Viva la revolución

Monumento a la Revolución, a.k.a, the Monument to the Revolution

The extra-long weekend getaway to Mexico City ends in Revolution. The Mexican Revolution.

Here's your brief Mexican history lesson. The Mexican Revolution was fought from 1910 to 1920. It essentially was a civil war against an entrenched elite who held onto power through a process that had a thin veneer of democracy. Mexican independence from Spain happened about a hundred years earlier in the 1820's. Mexico successfully fought a war against France in the 1860's, victory in that war being achieved on May 5. Hence: Cinco de Mayo. A day gringos use a victory in a non-critical war as an excuse to drink muchas margaritas and weak, flavorless Mexican beer.

You can't just wander the underground part of the monument willy-nilly. Or Guillermo-Nillermo, which I believe would be the Spanish language translation. But look closer at the sign to the left.

No entry if you are wearing a sombrero? (Thank God I left mine back at the hotel.) You are prohibited from entering if you are dressed in stereotypical Mexican garb? (Thank God I was dressed as a gringo turista.)

Back to the regular programming. Construction began on the Monument in 1910, with this supposedly being a monument to the centennial of Mexican independence. But events got in the way. Construction was not completed until 1938, at which point it was rechristened Monumento a la Revolución, the Monument to the Revolution, recently ended, rather than independence, a distant memory.

Underneath the monument is a small museum about the monument.

It doesn't take long to walk through, even reading the exhibits, and at the end of the museum walk is this:

The elevator to the top, where an observation deck awaits.

And that is all the higher the elevator goes.

This is the top observation, which is open air.

The views are very nice. But they're open air.

Definitely should've done this earlier in the day when the sun was shining.

This the walkway. It sure could use a higher plexiglas barricade, don't you think?

All those people who've never been to Mexico City who, when they hear you are going to Mexico City, keep imploring you to "be safe," "be safe," "be safe," have two things legitimately in mind. Crossing a street in heavy Mexico City traffic. And that walkway right there.

At the top of the monument, on each corner, are statues gigante.

Here is the explanation, since the head-on view is not possible at this particular level of the Monument.

This is a lower observation deck. Oh, did I tell you, you take the elevator up, but you walk the stairs down. Not as knee-unfriendly, however, as you would fear. But still not ADA accessible. 

And here's another of the corner statues gigante:

And the explanation of what you are sort of seeing (in profile) on plexiglas.

As you start climbing down, there are some exhibits to see. This is an exhibit about the sculptor of these statues gigante: Oliverio Martinez.

That's Mr. Martinez on the left, with the head of one of his statues.

This is a photograph of the piecing together of these statues gigantes.

And meet the project's architect.

Carlos Obregón Santacilia. On the left. That's the monument on the right.

And here is the interior stairwell that I've neglected to show you:

After been inside, and seeing the exhibits, especially the ones about Mr. Martinez and his sculptures gigantes, the corner statues really pop out in a way that they did not before:

 

Let's use the camera's close up zoom feature to get a closer look at one of the statues:

A very nice way to end an extra-long weekend getaway to Mexico City. Flights are cheap. The food is beyond awesome. There's a ton of things to do. I could see myself making another trip here. ¡Viva la revolución!

Two Markets

It tastes -- and smells -- as good as it looks

On the agenda for the final day in Mexico City this trip: two markets. One for food. One for what is billed as "artisanal crafts."

The walk there was half of the fun.

It was a beautiful sunny morning, with an almost certain chance of afternoon thunderstorms. So what did I do? Slept in. But only after I got my breakfast pastries and coffee at El Globo. Then, when it was getting close to the time for the thunderstorms to roll in, I wandered the area.

I stumbled on this: 

I love a good clock tower in the middle of an intersection. So, of course, I loved the Reloj Chino de Bucareli. The Chinese Clock of Bucareli. The north-south street at this intersection is Bucareli.

To get to both of the two markets, I made a right turn at Reloj Chino and, soon enough, found a park with statues and fountains. Parque de la Ciudadela. Park of the Citadel.

I love a park with statues and fountains ALMOST as much as I like a good clock tower in the middle of intersection. It's close. But the clock tower will always win that battle due to the rarity factor. Every city of any consequence has a park with statuary. But how many of those cities have clock towers in their traffic intersections? Case closed.

This statue in the middle of the fountain is Ángel de los Aviadores.

Angel of the Aviators. Not sure why here in particular. But aviators are entitled to angels wherever they can find them.

And this is Morales.

Star attraction of the park.

Morales is looking decidedly less Botero-esque than he was in Cuernavaca. BTW, as the kids would text, I think this is called Park of the Citadel because it used to be adjacent to a military school. I think.

And the buzzing of the google maps on the phone means I have arrived at Market #1: Mercado de San Juan. The food market. 

