And you thought Once was a mess today :-) Photo by Benito Panunzi, circa 1867, part of the Colección Carlos Sánchez Idiart.

As 2001 came to an end, it was almost time to celebrate my one-year anniversary of moving to Buenos Aires. I’ll be the first to admit that I was slow in coming to terms with some of the quirks of Argentina. But I was about to learn more than I bargained for.

After the establishment of the corralito, everyone knew bad times were ahead. And messing with people’s income is a sure way to get the public irritated. However the only visible sign of the impending crisis was the bad attitude that almost everyone carried around like a huge weight. Perfect time to learn a new bit of Argentine slang: cara de culo or assface. No further explanation required. Short tempers prevailed along with many bad comments about the government… a perfectly normal reaction to the events of the past few months.

Outside the city, things were changing more rapidly. Looting of supermarkets and a few riots took place, mainly in the southern suburbs of Buenos Aires. Some of it was spontaneous and some of it was “sponsored” by the Peronist party that wanted to get De La Rúa out of office. Political parties in Argentina are known to pay people to demonstrate, make a show of public support, or do whatever is asked of them. Regardless, news coverage of these events brought to mind Alfonsín-era hyperinflation… nothing pleasant. After several consecutive days of suburban problems, looting spread to the city itself & the President announced that he would make a televised speech on December 19th.

Since televised public addresses aren’t that common in Argentina, everyone seemed anxious to see what he would say. As the speech was set for 21:00, I knew I had time for my regular evening walk around Caballito. I used to take frequent walks mainly to escape from the small apartment, get a little exercise and check out my barrio. After walking only a few blocks, I could tell something was going on. It was a typically hot and humid December evening, but people were more pissed than usual. Everyone had this vibe of irritability just waiting to explode. Although it sounds like I put this together with the benefit of hindsight, I distinctly remember coming home from my walk and telling Fabio that there was something strange in the air.

21:00 and the sun had just set. The President spoke briefly, informing the public that due to increased criminal activity a state of emergency would exist indefinitely from that moment. What?! Give the police free reign to do anything they want? Were there enough lootings to justify such a radical measure? My thoughts raced between, “we’re fucked” to “damn, this is exciting.” How many people get to witness dramatic political change on this scale? Apparently I wasn’t the only one to think the situation was fucked up. Within minutes of ending the address, Fabio and I began to hear noise outside. People were out on their balconies, banging away with whatever they could find. As more heard the clamor, more joined in. Passing cars began honking their horns in support.

I understood what all the racket meant because it had happened a couple times in the previous week. Fabio explained that it was a form of public protest, non-violent in nature, that originated during the last days of Alfonsín. The cacerolazo allows people to let off steam, make their disapproval heard, and get on with their lives. At least that’s what had happened previously. Fabio went out on the balcony to add to the noise, and I didn’t think much of it. After all, I was a foreigner living in Argentina without a visa & my money wasn’t locked in the bank. And if things got really bad, I could always leave. So what right did I have to join in the protest? I’m trying to decide what to do when it occurs to me that it won’t last long so it doesn’t really matter anyway. Previous cacerolazos had ended after about ten minutes. This time was different. Fifteen minutes go by & instead of dying out, it gets louder. Thirty minutes. Louder. Forty-five minutes & Fabio and I notice that people are leaving their apartments and taking the protest to the streets. People are in the middle of the streets, blocking traffic, and they’ve brought their pots and pans with them. You can make a LOT of noise with a pot and a wooden spoon. Try it at home.

By this time, I had come to the conclusion that the person I love & my newest friends had been unfairly affected by government decisions, so why not protest? I was a bit stressed by the situation too – not knowing whether I would be able to get money from any ATM and not having a cash backup to help in the worst case scenario. My income wasn’t in jeopardy, but I was far from living comfortably. So we go down to the corner and join in with the rest. At that time, we lived only one block from the major intersection of Avenida Rivadavia and Avenida La Plata. Over the next few hours, traffic came to a complete halt. At most intersections, trash bags and bins had been piled up and a few set on fire. That was enough to persuade people to stop driving. All the time, more and more people came down to protest. I’d never seen anything like that before. It was completely spontaneous, non-violent, and mainly middle-class. To add spice to the banging of pots and pans, certain slogans were repeated especially: el pueblo, unido, jamás será vencido… another reminder of Alfonsín days. Everyone in Caballito had had enough, and they needed to voice their opinions.

