Like several other Perón era housing projects, a name change occurred after military leaders ousted the President. 17 October 1945 marked the birth of Perón’s political presence when workers marched on Plaza de Mayo, demanded he be released from jail & requested his nomination as President. Later consecrated as the Día de la Lealtad & made a national holiday, such a polemic moment in history could not survive the anti-Perón years which followed the coup. A less controversial name for this neighborhood—Barrio General José de San Martín—today commemorates a less controversial historical figure. Locals also know it as the Barrio Grafa, named for the adjoining textile factory (Grandes Fábricas Argentinas), today occupied by Walmart.

Of the two models for housing projects during Perón’s decade in office, the Barrio 17 de Octubre followed the pattern of Barrio Balbastro & Los Perales. No California-style chalets here; just large, evenly-spaced monoblocks… 34 buildings of four floors each, creating a grand total of 959 apartments (783 2-bedroom units + 176 3-bedroom units).

Along with lots of open space & a few local markets, each building was given a name & number… important when all your neighbors live in identical spaces! Also of note is the construction company, Fernando Vinnelli e Hijos, who also built the Ministerio de Economia on one corner of Plaza de Mayo. The wild parakeet population was a bit of a surprise!

But the most outstanding feature turned out to be the water tower… an important part of any housing project, especially one so large. Surrounding its base in large metal letters is the following text: “Por la libre voluntad del Pueblo como expresión de Soberanía” or “A realization of sovereignty by free will of the people.” Very Peronista.

Wow. That took forever to draw… I guess it’s a good thing since this 1949 project represents the first successful attempt to think outside the standard, Buenos Aires grid plan. No government-sponsored housing project had ever been attempted on such a large scale. The layout is not symmetrical, but it comes close. City limits obviously cramped the design since Avenida General Paz slices through the “U,” so planners extended the left (actually southwest) side slightly to compensate.

Opened shortly after the Barrio 1º de Marzo, this organic design added a substantial 428 houses to Buenos Aires & followed the general principle of all Perón era housing projects… it was a complete unit with its own church, school & park. Perhaps it was more practical than altruistic since there was not much else built in this area during the 1940s. Whatever the reason, it was a new idea. Houses modeled on the chalet californiano came with one or two stories. Patio area appears reduced, but homes seem larger than the previous Perón project. I particularly like the look of these, & most seemed nicely preserved. A few balconies caught my eye which might be original:

The Parroquia San Juan el Precursor is textbook Mission:

Parks are well maintained & planned with a nice mix of open areas & trees. Playground equipment is scattered around & there’s even a trellis or two:

But what really surprised me is how peaceful it was, especially for having General Paz as a border. Traffic flowed by at midday peacefully (I realize it wasn’t rush hour), & the decibel level was considerably less than anywhere downtown:

After the Revolución Libertadora against Perón, the project’s name officially changed to Barrio Cornelio Saavedra. Should residents revert to the original name now that the political climate has changed? I think so. Everything out there seems to be named after Saavedra… a little variety never hurt anyone.

Update (28 Jan 2011): A trip to the Archivo General de la Nacion before temporarily moving to Sydney turned up some excellent propaganda photos of this neighborhood while it was under construction. Although the second photo is obviously staged, these pics are wonderful glimpses into the history of housing in Buenos Aires. And how can you beat Eva Perón presiding over the opening ceremonies? (center, looking down, with beret & wide-lapel collar):

Update (28 Oct 2011): A song which is currently popular on local music video stations was filmed primarily in this mini-barrio. “Casi q’ me pierdo” by Los Cafres begins by using Avenida General Paz as a primary backdrop but quickly shifts focus to Barrio Juan Perón:

Barrio 1º de Marzo • Saavedra
(Galván & Larralde)

Originally leased in 1948, 177 units were available for purchase only four years later. Rosa Aboy quotes a resident of this project in Mundo Peronista: “All houses had been rented by the Eva Perón Foundation. A few days ago Evita decided to sell them to us through easy monthly payments & we have all decided to buy. Thanks to Evita we have our own house!” Sure, it sounds like propaganda & it was, but many families had undeniably acquired the dream of a casa propia.

