MEXICO

7 Fun Facts About the Monumento a la Revolución in Mexico City

The iconic Monument to the Revolution in CDMX offers an observation deck up top, tombs of famous revolutionaries and a museum below.

Monument to the Revolution in Mexico City

The Monument to the Revolution was going to be a much bigger structure but opened in its present incarnation in 1938.

We had a bit of time before seeing the Immersive Frida show at Frontón México across the street. So we wandered through the Plaza de la República, admiring the Monumento a la Revolución (Monument to the Revolution) from all angles. We didn’t end up going inside (either up to the top or down below, which are both options). 

At the time, what we knew about this monument barely scratched the surface. It has hidden depths — literally.

Here are seven fun facts about the Monument to the Revolution in Mexico City.

Bronze cupola at the top of the Monument to the Revolution in Mexico City

The Monumento a la Revolución is the tallest triumphal arch in the world and has become a CDMX icon.

Fast facts about the Monument to the Revolution 

Opened: 1938

Designer: Carlos Obregón Santacilia

Height: 220 feet 

Style: Art Deco and Mexican Social Realism

Market stalls in front of the Monument to the Revolution in Mexico City

A local market sets up shop in the Plaza de la República in front of the Monumento a la Revolución.

1. It’s the tallest triumphal arch in the world. 

Take that, Arc de Triomphe! Paris’ monument might arguably be more famous, but Mexico City’s rises higher than any other, at 220 feet. (The Arc de Triomphe is a paltry 164 feet high.)

Historic photo of the construction of the Palacio Legislativo in CDMX in 1912

A historic shot of the structure first being built, from 1912. The monument was originally going to be a palatial government building, the Palacio Legislativo Federal.

2. It was originally supposed to be a massive legislative building. 

The structure was planned to be the Palacio Legislativo Federal (Federal Legislative Palace). No royalty would have resided in this palace — instead, it was to house legislators and bureaucrats during the corrupt reign of Porfirio Díaz (more on him below). But then the Mexican Revolution ignited and the project was abandoned. 

The metal structure that was to serve as the core of the building languished for over 20 years, rusting away. But then Mexican architect Carlos Obregón Santacilia convinced the government to transform the structure into a monument to the heroes of the Mexican Revolution.

Porfirio Díaz and Francisco I. Madero

The dictator Porfirio Díaz (left) was ousted during the Mexican Revolution, and Francisco I. Madero (right) was set up as the president of the new democracy.

3. The Mexican Revolution deposed a crooked ruler and instituted democracy for the nation.

A hero of the battle that defeated invading French troops (why Cinco de Mayo is celebrated every year), Díaz ran for president of Mexico. But when he lost, the sore loser launched a coup in 1876 and seized power, ruling nonstop, aside from a four-year break, until 1911. Francisco I. Madero, a presidential contender who was jailed when he threatened to unseat Díaz, became a leader of the pro-democracy movement. He called Mexicans to arms on November 20, 1910 (that date is now Revolution Day). The revolutionaries succeeded, and Díaz’s reign ended when he was forced into exile in France. It’s estimated that 2 million people died during the revolution, or 1 in 8 Mexicans.

Pancho Villa on a white horse

The (in)famous bandit Pancho Villa, folk hero of the Mexican Revolution, is interred in a pillar of the Monumento a la Revolución.

4. The monument also serves as a mausoleum for Mexican presidents and rebels.

If I had done a bit of research beforehand, I would definitely have insisted on heading inside the monument. The bases of each of the four main pillars house the tombs of some of the most famous Mexican revolutionaries: Pancho Villa (bandit), Madero (president), Plutarco Elías Calles (general, then president) and Lázaro Cárdenas (another general, another president). 

Glass elevator at the Monument to the Revolution in Mexico City

The glass elevator in the middle of the monument takes visitors up to a viewing platform by the cupola.

5. There’s an observation deck at the top of the monument.

The Monument to the Revolution underwent an extensive renovation in 2010, when a new glass elevator was added. You can easily spot it rising right into the center of the structure. It takes visitors up to a viewing platform inside the copper-clad cupola — though I bet the ride up is the best part. Part of the structure has been left exposed to reveal the steel innards that support it. If this interests you, I’ve heard you can book a short tour during your visit. 

6. And, under all those tons of concrete, there’s a museum and art exhibit space below.

Head down to the basement to find an art gallery as well as the National Museum of the Revolution. The museum (self-described as avant-garde — we’ll have to take their word for it) includes a series of rooms that each deal with a time period of Mexico’s history.

To one side of the monument, there’s a sunken garden that offers an escape from the hustle and bustle of Mexico City.

7. The Plaza de la República has a nice hangout spot. 

The day we walked around the plaza, there was a small market by the monument’s main entrance. I do love how vendors can set up shop pretty much anywhere in Mexico City. This market seemed to be more for locals, with stalls selling shirts, hats, purses and the like, with some food stands mixed in. 

On the other side of the plaza, there’s a sunken garden. The walls are high enough to block out the busy intersections that surround the square — certainly visually if not aurally. It’s a great place to seek a bit of serenity right in the midst of a commercial district. 

So, even though there’s so much going on inside, above and below the Monumento a la Revolución, I never beat myself up for missing something while traveling. I’m always happy to have a reason to go back — especially to as magical a city as CDMX. –Wally

Cleaning cart in front of the Monument to the Revolution in Mexico City

Keeping the Plaza de la República clean

Monumento a la Revolución

Plaza de la República S/N
Tabacalera
Cuauhtémoc
06030 Ciudad de México
México

 

Cuadra San Cristóbal: Barragán’s Striking Horse Ranch Home

The Mexican architect’s masterpiece of modern architecture is framed by brightly colored walls and a signature fountain.

Duke and Wally sit at Cuadra San Cristobal

Duke and Wally absolutely loved visiting Cuadra San Cristóbal, an amazing home and horse ranch designed by Luis Barragán.

Luis Barragán is, undeniably, one of the most influential architects of the 20th century. Revered for his mastery of color, light and shadow, which blend vernacular hacienda elements with modernist influences, the Mexican architect’s legacy continues to inspire and influence contemporary design. 

Bright pink walls at Cuadra San Cristobal

Brightly colored walls meet at right angles and form artistic vistas everywhere you look.

It had been a dream of mine to see the famous pink-hued walls of the Cuadra San Cristóbal equestrian estate. The iconic ranch has served as the backdrop for countless creative projects, including an editorial campaign featuring French model Léa Seydoux shot onsite for Louis Vuitton in 2016 (which, naturally, included a horse or two).

2016 Louis Vuitton fashion shoot at Cuadra San Cristobal

Louis Vuitton did a fashion shoot at Cuadra San Cristóbal, which turned out pretty freakin’ cool.

I had seen photos — but the color, form, texture and scale cannot truly be comprehended without experiencing the design in person.

When Wally and I had the opportunity to visit the modernist landmark on a trip to CDMX, I searched the web to plan our pilgrimage and found the Traveling Beetle, an architectural guide service that offered a half-day Barragán tour including access to this emblematic structure.

Barragán was an avid equestrian and in the 1960s, he directed his admiration for the bold and graceful four-legged creatures into the construction of the gated community of Los Clubes, a residential subdivision in Ciudad López Mateos designed to attract the equestrian elite of Mexico City. 

Metal chairs on lawn at Cuadra San Cristobal

Wouldn’t you just love to sit and admire this view?

The private seven-and-a-half-acre estate was designed and built in collaboration with Barragán’s protégé Andrés Casillas from 1966 to 1967 as a home and horse ranch for Folke Egerström and his family. The two met while riding at the nearby Club Hípico Francés and shared a passion for the equestrian lifestyle.

Cuadra San Cristobal with lawn

The white portion is the family home, while the pink is an entrance to the gardens.

Barragán’s True Colors

Viewed from the street, the unassuming perimeter wall of Cuadra San Cristóbal presents a blank face, concealing the stables, fountain, courtyard, house and gardens beyond. Only the name spelled out in metal letters on a wall in front hints at the gentility of the property.

Duke pointing to the sign of Cuadra San Cristobal

Duke, whose first name is actually Christopher, or Cristóbal in Spanish, points to his namesake attraction.

An orange-red classic VW bus in front of Cuadra San Cristobal

San Cristóbal was part of a half-day excursion with the Traveling Beetle, during which we tooled around in this tomato-red VW Bus.

Outer entrance to Cuadra San Cristobal

The unassuming front door to the complex doesn’t offer even the slightest hint of the gorgeousness beyond.

Wally and I exited the mint-condition orange-red ’76 VW Combi Bus and followed Martín, our tour guide, passing through a wooden door that led to an open patio paved with squares of volcanic basalt stone. It was late morning and the sunlight gave the Egerström family home a soft glow. The white Cubist-looking structure stood to our left, its façade absent of ornamentation save for a slatted rectangular window. Directly ahead of us, a hedge and tree hid the courtyard beyond. The opening was framed by a white wall to one side and a rust-red wall to the other. We glimpsed a bright pink wall beyond and a cascade of water. Talk about a dramatic entrance.