As the evening progressed and the protest didn’t show any sign of diminishing, Fabio and I began to see small groups of two to twenty people walking down Avenida Rivadavia towards the center of town. Avenida Rivadavia more or less bisects Buenos Aires into north and south and begins in Plaza de Mayo at the Casa Rosada. Everyone was going there. We lived at the 4700 block of Rivadavia which equals 47 city blocks from the center. Fabio wanted to start walking, thinking that we wouldn’t get any farther than Once at the 2800 block. As a huge public square, it was a logical place for the police to set up a barricade if they wanted to stop protests from spreading. But as of yet, we had seen no police intervention and from period trips to the apartment to check local tv coverage of events, nothing other than lots of making noise had occurred. So off we marched.

It appeared that everyone had the same idea. As we were to find out later, there were basically three columns of people marching towards the center: from the north along Avenidas Santa Fe and Córdoba, from the center along Avenida Rivadavia and from the south along Avenidas Independencia and San Juan. I really didn’t know how far we’d actually go but it seemed like a good idea to me and we were all caught up in the moment. It was emotional for me, to say the least. I had heard everyone bitch and complain about the situation for months and finally action was being taken. And it wasn’t the elite or the poor who were paid to demonstrate. It was people I could identify with. As we marched towards Once, I remember looking at everyone’s relief while they chanted, “Cavallo is a son of a bitch! Step down, De La Rúa!” I remember looking at old ladies out on their balconies at 01:00 banging on their pots and pans, cheering the people who were walking to Plaza de Mayo. Most of all, I remember thinking that something like that would NEVER happen in the United States of 2001, War on Terror or no.

To our surprise, Once was only full of protestors and no police. So we kept on marching along with everyone else & reached Plaza de Mayo around 01:30. We were some of the first to arrive because although the Plaza was full, it wasn’t packed with people. Walking toward the Casa Rosada, we saw a barricade had been erected and a single row of police guarded the presidential office. That was about it. Fabio and I laughed as we looked at the pan we could never use again. Searching for a spot to rest, we managed to find a little bit of grass right next to the CNN camera crew. They were just standing by idly, watching everyone continue to make noise, with the camera off and resting on the ground. I guess it wasn’t interesting enough to film a peaceful protest.

After walking almost 6 km, I was beginning to think, “Ok, we made it. Now what?” We didn’t have to wait long. First we heard that Domingo Cavallo had resigned as Economic Minister. So much for his Nobel Prize. There had been a large group of protestors concentrated outside of his residence for hours. Part of the battle had been won. But suddenly I saw the CNN guys pick up the camera and start rolling. What was going on? As I scanned the plaza, I saw tear gas canisters being shot by the police from the northeast corner right into the middle of the square.

As canisters flew, a mass of people in wave motion evacuated that corner of the square. Evidently someone had harassed the police too much. Fabio and I managed to get tear gassed along with pretty much everyone else. We retreated to a side street, covered our faces with our t-shirts & decided to head home. Fabio gave good advice. He said that the police could easily take advantage of a small disturbance, break into businesses themselves, create havoc and later say that the public got out of control and shift the blame. I had been in Argentina long enough to know that this was definitely possible. So we left Plaza de Mayo. But there were thousands of people who were still arriving that hadn’t heard about Cavallo and that hadn’t seen the police tear gas anyone. We walked part of the way back and managed to find a taxi on the back streets to take us home. We went to bed sometime after 03:00 with protests still in full swing.

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Ten years later, I still consider that evening a defining moment in my life. Not because I thought Argentina would suddenly develop a new-found sense of civil society & the future would be radically different. It was more personal. I’d spent the last year fairly insulated, learning how to be a tour guide, getting to know new destinations in Europe, & hadn’t paid too much attention about what was going on in my own backyard. December 2001 changed that. Very few people were blogging at the time, but through a free website I started writing about what was happening in Argentina. My exploration of BA began in earnest then, which developed into guiding tours in BA & eventually morphed into Endless Mile… Never would have expected it.