My first impression as I approached the area was, am I in the right spot? Surely an abandoned playfield wasn’t part of the Peronista ideal. I walked past an abandoned flagpole. This must be it. Even though houses were tightly packed together & mainly single story, few unified design elements which usually identify this kind of project could be seen. The more I walked around, some common elements popped out. Still… I didn’t understand what was going on.

I randomly took a few photos at a standard, corner house. A woman sat at the window sewing with afternoon light streaming in. She saw me looking a bit confused, so I walked over. I’m glad I did. She opened the window & shared a great story:

Her grandparents came to Argentina during Pellegrini’s presidency (1890′s) & lived in an apartment building on Cerriti… the side that was eventually demolished to make Avenida 9 de Julio. So her parents were offered to rent a house in the new project. Perón’s idea was to give houses to families & she had just been born, so they easily qualified. Her aunt was taking care of her grandfather & managed to convince authorities to give them houses next to each other. Lucky for them.

She said that her family was thrilled to have their own house, but her mother used to cry all the time because she felt so isolated. Of course. It’s odd to think of undeveloped parts of BA in the 1940′s. Back then, the only paved roads belonged to the housing project. Sidewalks weren’t even installed… mainly because that would allow the city government to charge a maintenance tax. Her exact words were, “los tanos son vivos,” meaning that Italians are sharp/clever… good for avoiding extra taxes. She confirmed the sale of houses to residents. Large initial payments gave way to minuscule monthly bills, & she claimed that the fare to get to the bank downtown was more than the final payments.

Also confirming my observation that most of the houses had been modified, she said few original structures survived. But her aunt’s house next door happened to be one with the least changes over the years. Cool. Note the lack of a large fence. Only a simple gate separated the house from the street. Also the wooden shutters are a bit overexposed in the first photo, so the second pic of a different house is for clarity:

A few more things to mention about this project… it had one very famous resident, boxing legend José María Gatica. He may have never been a champion, but he was loved by many & had a special relationship with the Peróns. His first child was named María Eva, & Evita reciprocated by giving him a house here. After Perón fled in exile in 1955, this project officially changed its name to Barrio President Roque Sáenz Peña. Another example of the useless attempt to undo what the Perón’s did. The first day of March–which gives this neighborhood its name–was the day that Perón officially bought the entire Argentine rail network from the British in 1947. That story is highly controversial & unfortunately outside the scope of this blog, but residents recently switched back to the original name. Good for them.

Update (28 Jan 2011): An interesting article by Eduardo Criscuolo tells a few local stories about this neighborhood (in Spanish).

Welcome to the Perón era. With only four projects built in the previous 20 years, no doubt a housing crisis for lower income workers affected Buenos Aires… and provided good enough reason to eliminate the CNCB. Perón’s support came from the working class, so it’s not surprising that he began to cater to their needs.

Land which bordered an industrial zone a few blocks south of the CCM-built Barrio Varela-Bonorino received 6 apartment buildings with 18 units each, for a total of 108 new homes. What’s interesting is the style… or rather the lack of it: rectangular blocks with very little ornamentation. It’s obviously quick, easy, & inexpensive to build but very different for the late 1940′s cityscape. Here’s the before & after (images captured from the city government’s map website):

Although it looks decent enough from the aerial shots, the vicinity seems a bit desolate today. This is really the Buenos Aires that few people see. Each building has 3 stories, & from first glance I thought there was zero attempt at decoration. Plain, flat façades with holes for windows:

Numbers mark each cookie cutter building:

Since the fence doesn’t go around the entire perimeter of the complex, vast open spaces can be appreciated. I’m sure the trees look great in summer, but the lack of grass is a bit depressing. This is probably the soccer field on the weekends:

A large water tower is used like in the Barrio Rawson:

After walking around the entire block, the northeastern façade finally showed some promise. Balconies, most of them covered by residents, added a little decoration as did the stairwells. Granted, it’s not much but it beats living in a concrete cell. In fact, it reminds me of some of the apartment complexes I knew as a kid in Memphis:

Obviously less concerned about design than in earlier projects, it will be interesting to see how the rest of the Perón era buildings look. I’m itching to finish this series before I leave for Australia!