Martín gestured to the opening. “The walls act like curtains to the main stage,” he said. “Barragán was a showman.”

The entrance to the home on the property, still owned by the Egerström family.

The opening that reveals the courtyard of Cuadra San Cristobal

Our guide, Martín, described the walls, one white, the other brick red, as curtains of sorts, framing the spectacle to come.

We followed the sound of the gurgling water that spilled in a steady stream from a spout in a massive wall into a shallow basin. The pool reflects the sky, evoking a sense of tranquility but also serving a practical purpose as a trough to provide horses with water and to keep cool. 

Fountain at Cuadra San Cristobal

The first glimpse of the courtyard at Cuadra San Cristóbal

Barragán was inspired by the Islamic gardens of the Alhambra in Spain and elements of Moorish architecture in North Africa, which focused on interior life arranged around a peaceful open courtyard garden and fountain. 

Even though the cuadra is in a neighborhood, it’s easy to forget this. Everywhere you look, you’re surrounded by greenery, and walls frame the open space, ensuring privacy. Barragán, you see, was at heart an introvert.

Pink back wall of Cuadra San Cristobal

Barragán is known for his rectangular walls painted vibrant hues — especially this shade of magenta, which has become Mexico City’s official color.

The Wonderwalls of Cuadra San Cristóbal

As we moved closer to the courtyard, the white walls of the home receded to reveal a kinetic energy of broad intersecting horizontal and vertical planes awash in rosa mexicano (bougainvillea pink) and mauve (jacaranda purple). The palette was informed by Barragán’s lifelong friend and frequent collaborator, the painter Chucho Reyes. Colors build a strong contrast to the sand beneath our feet and the surrounding tropical flora. 

In fact, the colors were chosen to act as complementary tones to those provided by nature: The bright pink plays off the dark green of native plants; the tan wall provides a contrast with the blue sky; and the brick red wall pairs nicely with the aqua water in the pool.

Fountain pool and pink wall at Cuadra San Cristobal

A kaleidoscope of colors: brick red, magenta, aqua — and, of course, sky blue and green, provided by nature.

Pink dividing wall at Cuadra San Cristobal

Right angles, pops of color, shifting shadows — these are all Barragán signatures.

Back of house and pink garden wall at Cuadra San Cristobal

Note the small gap where the two walls meet.

Pink wall by purple wall and sleeping dog at Cuadra San Cristobal

A sleeping schnauzer rests in the back corner of the courtyard.

Fountain at Cuadra San Cristobal

The fountain at San Cristóbal is similar to another Barragán design, la Fuente de los Amantes.

I had seen photos of the very place where we were standing — but the color, form, texture and scale cannot truly be comprehended without experiencing the monumentality of the design in person. This is where I became acutely aware of Barragán’s use of scenic framing and spatial manipulation to create a dramatic sense of passage. Everywhere I looked, layers of color entered my field of vision. To me, this was truly a sacred space, where the concept of time seemed to dissolve. 

A copse of trees, including a jacaranda and an ombú, with its strange yellow fruit, act as an organic foil to the geometry of the measured lines. They stood in direct contrast to a pink wall with two vertical cutouts that suggested a citadel fortification but were, in fact, vents for hay bales. 

The stables at Cuadra San Cristobal

It’s easy to get caught up by the beauty of the space and forget that, at its heart, this is a horse ranch. But that’s exactly what it is, as you can see from the stables to the right.

Out to Pasture

We approached the stable and passed under the overhang of the boarding barn. Once home to 37 thoroughbred horses, the stalls were designed for the gentle giants to be able to see, smell and communicate with each other.  

Barragán was asked why he only built homes for the wealthy.

“And for horses,” he said. Then he added, “But horses are neither rich nor poor. They’re just horses.”

The clubhouse is located at the end of the stable near the fountain. Inside is a well-preserved teletype, which was used to send and receive printed messages and data via telephone cables, probably considered state-of-the-art at the time it was installed. Above eye level, a clerestory window perfectly frames a slice of the sky, illuminating the space with subtle natural light. Martín told us that Barragán didn’t include many built-in lights into his designs — instead, he relied on indirect sunlight and lamps.

After using the bathroom in the clubhouse, Wally came out with a big smile on his face. “We peed in a Barragán, bitches!” he whispered to me.

White horses at Cuadra San Cristobal

When we visited, there were only two horses kept at Cuadra San Cristóbal.

Bales of hay at Cuadra San Cristobal

These two vertical openings are part of the dramatic wall of the courtyard. Here, at the back, you can see they have a purpose — offering ventilation for the hay.

Back entrance at Cuadra San Cristobal

A back entrance to the living quarters of the stables

It’s ironic that Barragán is famous for his intense color palette, when it was actually chosen by his friend, the painter Chucho Reyes.

Flowering pink tree that matches the wall at Cuadra San Cristobal

All of the colors were chosen to match or complement that of the natural setting. The legendary pink, for instance, perfectly mirrors the blossoms of the property’s bougainvillea trees.

Purple back gate at Cuadra San Cristobal

The purple wall is actually a gate that opens via gravity.

Man pets black schnauzer

Duke pets Frida, one of the worker’s pet schnauzer.

A black schnauzer named Frida, owned by one of the workers, was napping in a corner of the yard and later came by to say hi to me. At the time of our visit, Cuadra San Cristóbal was home to a black cat who slinked by us as we made our way over to the pasture where a pair of horses, Little Girl and Carbonero, stood. When Wally asked about the name — Carbonero translates to Charcoal, a strange moniker for a white steed — Martín replied that it’s considered unlucky to give a white horse a name that refers to its color.

The garden is filled with cacti and palms.

Not Your Garden Variety Garden 

Many of the gardens designed by Barragán were intentionally left unmanicured in places. Martín led us to an unassuming secret garden concealed between an opening between the house and interior courtyard. Nature was incorporated throughout all of Barragán’s works, and landscapes were often designed by the architect himself. A magic tunnel of greenery hidden away in the woods behind the home led to a small wooden table. 

Barragán was a devout Fransican Catholic with deeply held spiritual beliefs. He felt that an essential part of his architecture should elevate the experience of its inhabitants, including plants, animals and humans. This private bower was a place for meditation and prayer, Martín told us. “It’s a place to have a deep conversation with the Almighty.” 

Such isolated spaces are an element in all of his works, Martín continued.

The green of the native plants offers a pleasant contrast to the hot pink walls.

Garden at Cuadra San Cristobal

Looking back toward another pasture, in a corner of which the family’s beloved donkey is buried

In another part of the back garden, a donkey that was a beloved family pet is buried among the hedges.

Martín spoke to one of the ranch hands, then beckoned for us to follow him, a twinkle in his eye. One of the owners who had been on the patio had gone back inside, so we would be allowed to see the Egerströms’ private pool area. We returned to the entrance portico, went up a few steps and made our way through a passage cast in shadow that suddenly opened to an intimate outdoor space. A pavilion overlooks a swimming pool and provides shelter from the sun. It would be a nice, quiet place to read — as attested by a recently abandoned newspaper that sat atop a table, fluttering in the breeze. 

Private yard at home at Cuadra San Cristobal

We were fortunate enough to be able to explore the family’s private outdoor space.

Swimming pool at Cuadra San Cristobal

How’d you like to cool off in this pool on a hot Mexico day?

Cuadra San Cristobal swimming pool

The impressive swimming pool isn’t part of every tour. If the family is enjoying it, you won’t be able to see it.

Seen from any angle, Cuadra San Cristóbal is a masterpiece of harmony, scale and space. Even though it was built in the mid-’60s, its design remains modern and it certainly cemented my appreciation for Barragán. –Duke

 

Cuadra San Cristóbal

Cerrada Manantial Oriente 20
Mayorazgos de los Gigantes
52957 Ciudad López Mateos
México

Why We Love Barragán’s Fuente de los Amantes

The bright, modern Lovers’ Fountain reflects the equestrian neighborhood of Los Clubes, northwest of Mexico City. 

Barragan's Fuente de los Amantes

La Fuente de los Amantes, or the Lovers’ Fountain, by Luis Barragán

One of the first things you’ll notice when you enter the gated community of Los Clubes (The Clubs) is, well, the horse club. And just down the street is a lot showcasing Luis Barragán’s Fuente de los Amantes, or Lovers’ Fountain. 

Nods to the equestrian lifestyle are found everywhere in the design of this semi-public space. The “lovers” themselves are wooden horse troughs placed upright. A cobblestone path leading to the flat pool was constructed to present an inviting spot where horses could drink and cool off in the 4- to 5-foot-deep water. And the green space nearby was used for training. 