Leaving Constitución, train tracks cut through a bit of an excavated area before leveling out, then are elevated on approaching the Riachuelo. An small bridge (Ituzaingó, 1200 block) imported from the Liverpool firm Francis Morton & Co., Ltd. is unique & gives great views of passing trains:

Just before leaving Buenos Aires, the train stops at Estación Hipólito Yrigoyen (Juan Darquier, 900 block)… an unexpected bit of Art Nouveau with wide open surroundings often used in film productions:

Barracas is home to several substations formerly belong to the Compañía Italo-Argentino de Electricidad. Regular readers already know of my particular fascination with these Italianate brick structures. For exact locations, consult my Google Map archive. Some examples are below:

Everyone seems to love a Masonic lodge, & the local “Hijos del Trabajo” (San Antonio 814) has been standing since 1884. Recently renovated, tours are occasionally given but I’ve yet to make it inside:

With lots of Masonic symbolism but fulfilling a different purpose was the Casa del Pueblo, former branch office for the Partido Socialista (Alvarado 1963). When I walked by in 2008, the building had been acquired by a community-run day care center. The woman I talked to said they planned to maintain the original façade. That’s a relief. But I don’t think any maintenance has been done to the exterior since these photos were taken (apologies about the quality… was a crappy day to take pics):

Probably the most remarkable find during my entire exploration of Barracas was a billboard from Perón’s second term (opposite Guanahani 120). Uncovered by decades of erosion, large letters urge readers: Apoye el 2º Plan Quinquenal… Support the 2nd Five-Year Plan. When anti-Peronistas went to such great lengths to erase all traces of Perón, it’s amazing that this could resurface in the 21st century:

Unfortunately, the billboard has since been painted over… ironically by Kirchner supporters, no doubt celebrating a new wave of Peronism. But the lesson I learned from covering the entire barrio is that Barracas is full of surprises. Go see for yourself & discover a very different Buenos Aires.

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Barracas series: Divisions • Industrial • Residential • Services • Odds & Ends

Large tracts of land not occupied by factories gave the city space to establish hospitals. Most were built in the neighboring barrio of Parque Patricios, but a few crept into Barracas. This was back when hospitals were built as a series of pavilions to allow light & air to reach patients, & all these compounds still exist today… some with lush gardens unexpected in this part of town. And exactly why Macri wanted to move the city government offices there. That plan seems to have been put on hold.

The Hospital Rawson, originally created to care for returning soldiers from the War of the Triple Alliance & home to the pioneering Finochietto brothers, is in sad shape these days. Part of the complex is now a senior citizens’ home. In about the same condition is the adjacent psychiatric hospital. There are two actually, separating men & women. The hospital with the best reputation in the neighborhood is the Hospital Británico:

With so many hospitals, there must be a pharmacy or two. The most luxurious is the 1897 Farmacia Iriarte (Avenida Iriarte 2200) preserving its original wood interior & lots of old glassware:

To complete public health offerings, the Instituto Nacional de Microbiología (Avenida Vélez Sarfield 564) boasts a number of pavilions & water towers:

Religious services are provided by a number of churches & synagogues. The gigantic Basílica del Sagrado Corazón de Jesús (Avenida Vélez Sarfield 1351) is best appreciated from Parque Leonardo Pereyra across the street, while the Templo de Santa Lucía (Avenida Montes de Oca 850) is dwarfed by surrounding buildings. The interior is luxurious & surprisingly patriotic. The Iglesia de Santa Felicitas (Plaza Colombia) has a sad love story behind its construction… much to the chagrin of its priests. Don’t miss the gorgeous Neo-Moorish Sinagoga Or Torah (Brandsen 1444) & sneak a photo when the guard isn’t looking. Back in 2007 I stumbled upon a synagogue for sale (Rocha 1467), but I haven’t been back to see what became of it:

A branch of the Salvation Army has been painted to fit in with nearby Pasaje Lanín:

Many schools are scattered through Barracas. A particular favorite is the Escuela Superior de Comercio de la Nación, Sección Sud (Avenida Martín García 874) for its French-inspired architecture:

Sports facilities offered by the Club Atlético Barracas Central are a bit hidden, tucked in behind the Estación Buenos Aires & next to Villa 21-24:

Surely there are more services than I’ve posted here, but hopefully this series of posts inspires more people to revalue this fantastic part of Buenos Aires!