It smelled awesome. Well, except for the fresh fish section. There actually was more floor space here devoted to meat than vegetables and I wasn't in the mood to photograph animal carcasses. Delicious though they may be. There even was a large Asian section. There also were a number of restaurants on the premises.

Labrador retrieved approved.

I did not find what I was looking for here: Mexican vanilla. So on to the artisanal market it is.

Market #2: Mercado de Artesanías La Ciudadela.

Need a guitar?

While there was an over-abundance of stalls selling cheap souvenirs -- probably made in China and not locally -- there was some legitime artisanal crafts, such as the guitars. Lots (and lots) (and lots) of jewelry. Pottery and porcelain. There even was a shop selling those Mexican tile tin mirrors that I love. I almost pulled the trigger but worries over transport killed that idea. Next time. When I bring a bigger suitcase.

And when I left the second market, the skies clearly had darkened.

What time is it? The clock on the tower of the intersection says it is time for the skies to open up and for the afternoon thunderstorms to begin. The clock was right.

Touring the Museo Franz Mayer

 

Santiago Matamoros, horseback, in wood, inside the Museo Franz Mayer

After the Palacio de Belles Artes, it was time for the nearby Museo Franz Mayer. This is a quirky museum inside an old church, on the edge of the historic core of Mexico City.

Let's go inside.

There is a small courtyard to the left of the entrance.

Same courtyard, from the second floor balcony.

Google maps describes the museum as an "international collection of 16th and 19th Century decorative arts, including silverware and textiles." It is that. But there is more to it than silverware and textiles.

This is the library.

It's small and us visitors cannot access the books held within. I could find no explanation for the giant yellow "Q" hanging from the ceiling.

Onto the silverware and textiles and other decorative arts from the 16th and 19th centuries.

This is a depiction of two Roman soldiers fighting over Christ's vestments:

I'm not a "look at furniture in a museum" sort of person, but if you're going to have furniture in a museum, the furniture should look like this:

Or this:

I'd take either one.

Or this room divider screen:

I like room divider screens. I used to want one, but I couldn't find one that was I pictured in my head. Room dividers screens were sort of the cubical walls of their day, their day being a few hundred years ago. You can change room shapes easily, as needed, without worrying about knocking down load-bearing walls.

Moving from the decorative arts to just plain "art":

"La muerte de San Agustín." The death of St. Augustine, although, when you look close -- sacrilege alert -- it looks more "dinner on the corpse of St. Augustine."

I will put up the temporary divider screen before moving into drawings.

Separation made. This next one is "The Flagellation of Christ."

It's by German artist Albrecht Dürer. He lived from 1471 to 1528, so this puts the "16th Century" in the label for the collection at this museum.

That is from Pieter Brueghel. It dates from 1558, so, again, 16th Century. It's part of a series. This is from the same series:

This is a Rembrandt:

Even as a drawing you can see that strange effect that Rembrandt's works have, where the subject looks back-lit. Even the drawing has the foreground with that same back-lighting effect.

And we will end the drawings/prints with this one. The artist is Johannes Stradanus. Previously unfamiliar. The work is titled "America."

Because in 1600 Europeans thought "America" was just a bunch of naked ladies lying around in hammocks, I guess.

Back to the decorative arts. Chairs. Here are five chairs representing five European powers at the time.

England. France. Portugal.

Portugal (redux). Italy. Austria-Hungary.

These chairs accurately depict their countries at that time. England; sturdy and solid, but not comfortable. France: ornate and showy. Austria: practical but attractive. But the best design, without a doubt:

Italy. Beautiful. But of course it's not practical. Italian design never is.

And here are some fancy-fancy clocks from England:

And here is Santiago Matamoros.

Translation: St. James the Moor-Slayer. Matamoros? Matar = to kill.  Moros = Moors. Put the two together and you get?

This is titled: "trinidad antropomórfica." Anthropomorphic trinity. The Holy Trinity depicted in human -- anthropomorphic -- form.

The son -- on the left which puts him at the right hand of the father -- with a lamb. The Holy Spirit with an angel. Father in the center.

Onto the silverware!

So much silver. So much of it made in the silversmith shops of Taxco.

This is a depiction of St. Michael the Archangel battling (and defeating) Satan:

And here is a silver fox (in the mirror) taking a picture of a silver dinner service:

Silver cat.

Kind of emaciated looking.

And here is a silver fish.

I thought silverfish were something else.

And here is the founder of the museum himself:

Franz Mayer-Traumman. Not in silver.

Exterior shot of the Franz Mayer museum:

And that was enough museum-ing for the day. Two museums in one day is sufficient museum-ing.

Here is a fountain in nearby Alameda Park filled with wet children:

Foreshadow.

I was walking around this area, soaking in the sights and the atmosphere, and the afternoon thunderstorms that had been in the forecast every day of this trip, finally came. The skies open up and it was a drenching downpour. Soon as I was as soaked as the kids in the fountain.