La Fuente de los Amantes is pure Barragán.
Bright colors. Optical illusions. Designs that evoke emotion.
The lovers of Barragan's Fuente de los Amantes

The “lovers” are actually horse troughs placed upright — a nod to the equestrian neighborhood.

La Fuente de los Amantes is also pure Barragán. Bright colors. Optical illusions. Designs that evoke emotion as a reaction to the cold functionalism of Le Corbusier and his Bauhaus gang. 

“Barragán was good at taking rustic and traditional materials and turning them into something modern,” our guide, Martín, declared, showing us the cobblestones. His passion for Barragán definitely gave me a newfound appreciation for the architect. 

This cobblestone path was the entrance to the fountain and small park.

cobblestone pathway with feet

Wally stands on the intricate cobblestone pathway that leads to the fountain.

Martín pointed out another Barragán signature: walls that act as screens for shadows. When you stand on the side road, where the cobblestone path begins, one of the back walls is framed, and the shadows cast upon it act like a shifting work of art.

On one side, two of the walls meet to create a quiet chamber where one can imagine the rhythmic sound of a horses’ hooves merging with the soothing sound of falling water.

Barragan's Fuente de los Amantes

Barragán is known for bright colors, especially that pop of pink.

The Lovers’ Fountain took years to complete, wrapping up in 1964.

Nowadays the fountain only runs one hour a day, from 11 a.m. to noon. We visited as part of a half-day excursion with the Traveling Beetle. They, of course, timed our visit perfectly, and we got to see the water rushing along the aqueduct to pour down into the aqua-colored pool below. 

Where does the water go? If you look closely at the edge of the pool, you’ll spot a line of small holes, where the water filters in to be cycled back into the aqueduct.

The water in the fountain only runs for one hour a day now.

Barragan's Fuente de los Amantes aqueduct feature

Horses would go into the fountain’s pool to cool off and get a drink of water.

Not to beat a dead horse, but Barragán rightfully holds his place as Mexico’s preeminent architect. The more you learn about his vision — and once you experience it in real life — the more admiration you’ll have for him. —Wally

 

Fuente de los Amantes

Manantial 10
Mayorazgos de los Gigantes
52957 Ciudad López Mateos
México


Ojo de Agua: A Delightful Breakfast in La Condesa

Using fresh, locally sourced ingredients, this CDMX fast casual restaurant offers delicious egg, coffee and smoothie options. 

A fantastic breakfast (or coffee or smoothie) option in the La Condesa neighborhood of Mexico City

Some cities really do have it all: food, culture, adventure and more. On our fourth morning in CDMX, we ventured out for breakfast and decided to try Ojo de Agua. Situated off the picturesque Plaza Citaltépetl roundabout near the tree-lined Avenida Amsterdam, Ojo de Agua is a fast casual restaurant that wants you to eat on the healthier side — without being bland or boring. With its own bountiful fresh fruit and vegetable stand on display inside, a literal feast for the eyes, the concept reinforces the proverbial saying “you are what you eat.”

The fruit stand in Ojo de Aqua

The founder named the café after Ojo de Agua, the small town built around a freshwater spring pool located in the state of Michoacán, where the family is from. Their ethos “living a healthy life, in the company of people we love, in harmony with nature and strengthening habits which provide the body with tools to be fulfilled” rings true. The first location opened in the upscale Polanco neighborhood 14 years ago and the brand has since expanded to 23 locations in CDMX. 

The clean and simple logo (a white background with turquoise type and Fanta-blue droplets of water) offer a nod to the town’s namesake spring and can be seen under the awning.

A tasty breakfast at Ojo de Agua’s sidewalk café in La Condesa

A Healthy Way to Start the Day

The interior is casual and chic with big windows, concrete floors, patterned Mudéjar-style tile and white-painted brick walls, which makes it bright and welcoming. Plus, if you arrive early like we did, there’s outdoor seating where you can soak up the morning sun and people-watch while enjoying some of the tastiest food in La Condesa. 

You’ll find plenty of breakfast options to choose from on the menu, including açaí bowls, chilaquiles and cinnamon roll French toast. I ordered the santos ahogados, two poached eggs served in a cast-iron skillet over hoja santa, a large aromatic heart-shaped leaf plucked from the plant of the same name, complete with a generous helping of grilled panela cheese, in a broth of refried beans, salsa roja, salsa verde and sliced avocado. Wally ordered the huevos Polanco, made with two Parmesan cheese-crusted baked eggs served over an avocado purée and dressed with a za’atar-dusted cilantro jocoque, a fermented dairy product somewhere between yogurt and sour cream. My breakfast was savory, flavorful and very tasty. The salsa verde was relatively mild, while the salsa roja had a nice fiery heat to it. 

Wally couldn’t help but be jealous of that thick slice of grilled panela cheese on Duke’s santos ahogados.

I appreciated that real silverware was provided, neatly presented in kraft paper sleeves. The unmistakable and familiar strains of “Bohemian Rhapsody” by the British rock band Queen played over the speakers as we ate up every last bit of our breakfast. 

You’d be hard-pressed to find cuter details than this citrus juicer that acts as a napkin holder.

After breakfast, we made a beeline to the juice bar and ordered the South Face, a combination of fresh mango, passion fruit and pineapple juice. We also purchased a small jar of smoky salsa matcha. I’m considering tossing it with some roasted root vegetables or putting it on some chilaquiles. Needless to say, we left very happy and full. –Duke

 

Ojo de Aqua

Condesa Hipódromo 23C
06100 Ciudad de México
Mexico

Immersive Frida: An Incredible, Must-See Show

Compared to this amazing spectacle honoring the life and work of Frida Kahlo, the Immersive Van Gogh is a mere screensaver. 

If you’re in Mexico City, see Immersive Frida while you can!

We parted the strings of rope as we would a curtain, fittingly, from beneath one of Frida’s long Tehuana skirts, and were instantly transported into a magical world. 

Duke and I headed toward an empty round ottoman but we both stopped right as we were about to sit down — the seat appeared to be moving! 

After a few seconds, our vision adjusted and we realized it was just a trick of the eye from the projected patterns that filled the walls and drifted across the white sand covered floor. We laughed and took a seat. 

In the center of the gallery a circle of rope curtains bisected the gallery. These moved periodically, sometimes swirling, sometimes opening to reveal the other half of the exhibit space for dramatic vistas. 

Rings of curtain-like ropes open and close to reveal dramatic vistas across the room.

Other rope curtains were placed at either end of the main room, acting as screens for the projections of Frida Kahlo’s paintings. 

The show takes place at Frontón México, a large entertainment venue.

The spectacle Duke and I attended was Frida: The Immersive Experience (Frida: la Experiencia Inmersiva) held in Mexico City at Frontón México. This massive building, which once served as a jai lai court from the 1920s until the mid-’90s, reopened after a multimillion-dollar overhaul in 2017 as a multipurpose entertainment venue that includes a casino. It’s right across the street from the Plaza de la República and is a 12-minute walk to the Palacio de Bellas Artes, which we explored after the show.

Duke posing in the lobby

Frida in 360 Degrees 

Halfway through Immersive Frida, we decided to get up to discover what it was like in the curtained portion at the center of the room. The ropes spun in circles and it was like walking through a curved passageway with moving walls. Then we were inside the bower, with slashes of light illuminating the space. Above us hung a chandelier of sorts, a cascade of white paper flowers that shifted in color, sometimes glowing light blue or purple, interspersed with dark red lightbulbs dripping like drops of blood.

The chandelier shifts colors throughout the show.

After a bit of time here and wanting to see new perspectives, we emerged and found seats on the other side of the room, where we remained for the rest of the show. 

The creators of the exhibit took elements from Frida’s paintings — a bug-eyed jaguar mask from (Girl with Death Mask, 1938), a leaf, an alarm clock and airplane from (Time Flies, 1929), and (The Two Fridas) — cut them out and filled the screen with them. Then parts of famous paintings would peek out from the collage, and you have to constantly look around to see different objects: Diego’s eye here, Frida’s mustache over there, the leg of a deer behind you. There’s nonstop movement and animation, and even voice recordings of Frida herself, waxing poetic about her love for Diego. 

Elements of Frida’s paintings are isolated and presented as a moving collage.

Then elements from other paintings reveal themselves, like this one of Diego.

Immersive Frida includes some audio footage of the artist speaking.

Frida’s famous paintings truly come to life.

You’ve got to constantly look in all directions during the show — there’s something new to see everywhere you look.

A somber set of images, like the ones about the spinal injury that plagued the iconic artist most of her life, were accompanied by intense, moody music. At one point, Frida’s chest opened and a corset wove itself around her shoulders and torso to reveal a broken column within. But then the images would turn bright, as when nature scenes began to populate, and the music became optimistic, energetic, paired with happier imagery. 

A terrible accident Frida suffered as a youth informed many of her paintings.

One segment of the exhibit features nature scenes.