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Barracas series: Divisions • Industrial • Residential • Services • Odds & Ends

Admiral Guillermo Brown‘s palatial residence did not survive, but an abused granite monument marks the spot (Avenida Martín García 584):

Sculptor Julio Vergottini lived in a mini-castle on the banks of the Riachuelo. Hardly an enviable spot, it’s still a private residence (Viejo Puente Pueyrredón & Lavadero):

The Díaz Vélez mansion, adorned with lions, has been under restoration for many years (Avenida Montes de Oca 110):

The one touristy thing everyone knows in Barracas is Pasaje Lanín, a series of houses painted in wild patterns under the direction of Marino Santa María:

At the very limit of Barracas along Avenida Caseros (basically from Parque Lezama to Plaza Constitución), a concentration of nicely preserved units surprises most people. Two of my favorites are what I call the “bee building” (Caseros 954) & the railroad management units (Caseros, 400 block):

Another fave is the 1923 Barrio Monseñor Espinosa which was part of a public housing program. More about this beautiful spot at my other blog, Housing for the Masses:

Many houses have fallen into disrepair, but finding a gem is like getting lucky in a scavenger hunt. There’s really no other facet of Barracas that shows off its once elegant past:

Modern development has managed to creep into Barracas, usually under the guise of refurbishing warehouses into overpriced lofts. But a few highrises can be found as well. The Solares de Montes de Oca (at 587) are surprisingly out of place. Neighborhood watch groups like Proteger Barracas do a wonderful job of monitoring for any of these “space invaders” & help limit their construction.

Of course, the other end of the spectrum is also present in Barracas. The banks of the Riachuelo are home to some of the largest villas (shantytowns) in Buenos Aires. I made it to the entrance of Villa 21 & even though it didn’t appear all that dangerous, I wasn’t about to press my luck:

And although it may seem like part of a villa, the complex on Calle Australia dates from 1889. Housing for workers on the Ferrocarril del Sur (workshops used to be in Barracas before moving to Remedios de Escalada), the site is in rather poor condition. But it has become a neighborhood icon & drawn by every architecture student. Fascinating that it’s still standing… barely:

The residential character of Barracas surprised me most when I was covering every block on foot. There’s a mix of everything from the glamourous past to the destitute future & is every flâneur’s dream come true.

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Barracas series: Divisions • Industrial • Residential • Services • Odds & Ends

Probably its most defining characteristic, factories & warehouses can be found scattered all around Barracas. Everywhere. There’s no escape.

According to James R. Scobie‘s classic work “Buenos Aires: Plaza to Suburb, 1870-1910,” there was a concentrated effort to move industry south after 1890. Occasional fires & the reliance on soft coal from Cardiff & Glasgow for producing electricity & steam prompted city officials to move risky/dirty business as far away from populated areas as possible.

Production in Barracas continued for 50 years until a 1940′s plan moved most factories further away, outside city limits. However a few factories still survive. Large warehouses also remain, but many have been converted into the terminal station for city & intercity bus lines. With large numbers of bus drivers, mechanics, management, & staff working in Barracas daily, they have to eat lunch… so parrillas pop up everywhere. A weekday, lunchtime visit to these areas counter the Riachuelo with much more pleasant aromas of grilled steak.

Below are some of the more outstanding examples of industrial architecture in Barracas, along with their addresses so they’re easy to find.