Update (29 Jan 2011): The impressive Inventario de Patrimonio Urbano series states that via new laws during the Perón era, government housing projects were transferred to the Banco Hipotecario Nacional. The BHN not only controlled mortgages but also managed construction of new complexes like Barrio Balbastro. By making construction affordable & building as many new units as possible, they thought the housing crisis would be overcome. The city donated the land but the Union Obrera de Empleados Municipales worked as the intermediary to house people after the project was complete.

While nothing like Cabrini-Green, that idea was on its way…

A new commission was formed in 1943 under the military government of Pedro Ramírez–the CAVP (Comisión Asesora de la Vivienda Popular)–to coordinate construction of housing projects with national tax agencies, banks & the Ministry of Public Works (MOP). Around the same time, a new ministerial position was created–the Secretaría de Trabajo y Previsión–& given to Juan Perón. Under his jurisdiction were both the CAVP & the CNCB. In 1944, the CNCB was officially dissolved & two other organizations assumed its functions: the Consejo de la Vivienda in 1944 & the Administración Nacional de la Vivienda in 1945.

Casa Colectiva Martín Rodríguez, 1943 • La Boca
(Avenida Pedro de Mendoza & Martín Rodríguez)

I’m slim on info for this particular project. Although I should go back to the Sociedad Central de Arquitectos, I just don’t have the time. It was projected in 1940 with construction completed prior to the dissolution of the CNCB. I don’t know who the architect is, but there are 63 one-bedroom units, 50 two-bedrooms & 28 three-bedrooms for a total of 141 units. What’s really great about this building is its shape. Instead of creating the standard enclosed patio, one section has been turned in to allow air & light inside. I like the “G.” Sorry about the average quality of the pics… it is almost officially winter & good light is scarce.

The curved section, each floor with its own balcony, is one of its more outstanding features. And tenants get the classic Buenos Aires view of the Puente Trasbordador. I hadn’t been to this part of the Riachuelo in years, & I couldn’t believe how bad it has become… a huge pile of sewage sits in the center of the inlet. But if they ever clean up the river, these houses will be prime real estate:

On the ground floor, a small commercial strip sits vacant with fancy lamps & a nice entrance to one section of apartments:

Side views along Martín Rodríguez:

The entrance to the twisted courtyard was open & no one seemed to mind me walking in. I couldn’t resist… I can always play the dumb foreigner if I get caught :) The benches & lamps weren’t in great condition but are nice additions to give use to the space as well as a sense of community. Notice how the sidewalk & the building itself is raised high above street level. The banks of the Riachuelo often flooded, so elevating the entire structure makes sense:

My favorite bit of flair was the glass panels & towers decorating the staircases. They reminded me a bit of Pirovano’s design on the Casa Colectiva América:

Barrio Alvear II, 1939 • Parque Avellaneda
(Juan Vucetich & José Bonifacio)

Exiting the chalets, an orderly complex of seven apartment buildings from a later era appears.  Most units seemed to be rather small (what I gathered from peeking in windows), but the design was jaw-dropping. Buildings are in decent condition & centered around a lush, green patio. The exterior staircases are nothing short of orgasmic… can architecture do that? :) It’s a shame that more of these weren’t built.

[BTW this post was originally part of Barrio Alvear 1 published on 08 Feb 2007, lumped together with all the other housing projects in the same area. But now that I understand the development of the site, I thought it best to separate them & make individual posts for each project.]

Casa Colectiva Patricios, 1939 • Parque Patricios
(24 de Noviembre & Rondeau)

Built behind the very first Casa Colectiva, the lot space was probably purchased by the government in 1919 for later expansion but sat vacant for several decades. That seems to be the only explanation for the 20 year gap between adjacent projects. The CNCB built 77 units in a unique E-shape. Unfortunately I don’t know who the architect was, but it’s an interesting combo of the modernity that Estanislao Pirovano brought to the Casa América (elements of Racionalismo) with a touch of Bereterbide-inspired design (interior patios & a rooftop overhang).