At the end of the show, be sure to explore both ends of the room. Beyond the curtains on the side you enter, there are two cool photo opps with elements from the show, along with a long monitor where you can write and have your scribblings show up as colored streaks. Through the ropes at the other end of the exhibit space are a line of interactive stations where crazy creatures created from aspects of Frida’s paintings react to your movements. The more you dance around, flail your arms and jump, the more fun it is to watch the character on screen mimic you.

The photo opps at the end of the show are worthwhile.

A series of interactive exhibits put a fun end to the amazing show.

We’ve seen the Immersive Van Gogh in Chicago. While it’s cool in its way, it struck us as one-note; the media felt more static and didn’t evoke much emotion. To be honest, even the interactive moments after the Frida show were more enjoyable than the $50 we shelled out for Van Gogh. And for only $17 a ticket, Immersive Frida is a steal.

It’s obvious the curators and creators of the show loved their job and greatly respect Frida’s legacy— that appreciation and dedication shine through every moment of the 45-minute spectacle. If you couldn’t already tell, we highly recommend going. If we lived in Mexico City, or if the show makes its way to Chicago, we would certainly come again. Immersive Frida is so rich in imagery, and, as we had to spin around constantly and crane our necks to catch all the different views, we know that inevitably there was much we missed the first time. –Wally


Octavia Casa: La Condesa’s Chic New Boutique Hotel

A minimalist and modern retreat in one of CDMX’s most vibrant neighborhoods, Octavia Casa provides a tranquil sanctuary. 

Duke stands in front of the teak screening that covers the façade of the small boutique hotel.

When Wally and I decided to plan our second trip to Mexico City, aka CDMX, we agreed that we wanted to stay in La Condesa, the leafy green, pedestrian-friendly neighborhood where the city’s Art Deco movement was born. 

We love to stay in small, stylish hotels where we get to know the staff, and I was pleased to discover Octavia Casa. It’s location is ideal; it’s within walking distance of Parque México and Avenida Amsterdam, which was once a horse racetrack and is now home to numerous trendy shops and restaurants. 

The gravel courtyard off the entrance where we had breakfast

A Fashionable Place to Stay

The modern boutique hotel is an extension of Octavia, the contemporary women’s wear fashion brand launched in 2015 by Mexico City-based designer and creative director Roberta Maceda. 

When Maceda decided to venture into hospitality, she collaborated with architect Pablo Peréz Palacios and his firm PPAA (Pérez Palacios Arquitectos Asociados). Peréz Palacios thoughtfully drew inspiration from the eponymous label to create a unique hospitality experience. 

Upon arrival, we stepped out of the car and onto Avenida Amatlan. I was struck by the textures and shadows that were filtering sunlight through the teak lattice screen covering the façade of the hotel. At street level, lush tropical vegetation including monstera and jasmine add an organic element that pairs with the concrete and glass structure beneath. 

Beyond is the lobby, a space for rest and relaxation. A bronze rack holds a small collection of dresses from Octavia and a stone vase with dried magnolia leaves sits atop a circular concrete table by interior design studio Habitación 116 paired with a couple of Pierre Jeanneret Chandigarh office chairs. 

Octavia Casa’s lobby is really more of a foyer, making visitors really feel like they’re staying in a home.

The hotel’s chic minimalist aesthetic is inspired by Octavia, the women’s wear label run by the owner. A few of her dresses are on display in the lobby.

Around the corner the “lobby” continues into a communal open-air patio covered in pea gravel, which creates a zen ambiance. 

The staff described the open-air space as a continuation of the lobby.

You can see the stucco work on the wall — a technique that’s been around since the Ancient Maya.

The ingenious and well-designed interior staircase, which Wally referred to as Escheresque, ascends and descends from the ground floor to the rooftop in 90-degree turns. 

The sleek concrete stairwells looked to Wally like something out of an M.C. Escher drawing.

The scent of lilies filled the air.

A Modern Mix of Materials

A cohesive palette of muted neutrals are featured throughout Octavia Casa, anchored by refined natural and sustainable materials such as stone, wood, rattan and textiles. Interior walls are finished in chukum, a traditional and environmentally friendly Ancient Mayan stucco technique extracted by twice boiling the thorny tree’s bark. The resulting spaces are airy and bright, as well as rich, textured and welcoming. 

Reeded glass catwalks add yet another interesting visual element.

Each of the seven rooms are named after a natural element or material, such as Earth, Ochre, Bronze and Jute. We stayed in the Lino suite, the only room on the third floor, with balconies overlooking the interior courtyard and Avenida Amatlan. 

Wally does one of his jumping shots — and in a hotel as amazing as this, who can blame him?

A Sweet Suite at Octavia Casa

Our suite felt like an elegantly appointed residence and we immediately felt at home. 

The king-size bed, with linens by Octavia Casa’s homeware line, was luxurious and welcoming — especially after days spent exploring sites and the neighborhood, which had so many things to see that I feel like we barely scratched the surface. The Lino suite is also only one flight from the rooftop terrace, an oasis that provides views of the surrounding neighborhood. 

The Lino suite at Octavia Casa

A quiet nook near the balcony that overlooks the interior courtyard

The property doesn’t include a restaurant. However, they do offer a breakfast buffet in the ground-floor courtyard. We opted to do this for a few days and it included Nespresso coffee, baguettes, brie, seasonal fresh fruit, juices, jams by Rosetta, yogurt, croissants and conchas, a traditional Mexican sweetened bread roll with a crunchy topping. I was mildly obsessed with the handmade bowl-shaped mugs, and when I asked where they were from, one of the staff members, Fedra, kindly provided the name of the shop: Templo. (Incidentally, Fedra makes a mean latte.)

Fresh fruit, yogurt and bread are on offer at the breakfast buffet.

How we started every day

The coffee and espresso mugs Duke was obsessed with

In the evening the lobby transforms, illuminated by candlelight, with libations on offer, from local mezcals and tequilas to a selection of wines available for purchase. 

The personnel, including Raúl, Fedra and Luis, were genuine and friendly and took the time to make Wally and I feel welcome with every encounter. Thoughtful gestures such as a complimentary bottle of red wine for my birthday and offering the guest lounge on the ground floor when we anxiously took our on-site COVID tests, arranged by Octavia Casa, before flying home. Another employee, Silvia, reminded us of our favorite Spanish teacher, Mariú, and was a delight the entire time. She gave me a big hug on my birthday as again when we left. 

The staff at Octavia Casa gave birthday boy Duke the special treatment.

We found Octavia Casa to be a unique and unpretentious accommodation. (And so did Natalia Lafourcade, one of Mexico’s most famous singers, who stayed there at the same time as us and had the staff all aflutter.) It’s the perfect place to wake up and return to after each day’s adventures. If you’re planning a trip to this magical city, look no further and book your stay here. –Duke

Pale concrete and teak pair with green plants and the blue sky, helping make Octavia Casa a tranquil retreat from the bustle of CDMX.

Octavia Casa
Avenida Amatlan 126
Hipódromo Condesa
Cuauhtémoc
06170 Ciudad de México, CDMX
Mexico

 

Barragán’s Mind-Boggling Torres de Satélite

Just outside of CDMX, the Satellite Towers seem to change shape before your very eyes.

“The towers make us look thinner!” Duke exclaimed.

“The towers make us look thinner!” Duke exclaimed.

When we first saw the Torres de Satélite (Satellite Towers), I must admit that I was not very impressed. Granted, we were speeding past them on the freeway to the northwestern suburb on the outskirts of Mexico City named, appropriately, Satélite (Merriam-Webster’s third definition of “satellite” being “a usually independent urban community situated near but not immediately adjacent to a large city”).

Seen from the freeway, the Torres de Satélite are cool but not overly impressive.

Seen from the freeway, the Torres de Satélite are cool but not overly impressive.

From one side, the towers look entirely rectangular, but — spoiler! — they’re not!

From one side, the towers look entirely rectangular, but — spoiler! — they’re not!

The five towers struck me as simple yet colorful rectangular sculptures rising into the sky. There didn’t seem to be much that was interesting about them.

But that was before we parked nearby and experienced them on foot. 

What at first seemed to be rectangular structures reveal themselves to actually be triangular.

You walk on a bit, keeping your eyes on the ever-morphing shapes, and suddenly one of the towers looks entirely flat!
It’s fun tooling around in a bright orange-red Volkswagen bus.

It’s fun tooling around in a bright orange-red Volkswagen bus.

Barragán Tour With the Traveling Beetle

One of my old coworkers had told me about Luis Barragán, and while I admired the clean lines and bright colors in the photos I saw of his works, I confess that I wasn’t fully appreciative of his supposed genius as an architect.

So I was happy to hear that Duke had booked us a half-day excursion to see some of Barragán’s projects just outside of Mexico City, through a tour group called the Traveling Beetle. A brief review:

Duke and Wally posing near their sytlin’ ride for the day

Duke and Wally posing near their sytlin’ ride for the day

The cons: It’s definitely on the expensive side at $115 per person (that’s U.S. dollars, although keep in mind that the Mexican peso also uses the $ symbol). And, as cute as the vintage 1976 VW bus was to zoom around in, there weren’t any seatbelts. 