Barracas Central (Lanín 200) – now expensive lofts:

Bagley cookie & cracker factory (Avenida Montes de Oca 169) – now expensive lofts #2:

Águila chocolate factory (Herrera 897) – now a hardware store:

Quaker (Eduardo Arolas 2150) – a bit of Americana still functioning:

Alpargatas factory complex (Avenida Regimientos de los Patricios 1001) – split between Barracas & La Boca, most of the buildings have been sold off for use as storage or offices for the gas company:

Barraca Tarantola (San Ricardo 2015) – deserted but impressive:

Mármoles “Carlos Campolonghi” (Pedro de Luján 2840) – great signage:

Barraca NOCO (Lamadrid 1920) – empty but gorgeous:

Cruz de Malta (Avenida Martín García 464) – former maté warehouse used by HSBC since 2009:

Mercado Mayor de Pescado (Algarrobo 1050) – best stored building in all of Barracas, a former fish market now used as the Centro Metropolitano de Diseño (only photo not mine, found online ages ago):

Other random examples… so many to explore:

In spite of all the photos above, they are only a portion of the total. I’ll leave it to you to discover the printing presses for Clarín & La Nación, the Tan-Co factory, & the signage for the Depósito Ángel Vélaz. Get down south & explore!

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Barracas series: Divisions • Industrial • Residential • Services • Odds & Ends

Barracas is big. It’s bulky. And this southern barrio has a reputation for being bad. But it’s one of my favorite areas of Buenos Aires. Hopefully this series of posts will dispel some of the misrepresentations about Barracas & encourage people to explore it. I walked just about every block in Barracas back in 2007 & recently returned to see what’s changed. Quite a bit.

A smart way to understand any neighborhood is to focus on the physical factors which define & divide it. Barracas has more of these than most barrios in Buenos Aires; major avenues, highways, train tracks & even a river give it wide variety in both character & function. These dividing lines make Barracas difficult to pin down but also give it fantastic diversity. Here’s the lay of the land…

Avenues

Slicing through the northwest corner of Barracas, Avenida Amancio Alcorta cuts diagonally through the city’s grid plan. Although the avenue itself is often congested with container traffic, northern blocks are residential. Its character resembles that of neighboring barrios Parque Patricios & Constitución more than Barracas itself.

Avenida Regimiento de Patricios marks the western border of the neighborhood, separating Barracas from La Boca. Making a slow but steady drop toward the Riachuelo, reclaimed riverbank is easy to detect since houses & storefronts are elevated to prevent flooding. Walking on the sidewalk is laborious because of the many steps at intersections… only worth the trouble at the Alpargatas factory.

The main drag—Avenida Montes de Oca—gives Barracas a north-south orientation. Originally known as Calle Larga, it still connects the capital with the suburbs across the river. Lots of commercial & residential areas cluster around this main artery.

Avenida Martín García cuts diagonally through the grid. Formerly known as Camino de las Barracas & one of the first streets in the neighborhood, it was the only road which connected the tanneries, factories & warehouses of Barracas to the port in La Boca. This avenue was so important at one time that even Admiral Guillermo Brown lived along this street.

Highway

Autopista 1 built during the last military dictatorship runs parallel to Avenida Montes de Oca just two blocks west & effectively slices Barracas in two. This large scar on the urban landscape continuing south from Avenida 9 de Julio will never heal since over 15 blocks were completely demolished for its construction. The elevation to second story level also disrupts the view. Land underneath the autopista is semi-reclaimed, with sparse use as parking, safety schools, playgrounds & some green space. However the benefits are small compared to the visual, audio & real pollution.

Trains

Parallel to both Autopista 1 & Avenida Montes de Oca is the major Metropolitano train line, exiting Buenos Aires to the south. Constitución Station grandly presides over what has become an urban disaster: the plaza in front is in ruins, bus stops clog the view & the train itself has been run to ruin. But the effect of the train tracks on Barracas is less disturbing than the highway. To maintain a level track in spite of the dip toward the Riachuelo, tracks grow increasingly higher than ground level. Bridges crossing east-west streets are more than 100 years old & most of the space underneath the elevated tracks has been beautifully bricked. Formerly occupied by offices & warehouses, the train contributes an atmosphere that has been erased in most other parts of the city.

Estación Buenos Aires forms part of the Línea Belgrano Sur… easily forgotten since it doesn’t connect to any other line.

