A Major Mexico City Attraction
that is Almost Invisible
There
is a major attraction in Mexico City that is ignored by just about
everyone. Very little can be found
on the internet; indeed, not much information about it is available
anywhere. And yet, it is readily
visible for those who have eyes to see or, more relevantly, for those who have
the wit to look.
The
remarkable sight I am talking about is closely associated with an entity that
can hardly be ignored, the Plaza Mexico, more formally, the Plaza De Toros,
located in Ciudad de Los Deportes, Benito Juárez in Mexico City. It is said to be the largest building
in the world, designed to seat 42,000 people, though it has actually held as
many as 50,000. So let me now
finally introduce you to my topic.
The
building is wholly surrounded by a wall, with marble pedestals spaced
irregularly on top of that wall, bringing wall plus pedestals to a height of
about four meters above the sidewalk.
Placed on these high surfaces are bronze sculptures depicting different
vignettes of bullfights. The works
are superbly realistic, with fine details that are even discernable from the
awkward distance of ground to excessive height. Realistic, yes; but also elegant, exhibiting the kind of
flair that bullfight aficionados look for when they attend the actual
spectacles inside.
The
sculptures are somewhat less than life-size, though it is not easy to judge
this from the distance and angle enforced by their placement. There are no repetitions as you
circumnavigate the Plaza. Each
piece is unique and presents a different glance of actions to be seen in the
ring.
Specifically, as you walk along the entire outer wall, you will count 19
different works. Of these, 14
depict both a matador and a bull, 3 portray a matador by himself and 2
sculptures are of a bull alone. In
addition, there are works, quite formidable ones, inside the walls, to be seen
by those who have bought a ticket and have entered the vast space.
The artist who created these remarkable works
came to Mexico in 1939 from Valencia where he was born in 1900. He had fought against Franco and in
effect fled after members of his family had been killed. His name: Alfredo Just Gimeno, who
subsequently had a most successful career in Mexico, succumbing to cancer in
1966.
There is little doubt that his
work at the Plaza De Toros is his magnum
opus or, better, they are his magna
opera since there are so many of them. They constitute an immense effort of meticulous sculpting,
presumably in wax properly supported.
The works were then cast in bronze (again, presumably) by means of the ancient “lost wax”
technique. I have been unable to
find anything about Alfredo Just’s studio and working practices. He must surely have had assistants, but
nothing seems to be known about them.
Nor is there anywhere a hint about the casting of these works. But just looking at the products
requires one to infer that the sculptor had available to him a foundry or
foundries in possession of the repertory of techniques and equipment that
rivaled those of Italy, where that craft goes back to the Renaissance, indeed
to ancient Rome. Moreover, the
casting must have been accomplished by craftsmen with the training and high
skills required to do the sophisticated work that was accomplished.
I have now
described a large series of remarkable works of art that are close to being
invisible; I have spoken to Mexican friends who have walked along the Plaza on
more than one occasion who did not know that there were there. In effect, these wonderful sculptures
are doing nothing for the building nor for the
fine art of tauromachia, to use the formal designation for the spectacles
that take place inside it. What to
do?
A brief
examination of the site will convince one that there is no practical way to
lower these pieces and bring them into visibility. There is thus no alternative to taking them down from their
lofty perch and exhibit them on ground level to what will surely be an
enthusiastic public.
Two
things must happen when they have been brought within reach: the first is
mundane and routine; the second calls for creativity and imagination.
Even
though these works have been kept out of harms way—except for unfriendly birds
and polluted air—it can be noted from the ground that some are stained and
spotted with grime. They need to
be cleaned. Happily, as far as one
can determine from below, they seem not to have been harmed beyond such surface
blemishes. They are not at all
old, given the life expectancy of bronze castings; but above all, their height
has protected them from mischief perpetrated by man and beast. The city’s climate, moreover, is
benign. Cleaning is likely to be
enough; deeper—and vastly more expensive—restoration probably won’t be needed.
Now
that we have nearly two dozen wonderful sculptures, on a single theme, how
should they presented to the public?
I’ll propose three possibilities, though I am hopeful that others will
put forward more imaginative schemes.
The simplest way to go is to put the whole set on the floor of a modest
building, well lit, large enough to give the sculptures breathing room and allow
the viewers to move around without bumping into the works or each other. For this example or my other two, we
are talking about a small museum, with posted visiting hours, with a guard
whenever the public is welcome, and an appropriate fee for being permitted
inside. And since today there is
no museum without a gift shop, good photographs should be taken of the works
displayed—to be sold singly, in the form of postcards, or collectively as a
small picture book. More elaborate
things are possible, such as models, but I leave that to the experts. In any case, over time, fees and
sales will compensate the sculptures’ owners for some of the cost of making
them available to the public.
A
second way in which these works might be exhibited is outdoors, in a sculpture
garden. Again, I won’t attempt to
prescribe how they might be positioned and how juxtaposed with plantings. Whoever designs this outdoor way
of showing those works must be sure to include some housing for the
ticket-seller and guard and for the de
rigueur gift shop.
Finally, I follow a favorite model: the exhibit of a sizeable number of
works by David Smith in a Tower Gallery of the East Wing of Washington’s
National Gallery. They were placed
irregularly on broad rising steps, with room enough for viewers to walk up and
down and around the pieces. The
fact that these Smith works related to each other not in two but in three
dimensions somehow permitted a greater intimacy between viewers and works of
art. The same might be achievable
with the scenes from bullfights in bronze.
I hope
that this account about how to make almost two dozen wonderful works by Alfredo
Just Gimeno available to an admiring public will be a first, if very small,
step toward its actually happening.
Go
now to the next post
and
see some snapshots of the sculpures here discussed
taken
with a zoom lens from some distance,
yielding
views of these works that are not possible without a camera.
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