The pros: Everything else. 

Indeed, it’s no exaggeration when I say that I can thank our guide, Martín, in large part for my newfound appreciation of Barragán. His passion was contagious.

The architect who designed neighborhoods in the CDMX suburb of Cuidad Satélite hired Barragán to create an iconic, bold sculpture to impress visitors to the new development.

The architect who designed neighborhoods in the CDMX suburb of Cuidad Satélite hired Barragán to create an iconic, bold sculpture to impress visitors to the new development.

A Dramatic Entrance to Ciudad Satélite

Our first stop of the day was an exploration of the Torres de Satélite. We pulled into a parking lot just beyond them, which Martín described as one of the best-kept secrets of the area.

Barragán was hired to create an iconic entrance to the Ciudad Satélite, which was, at the time of the Torres de Satélite’s construction in 1958, a new community. Mario Pani, an architect known for modern megaprojects, designed the neighborhood and had been impressed with Barragán’s El Pedregal, gardens developed over lava fields. Wanting something that made a similar bold statement, Pani commissioned Barragán, who collaborated on the tower design with the artist Mathias Goeritz.

“It’s a piece of art,” Martín says, as we get out of the car and head toward the towers. “They’re in between sculpture and architecture.” 

The design of the Torres de Satélite was a collaboration with the Mexican artist Mathias Goeritz. This painting inspired Barragán to create the impressive monoliths.

The design of the Torres de Satélite was a collaboration with the Mexican artist Mathias Goeritz. This painting inspired Barragán to create the impressive monoliths.

The towers are in a concrete median in the middle of a bustling freeway, with commercial developments on either side. Note how Barragán ingeniously positioned the structures so their angles align at various vantage points.

The towers are in a concrete median in the middle of a bustling freeway, with commercial developments on either side. Note how Barragán ingeniously positioned the structures so their angles align at various vantage points.

The bright primary colors we see today weren’t the original hues, Martín informs us. Originally, the towers were painted in warm tones of ochre and orange. But when all eyes were on Mexico City for the 1968 Olympics, the city asked Barragán to refresh the palette. 

As can be seen in this vintage shot, the towers originally had a different color scheme. They were updated to coincide with the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City.

As can be seen in this vintage shot, the towers originally had a different color scheme. They were updated to coincide with the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City.

It’s a bit ironic that an architect known for his intense pops of color didn’t actually choose those colors himself. Barragán worked closely with the artist Chucho Reyes, who was the one who actually determined what colors to use. 

Barragán must have been pleased with the choice of primary colors, but Pani was not. In fact, the color scheme alteration caused the two architects to argue and part ways.

Are the towers rectangular? Triangular? Flat? Depends on where you’re standing!

Are the towers rectangular? Triangular? Flat? Depends on where you’re standing!

The Optical Illusions of the Torres de Satélite

From afar, the towers look static — almost, I dare say, a bit boring. But then, upon approach, you see them transform into all sorts of dimensions and shapes. As you walk around the base of the towers, which range from 98 to over 160 feet tall, you’re constantly surprised: What at first seemed to be rectangular structures reveal themselves to actually be triangular. You walk on a bit, keeping your eyes on the ever-morphing shapes, and suddenly one of the towers looks entirely flat! 

Yet another optical illusion employed by Barragán was the use of forced perspective. The rows of bricks get smaller and tighter as they progress up each tower to evoke an increased sense of height.

Note the forced perspective — the horizontal lines get closer and closer as they near the top. This makes the tower look taller that it really is. The blue was chosen to match the sky.

Note the forced perspective — the horizontal lines get closer and closer as they near the top. This makes the tower look taller that it really is. The blue was chosen to match the sky.

The door at the base of the far tower is open, so I peek my head in. There isn’t anything impressive in there — it’s just an unfinished space with some maintenance tools scattered about in the thick layer of grime. Martín tells us he saw a homeless man seeking shelter inside one of the towers on a previous visit.

I was surprised to discover that the towers are open at the top. Birds flitted about inside. 

“Some people call them big birdhouses,” Martín continues. He points to the birdshit that covers the interior. “And that’s exactly what they are.”

The towers aren’t usually open, but we were able to peek inside one — and were surprised to discover that they’re open at the top.

The towers aren’t usually open, but we were able to peek inside one — and were surprised to discover that they’re open at the top.

Martín has us note how the towers cast shadows upon each other, creating additional ever-shifting lines, black shapes that mimic the malleability of the towers themselves. 

“Shadow was one of Barragán’s obsessions,” he explains.

The shadows that form shifting patterns on the towers were part of Barragán’s consideration in the design. He was always aware of the power of chiaroscuro.

The shadows that form shifting patterns on the towers were part of Barragán’s consideration in the design. He was always aware of the power of chiaroscuro.

Pretty much any picture of the towers could be considered modern art (at least that’s what Wally thinks).

Pretty much any picture of the towers could be considered modern art (at least that’s what Wally thinks).

Las Torres de Satélite ended up being but an appetizer on our tour of Barragán’s suburban works (with Cuadra San Cristóbal being the main course). They seem to defy the very laws of physics and are a great introduction to the brilliance of Barragán. –Wally


Las Torres de Satélite can be combined with a tour of other Barragán works in the northwestern suburbs of Mexico City.

Las Torres de Satélite can be combined with a tour of other Barragán works in the northwestern suburbs of Mexico City.

Torres de Satélite
Ciudad Satélite
53100 Naucalpan de Juárez
State of Mexico
Mexico

 

11 Tips When Visiting Xochimilco

Here’s what to know about trajineras, how to rent these Xochimilco boats, and how to get the most of your trip to chinampas and the Isla de las Muñecas.

Xochimilco is nicknamed the Venice of Mexico City — though the boats are much more whimsical than Italian gondolas.

Xochimilco is nicknamed the Venice of Mexico City — though the boats are much more whimsical than Italian gondolas.

Wally enjoyed a pleasant few hours at Xochimilco.

Wally enjoyed a pleasant few hours at Xochimilco.

1. Pronounce it properly.

It’s “So-chee-meel-ko.”

A long table runs the length of the trajinera, situated under a canopy. Food and socializing are the main priorities.
Floating gardens called chinampas line the waterways.

Floating gardens called chinampas line the waterways.

The Xochimilco canals are some of the only remaining features from Aztec times.

The Xochimilco canals are some of the only remaining features from Aztec times.

2. Learn a bit about its history before you go.

The Xochimilco canals are a vestige of the ancient Aztec Empire and still provide much-needed water to Mexico City. Now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, they’re located about 17 miles south of the Centro Histórico. 

The name is from Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs, and translates to Flower Garden, a reference to the “floating gardens” now known as chinampas. These man-made islets are situated throughout the waterways and are covered with fruits, vegetables and other plants. (We passed a large poinsettia farm on our excursion.) They’re a clever way to create more arable land in the midst of a wetland. 

We chose to launch from Embarcadero Nuevo Nativitas.

We chose to launch from Embarcadero Nuevo Nativitas.

3. Choose your embarkation point.

This confused us a bit, as there are a few different spots you can launch from. We ended up choosing Embarcadero Nuevo Nativitas, as it’s the best spot to leave from to visit the closest Island of the Dead Dolls (see below). 

Duke and Wally aboard the Esperanza

Duke and Wally aboard the Esperanza

No motors on these boats — they’re propelled and steered by a pole.

No motors on these boats — they’re propelled and steered by a pole.

4. Don’t worry about haggling over the price.

Duke and I walked the docks, looking out at the brightly colored armada, wondering how we were going to choose one of the flat-bottomed boats known as trajineras, which sport painted archways and look like Mardi Gras floats. But then one of the captains, Sandro, approached us and offered to take us out for 500 pesos an hour (about $25 an hour). We had no idea if this was a good price — but he pointed to an official sign that had that rate right on it. That sold us, and we were glad we didn’t have to barter. So Captain Sandro aboard the Esperanza (which translates to Hope) it was!

A nearby store provided snacks and adult beverages to enjoy on our boat ride.

A nearby store provided snacks and adult beverages to enjoy on our boat ride.

5. Bring some food and drinks.

As our Uber pulled into Nativita, the first thing we did was pop into a local market and buy some snacks and booze. We were glad to find a shop but next time we’ll plan a bit better and make sure we have a picnic, including fixings for margaritas. In fact, it would be a lot of fun to have a party on one of the boats. A long table runs the length of the trajinera, situated under a canopy. Food and socializing are the main priorities. 

Some of the boats in the waterways are the equivalent of floating food trucks.

The delicious quesadillas we had for lunch that were made by a nice couple aboard a trajinera.