River

Finally, the Riachuelo River marks the entire southern limit of Barracas & Buenos Aires itself. Polluted, smelly & hazhardous to the city’s health, the river’s condition resulted from placing large numbers of factories in Barracas (as well as further downstream). Several bridges connect Barracas to Avellaneda just across the river. At one time, Avellaneda was a mere extension of the neighborhood named Barracas al Sud. The sight & smell of rotting ships with abadoned mills & factories in the background speak volumes about uncontrolled industrialization.

Barracas has undergone many major transformations & has been divided into many different sections along the way. But understanding these divisions should help make sense of a complex barrio. Over the next few posts, I’ll focus on various aspects of Barracas which are worth visiting. It takes some footwork but is definitely worth it. If you think tourists have a difficult time in Barracas, just think about city government officials who try to zone the area!

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Barracas series: Divisions • Industrial • Residential • Services • Odds & Ends

But as I learned more about Buenos Aires & its history, I kept returning to Plaza de Mayo—the place where so many important events took place—and always discovered something new. The last major refit was during the 1976-83 military dictatorship. Ah, so that explains those fountains. The cathedral kept being built & rebuilt. Ah, so that’s why it doesn’t stand out. Most importantly, there was no stone in the area to construct all those important Spanish institutions. Ah, so that’s why there’s no colonial architecture left. Adobe only lasts for so long.

Then I dug into the history of the Madres de Plaza de Mayo. Amazing stuff. And finding old photographs of the way it was & the buildings which once surrounded the plaza. Very revealing. I couldn’t neglect learning more about the Perón era with its massive demonstrations & attempted coups. And of course, I reflected on a very personal experience walking 45 blocks from my apartment to Plaza de Mayo on the evening of 19 Dec 2001 when an economic crisis brought Argentina to a standstill. Tear gas aside, that was an evening which changed my life.

Gradually my opinions about Plaza de Mayo began to change until I grew to love the place. Truly. Unfortunately the look of the plaza hasn’t changed much since my first visit… it’s still fairly unkempt & a barricade erected in 2001 ruins the spirit of Plaza de Mayo. But now I know exactly where to look for clues & how to interpret a place that has been the center of a nation since 1580. Over 430 years of history exist in Plaza de Mayo, & Endless Mile will help visitors understand what makes it so special… in spite of its rather lackluster appearance.

Update: PDF released 15 January 2012.

Imagine having a gigantic, empty space just waiting to be developed within the city limits. Not many opportunities like that come along, but during the last dictatorship (1976-83) an enormous tract of land in the southern section of Buenos Aires became the city’s newest amusement park.

Just one problem: it never brought in the expected crowds.

Compare the following aerial views from 1978 & 2004 to see just how desolate those 120 hectares once were:

A group of military personnel & civilians formed the Parques Interama corporation & won the bid to build the amusement park. Interama hired Richard Battaglia, who had spent 11 years at Disney & recently had gone solo, to design the park while Swiss company Intamin provided the rides. No expense was spared. At least U$S 100 million went into the project—probably more—and think what that was worth in the 1970s!

The jewel of the crown was a 200 m tall Torre Espacial, designed & built by Austrian firm Waagner-Biro… probably best known today for the new roof on the British Museum in London or the Berlin Reichstag roof. The Space Tower cost an estimated U$S 10 million alone, went horribly overbudget, & many say that it resembles a sword stuck in the earth. I can see it:

The amusement park opened in 1982 & one year later, management was turned over to the city government based on contract irregularities with Interama & bad debt. A projected IMAX theater was never built. Ultimately closed in 2003 because it was considered dangerous, the park was reopened in 2007 by interim mayor Jorge Telerman. Supposedly rides were to be restored, but the next mayor, Mauricio Macri, shut the rides down again in 2008.

For years I’ve wanted to explore such a controversial & unique space in Buenos Aires. It’s easy to arrive… take the E Line of the subway to the last stop, get the free transfer for the Premetro (an experience in itself) & hop off at the 8th stop in Villa Soldati. Piece of cake. It’s as if you’ve been transported somewhere else… definitely not the Buenos Aires most people know. And I was pleasantly surprised by what I found.

