Intrepid Historian

Finishing Up in One Archive and a Weekend of Adventure

     I returned to the Fondos Reservados at UNAM Friday, July 31, and finished with the Molina manual. I then turned to a sixteenth-century volume of five books on architecture, Sebastiano Serlio Bolognese's Il libro d’architecttura, that was once owned by one of the convents in Mexico City (it was not quite clear on which). Serlio included numerous illustrations in each book, Book II especially had these great variations on what he called "comedic," "tragic," and "satirical" city- or townscapes. The "satirical" townscape was telling of what architects of his time found unappealing about rural verdant towns. The small wooden houses with thatched roofs seemed obscured by voluminous trees and overgrown bushes. I can not translate Italian or French (the volume is a side-by-side translation of his work), although I might have teased out something with images later. But, sadly, it was at this point in my time at the BNM that I discovered that I needed a separate request form for each item I wanted to photograph. Surely, the archive needs to protect the use and spread of these precious and rare documents, but a few shots couldn't get them into too much trouble, right?
     Understanding that I would need to transcribe the documents myself, thus adding hours to my study, I was even more frustrated to find the next fascinating document I wanted to consult: a letter written in Spanish, dated November 24, 1643, from the Viceroy to the Franciscan priests of Calpan and San Andrés Cholula, ordering them to let the indigenous celebrate their religious festivals in the convents. This document speaks volumes to the legal and efficacious reach of a couple of small indigenous communities under the Spanish crown and the Catholic religion. I'll have to investigate this further, and, with the valuable help of the archive manager, get digital copies at a later date--the paleography was too difficult to read without being able to zoom in, especially the correspondence that followed the decree. There are still a few other documents that might prove relevant, but that will ahve to wait. In the end, though I found myself frustrated at times during this first investigation at UNAM, I certainly have found helpful items to include in my future studies.

      As to this weekend, I spent Saturday researching, virtually and physically, the best/cheapest route to the AGN, the next, and hopefully more productive archive of this trip. Then, today, I toured the amazing grounds of the Castillo de Chapultepec. What an amazing experience. For all those interested, it's free to the Mexican public as well as students (foreign or domestic) on Sundays. When you finally surmount the hill that once had a placename glyph for the "place of the grasshoppers" or Chapulin ('grasshoppers) tepec (mountain place), you'll encounter amazing architecture, fantastic views of Mexico City, and an seemingly unending gallery (actually galleries) of items of national cultural significance in the Museo Nacional de Historia. Definitely a must see. Only a forest stroll away, the Museo Nacional de Antropologia (MNA) is just as amazing, but takes a good chunk of the day to really get informed. And, though I still haven't been, I want to mention the Museo de Arte Moderno that is also part of the complex. I suggest visiting over two days, but I know people see all three museums and the Castillo in one go, so it's completely doable. Anyway, here are a few of the images from my visit to the Castillo this afternoon.


The fantastic fresco that hauntingly falls upon you as you enter the Castillo. Note the ghastly US flag behind the falling boy hero. "Sacrificio de los Niños Héroes," by Gabriel Flores García (1970).

Mexican's love their history. On Sunday "Free day," in the smaller galleries, the crowds were barely tolerable, but their fascination with their history was heartwarming.

I would find this 3' tall snow-globe-looking diorama a bit hard to shake up.

Really making your mark. This relief likely sat on the side of a colonial building, the coat-of-arms would help knowleadgable passersby understand the pedigree of the owner. The interesting corner details (see below) and the plumed ring surrounding it would similarly allude to a pedigree, but one far removed from the other. It's likely that the sculpture was aware of both traditions.

Corner embellishment, close up. By carving the three ovular shapes and the plumed headband above into the four corners of this slab of stone, the author tied it to an ancient practice of anchoring the centerpiece, in this case the coat-of-arms, in a quincunx, or five-point design. Recent scholarship, including my own, has argued that these corner locatives establish a local or regional cosmogenic map.

Another relief, this one is dedicated to the Iglesia de San Francisco, according to the script on the band running across the globe at center. The artist has placed this globe, filled with an image of the colonial church, in the place of the cactus that the Mexica-Tenocha Nahuas used as part of their foundation story.

I love these old cartographic maps of the colonial city. Being a terrible historian, I failed to capture a good image of the script at top right or the information placard, which was likely posted nearby. I'll have to return soon to get a good idea of when this was produced and by whom.

More specifically, I love delving into their contents. Here, at center, the artist depicts the Cathedral Metropolitana, and, in the place of the Templo Mayor of the Mexica-Tenochca, the artist places a tianguis, or Nahua styled market.

Here, at center left (north of the Zocalo), we find the illustrious Colegio de San Francisco Tlatelolco, site of the modern-day Plaza de Tres Culturas. Now, follow me here because this is a stretch (and hard to see on this lower quality image, but the artist has painted a couple of blue-clad figures in the courtyard. Surely, they are Franciscan priests, and the paint has faded for brown, grey, or even black. Or, when we compare the hue to the same color of the vegetation to the right of the courtyard, we can determine that the two figures were wearing green. And, upon examining them closely, the artist appears to have give them feather banners. These figures are in fact wearing indigenous regalia. Makes sense. After all, they're standing in the courtyard of a school built to change them into Catholic subjects of the crown. But, in a way, the artist has frozen their presence their as non-Europeans forever. Perhaps the artist witnessed an indigenous performance there, a traditional expose put on by the Native students under the auspices of the Franciscan priests.

I really enjoyed this series of 3 portraits of Father Hidalgo.

He grows whiter and more wizened with each century. Sort of his mythic lot in life.

In the section marked as "Modernity," visitors are confronted with this vision of national technological advancement, the caption reads, "Joaquin Cantollo y Rico and his aerostatic globe [Antonio Gonzalez Orozco], and was painted in first half of the 20th century." That said, the actual use of hot-air balloons in Mexico (or what would eventually become the United States of Mexico) harkens back to at least the 1790s, as seen in late-colonial newspaper articles from the time.

Justo Sierra, one of the founders of the modern public education system.

The six Hero Boys (Niños heroes) of the Battle for Chapultepec. These statues stand in the area where the boys had their last stand against the US forces.

Where the Boys supposedly fell to their deaths. It doesn't look that far down, but it's certainly far enough to kill someone. I nearly died climbing that behemoth.

While standing before the Hero Boys and contemplating giving up for the day, and beginning to descend without finishing the tour, I noticed this large butterfly sitting on the far right soldiers shoulder. Before I could take a picture, it fluttered off, over the center gallery that segments the two larger galleries. I thought I ought to follow it. Reaching the other side, expecting to have missed this little visitor, I was pleased to find it waiting for me. I'm calling it "warrior's spirit" in an overly sentimental way to connect the Hero Boys to the Nahua belief in butterflies as the energies of recently dead warriors.