The delicious quesadillas we had for lunch that were made by a nice couple aboard a trajinera.

6. But save room for the waterborne food vendors.

It’s not too tragic if you forget to bring along some food. There are people who paddle narrow, flat boats along the canals, selling freshly made Mexican dishes. We bought quesadillas from a nice couple who parked near the Island of the Dead Dolls (hold your horses — it’s coming up).

Hire a mariachi band and have a dance party aboard your trajinera.

Hire a mariachi band and have a dance party aboard your trajinera.

Strains of mariachi music can often be heard on the canals.

Strains of mariachi music can often be heard on the canals.

7. Hire a floating mariachi band.

We cheated and just enjoyed hearing the strains of the lively music as we passed by. There are entire boats filled with musicians in their traditional garb, and we saw a couple of bands aboard a rented trajinera, playing their tunes as people danced.

Horrifying (but cool) dolls like this are strung up all over the Island of the Dead Dolls.

Horrifying (but cool) dolls like this are strung up all over the Island of the Dead Dolls.

The creepy Isla de las Muñecas

The creepy Isla de las Muñecas

8. Plan a trip to the Island of Dead Dolls.

If you like creepy, off-the-wall spots, like we do, you have to stop by la Isla de las Muñecas, aka the Island of the Dead Dolls. This small isle is covered with dolls left in offering to appease the ghost of a little girl who drowned. Duke and I had found a doll on the street behind the Uptown Theater in Chicago, brought it with us to CDMX and left it on the island. Read more about the Island of Dead Dolls here.

As the day wears on, the canals get more and more crowded.

As the day wears on, the canals get more and more crowded.

9. You might want to go a bit early in the day. 

We had a relatively early start to our excursion, and the canals weren’t too busy for most of the time we spent there. Until, that is, we started heading back, and the canals were utterly clogged. When we got back to the embarcadero, I didn’t know how we were going to get through the traffic jam to dock. But Captain Sandro somehow eventually  maneuvered us through the deadlock. 

While we visited Xochimilco, the bizarre Danza de los Voladores was taking place.

While we visited Xochimilco, the bizarre Danza de los Voladores was taking place.

10. Don’t miss the Danza de los Voladores.

After a pleasant couple of hours on the canals, we disembarked and walked around Nuevo Nativitas, where some market stalls had been set up. We cut over to head back to the parking area — and beheld quite a sight! Four men were hanging head-first in the air, spinning around a pole, held by ropes tied around their ankles. They circled the pole while one of their compatriots played something between a pipe and a percussion instrument while sitting atop the pole. I had actually seen such a spectacle on the Yucatán and knew it was a traditional ceremony — it’s part of the native Totonaca people’s folk culture and is known as la Danza de los Voladores, or the Dance of the Flying Men.

While you’re in this neck o’ the woods, visit the Museo Dolores Olmedo to see a large collection of Frida and Diego paintings on the grounds of an amazing estate.

While you’re in this neck o’ the woods, visit the Museo Dolores Olmedo to see a large collection of Frida and Diego paintings on the grounds of an amazing estate.

11. Pair Xochimilco with a visit to the Dolores Olmedo Museum.

This gorgeous estate holds one of the largest collections of the works of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. Come for the art, stay for the peacocks that roam the grounds. From Embarcadero Nuevo Nativitas, it’s about a 10-minute drive away. Read more about the Museo Dolores Olmedo here

Before we left for Mexico City, a couple of friends who had lived there told us we absolutely had to check out Xochimilco — and they were right. It’s definitely one of the things that we will do again when we return. –Wally

This perro hopped from boat to boat in search of food and affection.

This perro hopped from boat to boat in search of food and affection.

Duke’s on a boat!

Duke’s on a boat!

 

Anahuacalli Museum: Diego Rivera’s Temple-Like Treasure Trove

El Museo Anahuacalli is unlike any other museum we’ve visited. Explore Rivera’s collection of pre-Hispanic artifacts after a visit to La Casa Azul.

If you’ve seen Frida’s Casa Azul, the Anahuacalli Museum is included in the ticket. Don’t miss it!

If you’ve seen Frida’s Casa Azul, the Anahuacalli Museum is included in the ticket. Don’t miss it!

My first introduction to Diego Rivera, one of Mexico’s most famous artists, was a seemingly ubiquitous, mass-produced print of Rivera’s painting El Vendedor de Alcatraces (The Calla Lily Vendor). This image can be seen hanging on the wall of many Mexican restaurants in Anytown, USA. 

Wally peeks behind a giant agave plant in the plaza in front of the museum.

Wally peeks behind a giant agave plant in the plaza in front of the museum.

The subject of the artwork is a peasant woman, head bowed, squatting and overwhelmed by a basket filled with an immense bunch of white calla lilies. Rivera was known for his murals with a message and many featured the great social inequalities of the working class and the indigenous peoples of his country. His larger-than-life paintings were commissioned by the Mexican government, Henry Ford, the Rockefellers and the San Francisco Stock Exchange building, among many others. 

If the light seems gauzy it’s because the panels of the thin vertical windows aren’t made from glass but alabaster, creating an ethereal air of mystery.
Frida’s nickname for Diego was Toad-Frog — and with his bulging eyes and belly, it’s not hard to imagine why.

Frida’s nickname for Diego was Toad-Frog — and with his bulging eyes and belly, it’s not hard to imagine why.

Perhaps what’s more interesting is that his passionate, colorfully attired and unibrowed wife, the eccentric Mexican painter Frida Kahlo is now better known than her erstwhile husband. Her birthplace and childhood home, La Casa Azul (the Blue House), was purchased by and shared with Rivera, who paid off the mortgage and financial debt left by Frida’s father Guillermo — undoubtedly accrued by Frida’s chronic health issues caused by a near-fatal street car accident she suffered when she was 18 years old. 

The first floor of the museum is filled with Mexican folk art.

The first floor of the museum is filled with Mexican folk art.

Diego’s Dream Museum

If you’re visiting Kahlo’s home, be sure to hold on to your ticket, as it also includes admission to Rivera’s equally intriguing and less visited Museo Anahuacalli. The museum is located on the southern end of Coyoacán, about a 30-minute Uber ride from La Conchita Plaza, where Wally and I departed from after spending the afternoon exploring the area. 

The museum’s name is derived from Cemanahuac, the name used by the Aztecs to refer to their world. It’s Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs, for “the Place Surrounded by Water” a concept that paid homage to the swampy pre-Hispanic landscape of México. 

Diego and Frida purchased the parcel of land in the 1930s on the rocky and then underdeveloped lava deposit of El Pedregal colonia, or neighborhood. While working on a mural in America, Rivera was inspired by the Industrial Revolution, and envisioned a space where he and Kahlo could visit and contemplate their collection of pre-Hispanic artifacts. He spent every cent he could scrape together on acquiring these pieces, amassing over 50,000 in his lifetime. One of the stories told about his obsession involves his second wife, Guadalupe Marín, who ground up one of his prized figurines in a fit of anger and served it to him in a bowl of soup. 

Rivera obsessively collected local artifacts.

Rivera obsessively collected local artifacts.

Some of RIvera’s artifacts might have been acquired on the black market — maybe even this one, which Wally thinks looks like someone giving birth.

Some of Rivera’s artifacts might have been acquired on the black market — maybe even this one, which Wally thinks looks like someone giving birth.

Rumor has it that Rivera acquired more than a few of his artifacts on the black market. At the time, there weren’t any laws protecting the provenance of pre-Columbian antiquities, and for this reason, the market boomed amongst nationals and foreigners alike. However Rivera obtained his prized artifacts, it’s undoubtedly an impressive collection that reveals the reverence and curiosity he felt toward the past. An inscription by Rivera at the entrance to the museum reads, “I hereby return to the people what I could rescue from the artistic heritage of their ancestors.”

Jaguars were worshipped as gods by the ancient peoples of Mexico.

Jaguars were worshipped as gods by the ancient peoples of Mexico.

Before he died in 1957 at the age of 70, Rivera bequeathed his artifacts and vision for a space to conserve and share the collection with the people of Mexico. The passion project was completed posthumously by his daughter Ruth Rivera, the financial support of his close friend and patroness Dolores Olmedo and architect Juan O’Gorman, using plans left by Rivera.  


olmedohouse.JPG

Visit Dolores Olmedo’s amazing estate and see more works by Frida and Diego


All are welcome at the Museo Anahuacalli.

All are welcome at the Museo Anahuacalli.

Like Entering a Temple

The imposing exterior of Anahuacalli is based upon a teocalli, a Mesoamerican temple standing on a truncated pyramid, rising dramatically from the edge of a broad, open plaza. Anahuacalli is sheathed entirely in black basalt, the igneous rock produced by the eruption of nearby Xitle, a volcano that destroyed the pre-Hispanic settlement of Cuicuilco that preceded Mexico City. 

