On My Own in México

On my second day in Mexico City, I was eager to explore on my own and to cover as much territory on foot (or by Uber) as possible. The logical place to begin was back at the Zocalo. I decided to make the Metropolitan Cathedral my first stop. This soaring structure dates back to 1573, shortly after the Spanish conquest of Tenochtitlan. It’s not an accident that the cathedral stands on the site of a former Aztec temple. Construction took nearly 250 years to complete. This explains its mixture of styles – Gothic, Baroque, Churrigueresque (a sort of ultra-Baroque originating in Spain), and neo-classical. 

The Baroque Tabernacle (Sagrario), set to the right of the main part of the cathedral, was beautifully light-filled. 

The cathedral is famous for its many noteworthy altarpieces. In my Latin American art history class, I’d seen pictures of the Altar of the Kings. This lavishly decorated work was designed by Jeromino de Balbas in the early 1700s. It contains carved and painted figures of kings who were canonized by the Roman Catholic Church. 

While I could appreciate the incredible workmanship of the gilded altarpiece, I found it impossible to ignore all that I’d learned recently about the conversion forced on the indigenous population by the Spanish missionaries.

A short distance in front of the Altar of the Kings, I stopped to look carefully at a pendulum suspended from high above. It shows how the foundations of the cathedral have shifted over the past 500 years. This is because the building sits on a lake bed. 

Another interesting altarpiece in the main cathedral was the Altar of Forgiveness, consecrated in 1656. According to some research I did later, this is where people condemned by the Spanish Inquisition were brought to ask forgiveness before they were executed. Such a chilling thought, and a painful reminder of the horrors of that episode in history. 

Fortunately, the 16^th century National Palace, also located on the Zocalo, didn’t arouse such negative feelings. Once the home of the conquistador Hernan Cortes, the massive hulking structure was built on the site of the palace of the Aztec ruler Moctezuma. The National Palace now houses offices of the executive branch of the government. But the real attraction for tourists is the collection of murals by Diego Rivera and, to a lesser extent, other 20^th century Mexican artists. 

Although I’d seen photos of Rivera’s murals and had studied a few of them in my art history class, I wasn’t prepared for the impact of seeing these monumental works in person. A very large triptych in the main stairwell depicts the history of Mexico from 1521 to 1935. In addition, several Rivera murals showing pre-Hispanic scenes adorn the interior walls facing the courtyard on the second floor. 

A short walk from the Zocalo brought me to the beautiful Palacio de Bellas Artes, set on the edge of the Alameda Central. This cultural center hosts performances of music, dance, theatre, and opera and has held important exhibitions of painting, sculpture and photography. After admiring the Art Nouveau and neo-classical exterior of the building, I stepped into the Art Deco interior in search of more murals. Once again, I found impressive works by Rivera and fellow artists David Siqueiros and Rufino Tamayo. 

Of particular interest to me was the Rivera mural known as Man at the Crossroads (or Man Controller of the Universe). It was originally created as a commission for New York’s Rockefeller Center in 1933. However, the Rockefellers were displeased with the work because Rivera included a figure of Lenin and a Soviet May Day parade. When he refused to remove the offending images from the work, the Rockefellers paid Rivera and then had the mural destroyed. Fortunately, Rivera had made sketches and was able to recreate the work in Mexico City in 1934. 

I was so enamored of Rivera’s work that I returned to the historic center on another day to see more of his murals in a government building occupied by SEP, the Ministry of Education, located just a block or so north of the Zocalo. In fact, this building contains the most extensive collection of Rivera murals in México. I could easily have spent an entire day marveling at the 235 panels which comprise Rivera’s first large-scale mural project. Thematically, the murals focus on Mexican history and culture, with several panels devoted to workers (potters, weavers, sugar cane workers, etc.) and the Mexican Revolution. It’s an incredible national treasure, and quite understandably, a popular destination for school field trips. 

Photograph of the artist Diego Rivera

For a completely different experience, I took an Uber one morning to reach Coyoacan, a section of México located about 7.5 miles south of the Zocalo. At one time, Coyoacan was an independent municipality and it has retained its distinctive bohemian personality. On weekends and on festivals, crowds throng the two main plazas and the Jardin del Centenario Park. Restaurants, casual eateries, and souvenir and handicraft shops surround the plazas. Even on the relatively quiet weekday of my visit, there were plenty of musicians and vendors selling hats, toys, ice cream, drinks, etc. 

For tourists, Coyoacan offers a number of attractions, many related to 20^th century artists. I made sure to reserve a ticket ahead of time to visit the home of Frida Kahlo. Known as La Casa Azul (the Blue House), the rambling concrete building is painted a vibrant shade of blue. Frida was born in La Casa Azul in 1907 and died there in 1954. She lived in the house for several years with her husband, Diego Rivera. During their marriage, their home was often filled with their Marxist friends, such as Leon Trotsky, who spent two years as a houseguest of Frida and Diego. 

It was fascinating to see Frida’s studio and the bedroom with the mirror hanging over her bed, which allowed her to paint during the many months when she was bedridden. The house and gardens contain artwork by the couple, as well as examples of pre-Columbian and folk art from Diego Rivera’s massive collection. 

Frida's last painting, Viva la Vida