lived.
This group of sculptures, found leaning over the main staircase of the temple corresponding to Stage III from 1431, indicated they were deposited as an offering by the Aztecs when they began construction of Stage IV. They were known as standard bearers since they had one of their hands in position to hold a flagpole. The cavity on their chests was used to keep a green stone as a symbolic heart.
This ceramic pot, modeled with a high relief face of Tlaloc's face, the God of Rain, belonged to Stage IV (1440-1469) at the temple. It contained mother-of-pearl shells and green stone beads. I was just agog how perfectly preserved it still was after being buried for centuries.
Ashes and plant tips were found in the interior of this ceramic brazier which showed the face of Tlaloc. One of the most fascinating aspects to this piece in my mind was the representation of weeping, achieved through strips finished off with small discs which symbolized green stone beads and, by extension, water and fertility.
This was another example of the serpent symbolism found throughout the temple.
The museum was exquisitely designed with many objects displayed on platforms. Its many steps and levels reminded me of the temple where history was layered as successive civilizations were built on top of each other. It was amazing that the world class museum was built in the middle of one of the most congested cities in the world, in between either the buildings or ruins that have belonged to three cultures that spanned several centuries while respecting everything around it.
The Templo de la Enseñanza or Teaching Church had an extremely narrow and ornate facade which sloped backward from the ground level. Built as a convent church, it was vacated by the nuns as a result of the anti-clerical Reform Laws. It was later used by government bodies, including the Ministry of Education.
The dazzling gold altarpiece, studded with the sculpted figures of saints, rose up to the roof of the church. On either side were huge paintings.
The 16th century Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso, originally a Jesuit seminary, was described as "an outstanding example of Mexican and civil architecture from the colonial era." The building, now a museum, belonged to the national university. The reason why we wanted to visit was its star attraction was the museum's collection of murals from the earliest years of the Mexican muralist movement.
Blog followers know the countless museums and galleries we have made a point of seeing on all our overseas adventures beginning in 2013. When we walked through the admittedly marvelous doorway, we had no idea how absolutely sublime the museum was and that was without having seen any of its murals, its claim to fame!
Orozco's nude study entitled Cortés y la Malinche was probably
his most famous piece of public art although it was relegated to a staircase. The fresco, which depicted Hernán Cortés, the Spanish conquistador who led an expedition that caused the fall of the Aztec Empire, and his indigenous mistress, related to the mixing of the races that formed the Mexican nation. With his arm across her, I wondered whether Cortés was restraining or protecting her.
I hope you will enjoy these marvelous murals by the Mexico's most famous muralists half as much as we did.
The museum was located in Plaza de Santo Domingo, second only in
importance to the Zócalo itself. We much preferred walking around the plaza
where the Dominicans built the first convent in New Spain in 1527. All that
remains of the convent was the restored chapel, the La Capilla de la Expiación.
Most of the buildings that flanked the square dated from the 18th century. I wish I knew what this grand building was across the square.
After a fun wander around the square, we returned to the Church of Santo Domingo that we'd first come across in the plaza. Erected between 1717 and 1737, most of the sober facade was covered in red volcanic tezontle stone.
The interior contained more beautiful religious paintings and statues of saints thought to date from the 16th century and .
Can you see the crack running down the middle of the photo I took of the main aisle? The uneven subsidence or sinking of the land that we'd seen in the Metropolitan Cathedral earlier that day was also an issue in the Santo Domingo Church and was widely evident in the square. The gradual caving in had led to the demolition of previous churches on this site.
Under the arcade attached to the church normally sit scribes who, for a small fee, fill out official documents using old manual typewriters. We were there too late to see them though.
This surely has to be the chair with the tallest back and most unusual armrests, don't you think?!
Next post: The real reason we came to Mexico City: to visit Teotihuacán, one of the most impressive cities of the ancient world.
Posted on June 25th, 2018, from back home again in Littleton, Colorado.