A sign at the entry kiosk states:

En este establecimiento mercantil no se discrimina el ingreso a ninguna persona por motivos de raza, religión, orientación sexual o socioeconómica ni por ningún otro motivo.

This establishment does not discriminate against entry to any person on the basis of race, religion, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status or for any other reason.

Once inside, Wally and I immediately noticed a change in light and temperature; it was dim and cool, like the interior of a tomb. If the light seems gauzy it’s because the panels of the thin vertical windows aren’t made from glass but alabaster, creating an ethereal air of mystery. 

Gorgeous papel picado, or cut paper decorations hang above artifacts placed in niches.

Gorgeous papel picado, or cut paper decorations, hang above artifacts placed in niches.

There’s a large ofrenda, an altar to Rivera.

There’s a large ofrenda, an altar to Rivera.

One of our favorite displays on the ground floor was the impressive and brightly colored ofrenda, a traditional and allegorical offering dedicated to the deceased Rivera. Adorning the ofrenda are life-size papier-mâché folk art sculptures are known as alebrijes—the word these fantastical creatures were repeatedly chanting in vivid fever dream that the artisan Pedro Linares had. 

Ofrendas often have skeleton figures and food and other items the deceased enjoyed in life.

Ofrendas often have skeleton figures and food and other items the deceased enjoyed in life.

Whimsical papier-mâché folk art creatures called alebrijes came to their creator in a feverish dream.

Whimsical papier-mâché folk art creatures called alebrijes came to their creator in a feverish dream.

The exuberant colors of the figures and papel picado, cut tissue paper banners, are all the more striking against the volcanic stone. 

Admire the cut tissue paper flags before venturing into the depths of the temple-like museum.

Admire the cut tissue paper flags before venturing into the depths of the temple-like museum.

Narrow alabaster windows give the museum an otherworldly quality.

Narrow alabaster windows give the museum an otherworldly quality.

From the Underworld to the Heavens

A stairwell symbolizing the entrance to the Mayan underworld of Xibalba descends past bouquets of dried marigolds. These flowers guide spirits to their altars using their vibrant colors and pungent scent. 

Bright orange marigolds help guide the way for spirits to visit this world.

Bright orange marigolds help guide the way for spirits to visit this world.

Duke looks up at the dried marigolds that fill this stairwell.

Duke looks up at the dried marigolds that fill this stairwell.

The Anahuacalli’s three levels are bisected by dramatic stone staircases leading to galleries with vitrines and niches filled with Rivera’s personal collection of more than 2,000 Zapotec, Maya, Aztec, Olmec and Toltec idols and artifacts ranging from utilitarian to religious objects. 

Rivera collected about 50,000 pre-Hispanic artifacts.

Rivera collected about 50,000 pre-Hispanic artifacts.

One of Rivera’s wives supposedly ground up one of his idols and served it to him in soup.

One of Rivera’s wives supposedly ground up one of his idols and served it to him in soup.

Make sure to look up at the ceilings, which showcase mosaics based on Rivera’s designs and communist inclinations. Most were inspired by the mythological creatures of the Mesoamerican canon, with a hammer and sickle thrown in for good measure. One mosaic depicts a toad — Kahlo’s nickname for Rivera was El Sapo-rana, or Toad-Frog — fitting, as he was a large, portly man with bulging eyes. Incidentally, his birthplace, Guanajuato, loosely translates to the Place of Frogs. 

Look up! Most of the ceilings have murals made from different colored rocks.

Look up! Most of the ceilings have murals made from different colored rocks.

A woman gathers fruit in one ceiling mural.

A woman gathers fruit in one ceiling mural.

Rivera wasn’t subtle about his fondness for Communism.

Rivera wasn’t subtle about his fondness for Communism.

The light-filled second floor of the museum was originally envisioned as Rivera’s art studio and contains a number of monumental charcoal sketches and studies for several of his murals. One in particular, El Hombre en el Cruce de los Caminos (Man at the Crossroads), is a fresco originally commissioned in 1932 for the Rockefeller Center in New York, but later destroyed and unceremoniously chiseled off the wall for its unflattering portrait of Rockefeller and depiction of communism.

On the second floor, you can see sketches for Rivera’s murals.

On the second floor, you can see studies for Rivera’s murals.

Another large-scale piece, Pesadilla de Guerra, Sueño de Paz (Nightmare of War, Dream of Peace), was a portable mural painted in 1952 for the Twenty Centuries of Mexican Art exhibition that traveled to various European cities. Its creator sold the work, which was censored by the Mexican authorities, to China. Nobody knows for certain where it is today. 

Also among Rivera’s artworks is a childhood drawing of a choo-choo train. 

Although the Anahuacalli is filled with niches showcasing Rivera’s beloved artifacts, it must house only a fraction of his collection.

Although the Anahuacalli is filled with niches showcasing Rivera’s beloved artifacts, it houses only a fraction of his collection.

Some galleries host temporary exhibits.

Some galleries host temporary exhibits.

It’s also a space that hosts temporary exhibits and site-specific projects. While we were there in the fall of 2018, an exhibit titled Machama featured Adelia Sayeg’s sculptural ceramics. 

Dominating the second floor wall is an early rendering of Rivera’s famous Pesadilla de Guerra, Sueño de Paz mural.

Dominating the second floor wall is an early rendering of Rivera’s famous Pesadilla de Guerra, Sueño de Paz mural.

The circular piece in the center of the room was filled with small ceramic pieces by Adelia Sayeg.

The circular piece in the center of the room was filled with small ceramic pieces by Adelia Sayeg.

The museum’s interior embodies some of the same tenets as American architect Frank Lloyd Wright — specifically the concept of compression and release, with narrow stairwells and passageways opening abruptly into larger spaces. Rivera did meet with Wright in 1952 and consulted with him about the structure. 

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Here comes the sun: Keep winding your way up through the museum to end up on the rooftop.

You’ll be temporarily blinded as you step out of the dark confines of the museum onto the rooftop terrace. Like Duke, you can admire the view of CDMX.

You’ll be temporarily blinded as you step out of the dark confines of the museum onto the rooftop terrace. Like Duke, you can admire the view of CDMX.

Wally takes a break from a long day exploring the neighborhood of Coyoacán.

Wally takes a break from a long day exploring the neighborhood of Coyoacán.

You wind your way up, floor by floor, until you step out onto the rooftop terrace, open to the sky, boasting panoramic views of the city. The sun bathed the outlying area in golden light. It was a perfect end to an incredible day. –Duke

Wally and Duke are all smiles at this truly one-of-a-kind museum, which they can’t recommend enough.

Wally and Duke are all smiles at this truly one-of-a-kind museum, which they can’t recommend enough.

Anahuacalli Museum

Museo 150
San Pablo Tepetlapa
Coyoacán
04620 Ciudad de México
CDMX
Mexico

 

9 Fascinating Frida Kahlo Facts That May Surprise You

Overshadowed by her husband Diego Rivera, Kahlo led a too-short life fraught with pain, which she channeled into her powerful paintings.

A portrait of the unusual artist in 1939 by Nickolas Muray

A portrait of the unusual artist in 1939 by Nickolas Muray

It seems every famous artist is eccentric in their own way, and Frida Kahlo was no exception. She didn’t follow the rules, establishing herself as the negation of what a woman was expected to be. Her singular vision continues to inspire and capture the world’s imagination. Kahlo’s recognizable unibrow, boldly colored clothes and tempestuous marriage to muralist Diego Rivera are as central to her fame as her vivid and powerful self-portraits.

During the horrific accident, a shower of gold glitter landed on Frida’s bloody and broken body — making the macabre moment like something out of a magical realism novel.

While writing my post on the Blue House, or La Casa Azul, Kahlo’s former home, I learned more than a few surprising things. Why nine, you might ask? During their lifetimes, Kahlo and Rivera passionately assembled a collection of fantastical papier-mâché alebrijes, and I’d like to imagine hers as a cat with its metaphorical nine lives. So, without further exposition, here are nine interesting facts you might not have known about Frida Kahlo.

Talk about odd couples! Here’s Wedding Portrait of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera by Victor Reyes, 1929

Talk about odd couples! Here’s Wedding Portrait of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera by Victor Reyes, 1929

1. She and Diego proved that opposites really do attract.

Kahlo first met Rivera when he was commissioned by the government to paint the mural La Creación at the Bolívar Auditorium of the Escuela Nacional Preparatoria in 1922. Kahlo was one of only 35 females in a student body of 2,000 and belonged to a group of young intellectuals who called themselves Las Cachuchas, named after the peaked cloth caps they wore as a sign of subversion against the rigid dress code of the period. One account claims that she mischievously soaped the stairs leading to the auditorium where Rivera was working, hoping to make him slip and fall.

They met again in 1928 while he was working on a fresco for Mexico City’s Ministry of Education building. With paintings tucked under her arm, she demanded Rivera critique her work, telling him, “I have not come to you looking for compliments. I want the criticism of a serious man. I’m neither an art lover nor an amateur. I’m simply a girl who must work for her living.”

