Ghosts

The graffiti came first, claiming the presence of a ghost.  It's an urban legend that the vacant house on Boulevard Espana is haunted, but the sight of a spectral figure glowing in an upstairs window could hardly be more disturbing than the sign that appeared one morning on the fence.  

Doomed

Demolition company sign

A developer has purchased the property and will soon start demolition to make way for yet another high-rise apartment building.

I am appalled to see the full-scale transformation of Montevideo taking place rapidly, without protest, as irreplaceable built heritage is reduced to rubble overnight.  The newspaper El Pais reports that the construction boom is happening so fast and furiously, that developers are going ahead with projects without waiting for the proper municipal permits to be issued.  The fines for non-compliance are less than fees for permits, and can be paid after the fact, when the building is already in place.  If a newly-constructed apartment building happens to be five storeys higher than the limit - no problem - a cash payment to the authorities will suffice.

As for a heritage registry, I am informed that there is an inventory of valued buildings in the city, but that it has absolutely no effect in preventing demolition.  If the proposed construction project is backed by a sufficient amount of money, then anything is possible.

Doomed

This house around the corner on 21 de Setiembre is another ghost.  It was recently sold by the owner to a developer for a very large sum, and is destined to be replaced with an apartment tower.

Changing streetscape in Parque Rodo 

What to expect - an uninspired, ugly new tower  right next door

Gaps like this are common in Montevideo's older neighbourhoods

Remains of a once elegant interior

Is this one next?  

Or this one?

Then this one?

Or this one?

The ghosts will disappear, but Montevideans will be forever haunted by what they have lost; the fabric of a beautiful city full of history, character and charm.  Progress?  I think not.

“Historic buildings are a proud and significant part of our, and every, nation’s heritage. They are an irreplaceable element of the collective memory of local communities…They contribute both to our sense of identity and to that regional distinctiveness which is so valuable and so vulnerable.” 
                                                                                        - Stevens, J, Sir. (past) Chairman English Heritage.

Old Stones and Cellulose

With the height of the tourist season now finished and the fall weather still sunny and pleasant, we decide to take a day trip to Colonia del Sacramento, located 177 kilometers northwest of Montevideo   The bus ride takes two and a half hours, following a route that passes through a factory zone in the industrial east end of the city and gradually becomes scenic as green hills dotted with dairy farms replace billowing smokestacks.

Porton de Campo, the gate to the old town, built in 1745

At noon we arrive in Colonia del Sacramento, the oldest city in Uruguay, settled in 1680 by the Portugese governor of Rio de Janeiro, Manuel Lobo. For the early inhabitants, this area represented a strategic bit of coastline on the Rio de la Plata, located near the mouth of the Parana River and directly opposite the Argentine capital, Buenos Aires.  Prosperous Colonia, an active port and center of contraband trading, changed hands many times in the course of history, in military disputes between the Portugese and Spanish. The Spanish eventually succeeding in making claim to the area following a siege in 1777.

Today, the Barrio Historico is classified as a UNESCO World Heritage site.  Once you cross the wooden drawbridge and go through the massive stone Porton de Campo, the rough cobblestone streets lead to a central plaza surrounded by a living architectural museum that's often compared to old Lisbon.

Cobblestone street next to the ramparts lead to the waterfront

Early Portugese colonial house on Calle de los Suspiros

Patina on a stucco wall

Ruins of the 17th c. convent of San Francisco, and the lighthouse, completed in 1857

View of Rio de la Plata from Colonia

Fishing on the rocky shore

We visit several museums in Colonia - the Portugese Museum, the Tile Museum, the Indigenous Museum - all within walking distance of the Plaza Mayor.  The collections are small with precious groupings of ceramics, weaponry, furniture and maps displayed in buildings that were once private houses.   Wandering around the old town, we find a sharp contrast between Montevideo streets (dirty, noisy, full of traffic and graffiti) and those in Colonia del Sacramento (clean, quiet, well-maintained, pedestrian-friendly.)  

At the top of De Portugal, the Basilica de Sanctisimo  Sacramento, 1808

The church interior - stark white, undecorated

Virgen de Treinte y Tres displayed inside the church

Just opposite the old church, we stop at a restaurant  that has tables set out on the sidewalk.  With roasted chicken and green salad, we enjoy a glass of G Sauvignon Gris, a wine from Casa Filgueira bodega.  

Uruguayan Sauvignon Gris - a crisp patio wine 

Waiter at the Viejo Barrio restaurant

Ceramics in an antique shop

1717 Fine Arts Cafe features black and white photography

The beautiful terrace and courtyard at 1717 provide a relaxing spot for ...

espresso coffee!

Typical streetscape in Colonia, with stone construction

 On the way back to Montevideo, we notice that almost every farm in the area surrounding Colonia is marked with a "For Sale" sign.   A friend who owns a small apple farm offers an explanation as to what is happening in rural communities.   The government approval of a cellulose plant, a project funded by a conglomerate of Chilean, Finnish and Swedish companies operating as Montes del Plata de Uruguay, has caused the sudden glut of farms offered for sale.  At 1.9 billion U.S. dollars, this is the largest foreign investment that the country has ever seen. The plant and industrial port will be located at Punta Pereira near Conchillas, within a free trade zone on the bank of Rio de la Plata, just north of Colonia del Sacramento.  To provide enough trees for continuous production of pulp and paper, Montes del Plata is intent on acquiring property for planting forests - in fact, they already own 250,000 hectares of land in Uruguay!  And they're not alone: UPM-Kymmene from Finland owns 225,000 hectares, and the U.S. company Weyerhauser owns 140,000 hectares.    The large-scale foreign ownership of prime land will mean that smaller food producers are squeezed out of operation, just like our apple orchard friend, who is seriously considering a forestry company's attractive offer to purchase.  Goodbye to his annual harvest of Granny Smith, hello to fast-growing eucalyptus and pine.