Rides sit unused & only one half of the park is currently open to the public. But there’s so much green it’s amazing. Birds are everywhere. And the Torre Espacial looks even better up close. The city government website claims that the elevator inside the tower runs on weekends, but the Saturday I went, it was shut down. Still yearning to see that panorama in person.

Legal troubles were initially resolved in 2000 with a settlement in favor of Interama, but a 2007 appeal overturned the original ruling. Even though partially reopened & wonderfully maintained, it still fails to attract crowds. It’s a shame.

Looking at this urban space as a park instead of a failed investment, I was reminded of a bit of local history: city officials built Parque Patricios as an alternative to the parks in Palermo in order to keep the lower classes away. How nice. The Parque de la Ciudad is even further south & surrounded by shantytowns, but I wonder how long it will be before those who live in the north discover this clean, pristine & unexpectedly green space… a bit of sweet retribution for those who live in the south :-)

Don’t be jealous… although you should be.

The Kavanagh is a Holy Grail to architecture buffs worldwide, & I scored a visit inside today. The building administration was adamant about not taking photos in public areas. Did I listen? We were chastised several times, & I wouldn’t want the person who granted us access to get into trouble. She lives there after all. But how could I resist?

My regular readers know I’m moving to Sydney soon–too soon it seems–and by an odd coincidence the father of my best friend’s partner just spent a week in Buenos Aires. He’s a big-time architect, so he toured lots of secret places in Buenos Aires including the restoration works in the Teatro Colón. We were scheduled to get together today, & he fortunately included me on a visit to the Kavanagh.

If you think it’s amazing from the outside, it’s just as spectacular inside. Imagine having your chauffeur drop you off at the revolving doors as you make a grand entrance:

Walking past a portrait of Corina Kavanagh, inset light fixtures lead you toward the lobby:

A rather dark space with original poofy, curved chairs & inset desks, the walls are covered with squares of thin leather. No kidding. Light enters both sides through fanfolds… one side is clear glass & the other is a mirror. The combined effect brings lots of light into an otherwise dark space:

The drive-thru entrance mentioned above is actually closed these days, probably to keep the interested public out. Everyday entrances are along the sides with light fixtures that resemble stretched slices of the building. How sexy is this:

The hallway which leads down the Plaza San Martín side of the building is covered in original wood with lots of mirrors, more beautiful glass light fixtures, & an etched glass mural. Not sure why they chose a northern Argentina desert scene, but it’s beautiful nonetheless:

At the end of the hallway is a decorative bust set into a niche—one of several on the ground floor level. And tucked away into a dead-end corner is a sculpted model of the entire building. It just makes you appreciate it even more:

From there, you’d take the appropriate Otis elevator to your apartment. Each apartment has its own private entrance via a separate elevator. What’s cool is that the grill doors close automatically… quite an innovation for 1936:

Stepping out of the elevator is a small square space with display board & etched glass to let you know what floor you’re on:

The apartments are actually rather plain & simple, but the floor plan makes up for it. The apartment we visited was at the tip of a “V” with rooms on both sides, so the views were amazing… except for the smog. The mail slot had been painted over since, but it’s an interesting addition.

I also had a lingering question finally answered. The building was one of the first of its kind with central air-conditioning (hence the low ceiling in the second foto below), but these days A/C units cover the exterior. I always wondered why. Turns out the Carrier unit was too complicated to repair when it stopped working a few decades ago:

Moreso than the river views or treetops of Plaza San Martín, it was the roof of the Basílica del Santísimo Sacramento that blew me away. I had never seen the detailing on the top before… with the Edificio Alas in the background to boot:

The entire April 1936 edition of the trade digest Nuestra Arquitectura was dedicated to the Kavanagh, & the apartment owner had a copy. It’s full of floor plans & reasons to move into this most modern of buildings. The CIAE provided electricity at a discounted rate for tenants. That’s reason enough for me to buy an apartment there… & quite a coincidence since former Econ Minister Martínez de Hoz directed the CIAE, sold it for an exorbitant price & currently lives in the building:

Dictatorship stories aside, this was another great experience thanks to the generosity of people here. Thanks for the invite!