It was a May-December romance, as Rivera was about twice her age (as well as 200 pounds heavier). She was 22, he was 43. He had been married twice before. Kahlo once said, “I suffered two grave accidents in my life: one in which a streetcar knocked me down, and the other was Diego.”  

Frida paints Portrait of My Father, 1952, in her studio. Photo by Gisèle Freund

Frida paints Portrait of My Father, 1952, in her studio. Photo by Gisèle Freund

2. A horrific — but strangely beautiful — accident changed the course of her life.

In 1925, an 18-year-old Kahlo was riding a bus home from school with her boyfriend Alex Gómez Arias when it collided with an oncoming electric streetcar. A fellow passenger on the bus had been carrying a bag of gold dust, which was released upon impact and tore, a shower of gold glitter landing on the bloody and broken body of Kahlo — making the macabre moment like something out of a magical realism novel.

When onlookers saw her, they cried, “La bailarina, la bailarina!” mistaking her for a dancer.

The bed-ridden Frida Kahlo painting Portrait of My Family in 1950. Photo by Juan Guzmán

The bed-ridden Frida Kahlo painting Portrait of My Family in 1950. Photo by Juan Guzmán

The near-fatal accident left Kahlo bedridden for months and enduring lifelong complications that would fuel her intensely personal artwork, turning her deepest feelings and darkest moments into art.

What a deer! Frida With Granzino, Version 2 by Nickolas Muray, 1939

What a deer! Frida With Granzino, Version 2 by Nickolas Muray, 1939

3. Kahlo wasn’t able to have children, so she filled the void with exotic pets.

Kahlo was a great lover of animals and had an exotic menagerie at La Casa Azul. In many of her self-portraits she is accompanied by her favorite animals, including a pair of mischievous spider monkeys named Fulang Chung and Caimito de Guayabal. She also had Bonito, an Amazon parrot, who would perform tricks at the table for rewards of pats of butter, an eagle named Gertrudis Caca Blanca (Gertrude White Shit), hairless Xoloitzcuintli dogs and a fawn called Granzino.

These animals appeared in her work, including Self-Portrait With Monkey and The Wounded Deer, her face placed atop a deer’s body, probably Granzino’s, complete with antlers, running through a forest as nine arrows pierce its body.

Frida’s love of animals is evident in her Self-Portrait With Small Monkey from 1945

Frida’s love of animals is evident in her Self-Portrait With Small Monkey from 1945

Despite wanting to have offspring, Kahlo was unable to bear children and suffered miscarriages and medical abortions. Her inability to give birth became a source of trauma, and she said that her pets symbolized the children she never could have.

Many of Frida’s paintings were self-portraits, like Autorretrato from 1948

Many of Frida’s paintings were self-portraits, like Autorretrato from 1948

4. She’d most likely beat you in a staring contest.

Kahlo was her own most popular muse. Fifty-five of her 143 paintings are self-portraits, which is perhaps understandable when thinking about how much time she spent on her own while coping with a variety of chronic health issues. Her conjoined brows, plaited hair and watchful eyes fiercely demand that the viewer meet her gaze. And her defiant, upright posture was as much due to the immobilizing plaster corsets she was forced to wear to support her spinal column as it was her confidence.

Kahlo’s use of the intimate self-portrait often reflected her turbulent life and was a visual means to communicate her physical and psychological wounds.

Let’s take some time to reflect upon what an amazing woman Frida Kahlo was. Photo by Lola Álvarez Bravo

Let’s take some time to reflect upon what an amazing woman Frida Kahlo was. Photo by Lola Álvarez Bravo

5. She was her own brand ambassador.

Our sense of self is largely dependent on where we were born, where our family’s from and the people we choose to surround ourselves with. This was especially true for Kahlo with her distinctive sartorial style inspired by the traditional dress of the Tehuana, the independent and proud indigenous matriarchal Zapotec society in the state of Oaxaca. Kahlo’s mother was born in Oaxaca to an indigenous father and a mother of Spanish descent.

Her attire helped her craft an imaginative, colorful identity and typically included flamboyant rings adorning her fingers, a traditional square-cut blouse, the huipil, and a long wrap-around skirt, which allowed her to mask and distract from her physical injuries.

One can only imagine the sensation of Kahlo’s striking and exotic appearance when she arrived in the United States with Rivera. Her rejection of conventional fashion was unlike anything the people of San Francisco, Detroit or New York had ever seen. On a walk in NYC, a flock of children asked Kahlo, “Where’s the circus?” but she simply smiled graciously and continued walking.

The controversial The Suicide of Dorothy Hale by Frida Kahlo, 1939

The controversial The Suicide of Dorothy Hale by Frida Kahlo, 1939

6. She pushed boundaries and buttons.

Sometime in 1938, Kahlo was commissioned by Clare Boothe Luce, the writer of the all-female Broadway play The Women and a former managing editor of Vanity Fair magazine, to paint a recuerdo, a remembrance portrait of their mutual New York socialite friend and aspiring actress Dorothy Hale, who had recently taken her own life.

Luce presumed Kahlo would paint a conventional portrait of Hale. However, Kahlo wasn’t a fan of what she considered to be the bourgeois capitalist social scene of New York City and had a more cerebral vision in mind — to create a graphic retablo detailing Hale’s moment of death.

In the center of the painting, the building where Hale lived is depicted with its many small windows rising up behind a layer of feathery clouds. A tiny figure plummets from an upper window. In the middle ground is a larger falling figure, clearly Hale, her arms extended and her skirt billowing around her knees. Resting on the pavement in the foreground is the deceased Hale in the black velvet dress and yellow corsage she wore, her dead eyes frozen open and staring at the viewer. As if that wasn’t enough, the inscription literally bleeds into the bottom of the frame and reads, “In the city of New York on the 21st day of the month of October, 1938, at 6 o’clock in the morning, Mrs. Dorothy Hale committed suicide by throwing herself out of a very high window of the Hampshire House building. In her memory, this portrait was executed by Frida Kahlo.”

When Luce received the painting, she seriously considered destroying it, but was persuaded by friends to desist. The arresting and controversial work remained in storage for decades before being donated “anonymously” to the Phoenix Art Museum in 1960.

7. She arrived at her first solo exhibition in Mexico in an ambulance.

Kahlo’s first major solo exhibition was held at the Julien Levy Gallery in 1938 in New York City, and one year later, her works were part of a collective exhibition entitled Mexique, shown at the Galerie Renou et Colle in Paris. The French surrealist André Breton described her art as “a ribbon around a bomb.”

Due to declining health during her final years, Kahlo rarely ventured outside of the Blue House, and had to use a wheelchair and crutches to get around. In April 1953, her first solo exhibition in Mexico opened at the Galería de Arte Contemporáneo. At the time, Kahlo was on bed rest under doctor’s orders and not expected to attend. However, she made sure to be there, arriving by ambulance to a mystified crowd, ordering that her four-poster bed be moved into the gallery. She was brought in on a stretcher to the bed, where she was able to enjoy the event.

8. She made a most memorable exit from life.

Kahlo was transported to the crematorium at the Panteón Civil de Dolores, and her body was lifted out of the coffin and laid in a cart that would carry her along iron tracks to the cemetery. So desperate were people to have a memento of Kahlo that onlookers pulled at the rings on her fingers even as her body moved toward the crematorium fire. Witnesses who were in the small chamber containing the furnace claimed that a sudden blast of heat from the open incinerator doors caused Kahlo’s corpse to sit bolt upright, and when the flames ignited her hair, forming an aura around her face, her lips appeared to part in a grin just before the doors closed shut.

What the Water Gave Me by Frida Kahlo, 1938

What the Water Gave Me by Frida Kahlo, 1938

9. She was underappreciated as an artist in her lifetime.

Kahlo’s work was largely overshadowed by that of her husband during her lifetime. This was partly because the complexity of her art was difficult for an international audience to categorize. Kahlo’s most famous works, her autorretratos, or self-portraits, combine elements of realism, surrealism and indigenous Mexican symbolism.

Breton, an original member of the Dada group and the founder of the Surrealist movement in 1924, visited Kahlo in Mexico in 1938 while she was working on Lo Que el Agua Me Dio (What the Water Gave Me). Breton was transfixed by it, calling Kahlo a “natural surrealist.” Kahlo rejected the label and replied, “I never painted dreams. I paint my own reality.”

When Kahlo died at the early age of 47 in 1954, Rivera begged his friend and patroness of the arts, Dolores Olmedo to purchase 25 of Kahlo’s paintings for a mere $1,600. He wanted to make sure that an important part of his wife’s work remained in Mexico. –Duke

A sudden blast of heat from the incinerator caused Frida’s corpse to sit bolt upright. Flames ignited her hair, forming an aura around her face, and her lips parted into a grin just before the doors closed shut.