Ad running in the national newspaper, "El Pais"

One hopes that the heritage sites in Uruguay will be preserved, with each stone intact for future generations to appreciate.  One hopes that industrial growth will not destroy the sustainable, small-scale farms that feed the population. One hopes that the environment will remain pristine, that water resources will be protected, that soil quality will be maintained, that the air will stay clean.  One hopes that Uruguay, with its rich human history and natural resources, will remain distinctly Uruguayan.

The icing on the cake

Decorations designed to frame windows and doors are part and parcel of the vocabulary of  residential architecture in Montevideo.  The adornments and details that make a house stand out in the streetscape were lavishly applied by architects working in the Parque Rodo neighbourhood during the late19th and early 20th centuries.  Wrought iron railings, mouldings, cornices, friezes, corbels and lintels offered surfaces where the cake's icing could be laid on in thick and elaborate flourishes.

Restored house on Calle Juan Paullier

The scale of each element in the facade of the Juan Paullier house is exaggerated, to add a sense of weight and importance to the design.

The height of the doorway  is at least 15 feet. The entry opens to a foyer space with marble stairs leading up to the main floor, which is level with the base of the windows.  The high ceilings, typical of older homes in Montevideo, allowed the house to stay cool during the hot summer months. The addition of skylights made the interior rooms light and airy, in spite of the fact that most of these houses are adjoining structures with no side windows.   

 The concave area around the front door contains swags of acanthus leaves and braids of laurel  that appear to grow in symmetrical profusion out of the central keystone, with its scrolled corbel. The frieze includes egg and dart moulding and a string of dentils.  Everything about this entrance is calculated to make an impression of grandeur and elegance.

The wrought iron railings on the window wells complete the decoration,  like lace trim on the edge of a sleeve.

Residence on Boulevard Espana

The glass and  wrought iron canopy over the entry of this house adds visual impact to the doorway.  Circle motifs are repeated throughout the design.

This magnificent house needs a new owner, willing to do some repair work

Sadly, the mansion on Espana is sitting empty and each time we pass by, we notice more broken panes of glass and new areas of damage.  If its condition continues to deteriorate, this building, like many others occupying prime land in a central location, will be demolished and replaced with an apartment tower.

This house was torn down last month, for just that reason.

"A country without a past has the emptiness of a barren continent; 

and a city without old buildings is like a man without a memory."   

- Graeme Shankland

A Tale of two Prisons

Montevideo is a city full of old architectural stock, ranging from fine, stylish examples that have been beautifully restored to decrepit uninhabited wrecks that have sadly deteriorated beyond repair.  There is a municipal Heritage Committee in place which works to preserve the best of Montevideo's historic buildings and oversees the restoration process as they are adapted for contemporary use.  Two penal institutions in Montevideo have been recycled to serve new audiences and facilitate different functions.

Punta Carretas, a former prison transformed into an upscale shopping mall

Carcel Miguelete, now Espacio de Arte Contemporaneo

Visting these former prisons in their current roles as commercial space (Punta Carretas) and public art gallery (Miguelete) raises questions about how much of a building's history can or should be eliminated in a rehabilitation program.  Does history deserve a memorial as the passage of time and changing community needs alter both the physical edifice and its function?

Punta Carretas Shopping is all glitz, chrome mirrors and natural light, a mall that's designed with shops on four levels of inviting vertical space.  There are high-end merchants here, offering diamond tennis bracelets, the latest Reezig running shoes, European cosmetics, Egyptian cotton sheets and deluxe stereo systems.  Once inside the former prison walls, the desire to buy is almost irresistible; it's the consumer who is held captive by slick merchandising, quota payment plans, seductive displays, contests and credit card discounts.  No visible chains, other than the chain stores that inhabit malls everywhere.  There are some guards, but they're friendly ones who will gladly direct you to the movie theatre, supermarket, food court or anywhere else you might want to go.

What is missing in this luxury shopping complex is the story of the place itself.  This is the site where Uruguay's notorious left-wing urban guerrillas, the Tupamaros made a daring escape in 1971 by digging a tunnel to freedom.  Many of those former inmates are still alive, most notably the current President of Uruguay, Jose Mujica.  Shouldn't their story which includes political protests, bank robberies, hostage taking, and murder be remembered as part of the city's history?  The average visitor, gliding up the escalator in the refurbished palace of consumerism, would not have a clue about what took place in Punta Carretas a mere 40 years ago.

The other ex-prison, Miguelete, has been converted into a public art gallery with much less intervention in terms of the layout and construction. The pentagon-shaped building is surrounded by an imposing seven metre high institutional wall.  Inside, the cells now serving as gallery spaces are essentially intact, complete with original doors, barred windows, security pass-throughs and heavy-duty locks.  There is a catwalk connecting both sides of the second storey, and the exercise yard is still dominated by guards' look-out towers.  Despite the modern facade and new interior lighting, this art gallery suffers from a heavy, constrictive atmosphere lingering from the building's past.  Though adequate for video installations in  small dark rooms, the facility lacks the wide open spaces required for display of large-scale works.   The repetitive rows of cell/galleries with only one entrance severely constrain the pattern of exhibit design.  The layout never allows a flow of visitors through the building, and the viewing experience is interrupted by the back and forth movement to and from a central hallway.   The exhibition I saw (Post-it City) read like a series of separate, disjointed words, rather than one coherent statement.  I came away with the uncomfortable feeling that the artworks themselves were incarcerated.

Somewhere between the surgical removal of history in a building and the strict preservation of it, there is the right balance that allows for a brand new contemporary use, while retaining respect for the past.