I don’t really care for the lack of window treatment, but the design has some interesting elements. The “E” is open to the street so allows a lot of light to reach every apartment. The back wall is not flush with the 1919 structure so anyone walking by can see the exterior balconies. Nice:

The only main exterior façade on the street had a bit of thought put into the balcony design:

Both interior patios are gated with no public access, but the staircases are ultra-mod:

The lower corner unit had some work being done, so the workers left the windows open. I didn’t stick my camera in, but rooms were average size for BA & I didn’t see anything special with the interior design.

Update (18 May 2008): Never underestimate the power of the internet. Thanks to this blog I’ve been able to see things otherwise off limits & get to know Buenos Aires better than I imagined. Agustín, who lives in the last housing project I profiled, offered to send me photos of the interior after reading that post. Super nice. Thanks to him we all have an insider’s view of the Casa Colectiva Patricios.

The main entrance leads to a spacious central hall:

While the exterior could use more care, the interior staircase view is amazing:

Both inside & out, decoration in common areas is lacking… very different from the Bereterbide designs a decade earlier. But it looks like most of the original fixtures are still around:

Probably the most unexpected treat–since it can’t be seen from the street–is a rear view of the Casa Colectiva Valentín Alsina…with equal decoration as the front:

A couple more views from the top:

Thanks again to Augustín! I was invited to see the Barrio Rawson buildings & didn’t go… I wonder if I’m still welcome?

Update (27 Jan 2011): I walked past last week & it appears that the exterior has been repainted, but I’ll have to go back to take photos.

Right in the heart of Sunday street fair in San Telmo is this rather unassuming building. Remember that the CNCB’s first project was an apartment building in Parque Patricios. Then they opted for individual, chalet-style housing. With this project they went back again to the apartment building model. Talk about indecisive:

The inauguration plaque is conserved in the Museo de la Ciudad, but “Bernardino Rivadavia” remains visible at the very top of the building:

The narrow but deep lot was divided into three separate, vertical sections with patios in between to allow light & air to enter each apartment. Most floors were divided into 3 units for a total of 41 apartments. I didn’t get a look at the buzzers to see how those 41 units are distributed inside, so I’ll have to check on that later. But the general floor plan is the following:

There are a couple on the top floor currently for sale. I’m sure they’re asking a substantial price based on their location & the fact that the building looks well-maintained from the exterior. But Sundays would be a nightmare for me with everyone milling around San Telmo:

Update (29 jan 2011): As in the case of the Casa Colectiva Valentín Alsina, architect Raúl Pasman performed a cost-benefit analysis on this particular casa colectiva which was published in the “IV Memoria de la Comisión Nacional de Casas Baratas” in 1920. 18 two-bedroom units were charged $40 per month, 23 one-bedroom apartments paid $30 per month. Two ground floor businesses paid $150 each, so the grand total per month was $1,710 or $20,520. Again, 10% was deducted for annual maintenance, cleaning & taxes so the net income for the government was $18,468 per year.

Land had been purchased at $155,000 & construction costs came to $383,000. Magically, the same figure appeared: 3%. In this case it would also take 33 years before the government would recover its investment… 1954.

Casa Colectiva América, 1937 • San Telmo
(Avenida San Juan & Balcarce)

As the world pulled out of the Great Depression, immigration to Argentina slowed & they regained a market in Europe. Not much had been done in Buenos Aires to house immigrants in the meantime. Many of the first arrivals had already formed large families so the Comisión Nacional de Casas Baratas (CNCB) dusted itself off & built an apartment building with 95 units.

Designed by Estanislao Pirovano, the U-shape allows a lot of light to enter & gives have the units a view of the central patio. Pirovano was an incredibly diverse architect, having designed everything from Tudor to Neocolonial. But this was the first time a housing project had been built in the newest style taking BA by storm: racionalismo. Smooth surfaces, projecting window blinds & strategically placed curves gave the Casa América a sexy, streamline look. Most of the units have 2 bedrooms, & I was impressed at how nice it looks even today.

The only thing that makes this location less-than-desirable today is that the highway to Ezeiza runs directly behind it. But I’m not complaining… this could have easily disappeared in the 1970′s.

Update (27 Jan 2011): Just before leaving for Australia indefinitely in Jul 2008, a visit to the Archivo General de la Nación turned up an interesting photo.

Taken in Jun 1935, the reverse text reads:

El arzobispo de Buenos Aires bendiga la piedra fundamental de la Casa Colectiva América, que se levantará en San Juan y Balcarce. Presidió la ceremonia el Ministro del Interior. Momento en que usa la palabra el ingeniero Juan Ochoa.

The Archbishop of Buenos Aires blesses the cornerstone of the Casa Colectiva América, which will be erected at San Juan & Balcarce. The Minister of the Interior presided over the ceremony. Moment when the engineer Juan Ochoa addressed those present.

Apart from the interesting scene–notice how society women dressed at the time–surely one of those in the crowd must be the architect responsible for the project, Estanislao Pirovano. It would be a great discovery if he is indeed pictured because for such an important person, no one has ever published a portrait of Pirovano. Four people are identified, but none of them are the architect. Help!

Luis’s grandfather, Francisco de la Fuente, bought a house on lot H88 in 1926… no street name at the time. As you can see by the sale booklet below, his was #3120. I’m assuming 3,119 people bought a CCM house before him:

Francisco worked as an accountant for a droguería, providing wholesale meds to local neighborhood pharmacies. Neither Luis nor his father remember exactly how Francisco found out about the CCM houses (either a friend or a relative), but it wasn’t difficult to obtain. What I find interesting is that the houses were available to everyone—no restrictions were applied. I mistakenly thought that these housing projects were only for what we call today blue collar workers. Evidently not.

And now I know exactly what the purchase price was! The agreement was 60 payments of 20 pesos/month, or 1200 pesos. It seemed incredibly affordable, but I had to find out exactly how much 20 pesos was in 1926. After spending a couple hours at the Instituto Histórico (the girls that work there are divinas), I finally found an average salary for that year: 120 pesos. Francisco paid more or less one-sixth of his monthly income for a brand new house. Below is the signed agreement & the receipt for the first monthly installment:

Luis noted was that neither his grandfather’s identity number nor the square meters of the house are mentioned in any of the original documents. It shows how times change… anyone could have taken the payment booklet & said, “I’m Francisco de la Fuente & this is my house.” Good thing no one did that in those days. Luis’s father, even though he’s 86 now, has a sharp memory. He remembers the construction of the house when he was 4 years old… everything arrived on-site labelled “H88″ (very much like an assembly line) & believes that the pine floorboards came from California.

In the 1930s, there was an amortization on the value of the house so monthly payments changed. The house by that time had received an official address—Bialet Masse 523—& acquired a new value: $13,579 pesos. Monthly payments jumped to 77 pesos. Unfortunately I don’t know how that fits into 1935 prices. I’ll have to go back to the Instituto Histórico!

The new payment booklet has a wonderful floor plan… good to know my sources were correct about the layout of the house. One other document shown below as well:

Francisco de la Fuente passed away in 1957, & Luis’s father took over payment of the house. The last installment was paid in 1959:

Luis was born in 1953 & lived in the house with 3 generations of his family until 1963. His dad purchased a chalet which was part of a development scheme that was never completed (an interesting topic for another post) & they moved out. The CCM house was sold in the early 1980′s after the death of Luis’s grandmother, but unfortunately no document can be found & no one remembers the sale price. Dang. It was almost the whole history of the house.

So why don’t I show you photos of what it looks like now? Because it’s gone. The people who purchased the house from Luis’s father replaced it with another structure. Qué pena. But thanks to the de la Fuente family, we have a specific example of this era. I’m eternally grateful for the time & effort Luis put into digging through his family’s history & sharing it with me!