Anahuacalli Museum: Diego Rivera’s Temple-Like Treasure Trove

El Museo Anahuacalli is unlike any other museum we’ve visited. Explore Rivera’s collection of pre-Hispanic artifacts after a visit to La Casa Azul.

If you’ve seen Frida’s Casa Azul, the Anahuacalli Museum is included in the ticket. Don’t miss it!

My first introduction to Diego Rivera, one of Mexico’s most famous artists, was a seemingly ubiquitous, mass-produced print of Rivera’s painting El Vendedor de Alcatraces (The Calla Lily Vendor). This image can be seen hanging on the wall of many Mexican restaurants in Anytown, USA. 

Wally peeks behind a giant agave plant in the plaza in front of the museum.

The subject of the artwork is a peasant woman, head bowed, squatting and overwhelmed by a basket filled with an immense bunch of white calla lilies. Rivera was known for his murals with a message and many featured the great social inequalities of the working class and the indigenous peoples of his country. His larger-than-life paintings were commissioned by the Mexican government, Henry Ford, the Rockefellers and the San Francisco Stock Exchange building, among many others. 

“If the light seems gauzy it’s because the panels of the thin vertical windows aren’t made from glass but alabaster, creating an ethereal air of mystery. ”

Frida’s nickname for Diego was Toad-Frog — and with his bulging eyes and belly, it’s not hard to imagine why.

Perhaps what’s more interesting is that his passionate, colorfully attired and unibrowed wife, the eccentric Mexican painter Frida Kahlo is now better known than her erstwhile husband. Her birthplace and childhood home, La Casa Azul (the Blue House), was purchased by and shared with Rivera, who paid off the mortgage and financial debt left by Frida’s father Guillermo — undoubtedly accrued by Frida’s chronic health issues caused by a near-fatal street car accident she suffered when she was 18 years old. 

The first floor of the museum is filled with Mexican folk art.

Diego’s Dream Museum

If you’re visiting Kahlo’s home, be sure to hold on to your ticket, as it also includes admission to Rivera’s equally intriguing and less visited Museo Anahuacalli. The museum is located on the southern end of Coyoacán, about a 30-minute Uber ride from La Conchita Plaza, where Wally and I departed from after spending the afternoon exploring the area. 

The museum’s name is derived from Cemanahuac, the name used by the Aztecs to refer to their world. It’s Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs, for “the Place Surrounded by Water” a concept that paid homage to the swampy pre-Hispanic landscape of México. 

Diego and Frida purchased the parcel of land in the 1930s on the rocky and then underdeveloped lava deposit of El Pedregal colonia, or neighborhood. While working on a mural in America, Rivera was inspired by the Industrial Revolution, and envisioned a space where he and Kahlo could visit and contemplate their collection of pre-Hispanic artifacts. He spent every cent he could scrape together on acquiring these pieces, amassing over 50,000 in his lifetime. One of the stories told about his obsession involves his second wife, Guadalupe Marín, who ground up one of his prized figurines in a fit of anger and served it to him in a bowl of soup. 

Rivera obsessively collected local artifacts.

Some of Rivera’s artifacts might have been acquired on the black market — maybe even this one, which Wally thinks looks like someone giving birth.

Rumor has it that Rivera acquired more than a few of his artifacts on the black market. At the time, there weren’t any laws protecting the provenance of pre-Columbian antiquities, and for this reason, the market boomed amongst nationals and foreigners alike. However Rivera obtained his prized artifacts, it’s undoubtedly an impressive collection that reveals the reverence and curiosity he felt toward the past. An inscription by Rivera at the entrance to the museum reads, “I hereby return to the people what I could rescue from the artistic heritage of their ancestors.”

Jaguars were worshipped as gods by the ancient peoples of Mexico.

Before he died in 1957 at the age of 70, Rivera bequeathed his artifacts and vision for a space to conserve and share the collection with the people of Mexico. The passion project was completed posthumously by his daughter Ruth Rivera, the financial support of his close friend and patroness Dolores Olmedo and architect Juan O’Gorman, using plans left by Rivera.  

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Visit Dolores Olmedo’s amazing estate and see more works by Frida and Diego

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All are welcome at the Museo Anahuacalli.

Like Entering a Temple

The imposing exterior of Anahuacalli is based upon a teocalli, a Mesoamerican temple standing on a truncated pyramid, rising dramatically from the edge of a broad, open plaza. Anahuacalli is sheathed entirely in black basalt, the igneous rock produced by the eruption of nearby Xitle, a volcano that destroyed the pre-Hispanic settlement of Cuicuilco that preceded Mexico City. 

A sign at the entry kiosk states:

En este establecimiento mercantil no se discrimina el ingreso a ninguna persona por motivos de raza, religión, orientación sexual o socioeconómica ni por ningún otro motivo.

This establishment does not discriminate against entry to any person on the basis of race, religion, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status or for any other reason.

Once inside, Wally and I immediately noticed a change in light and temperature; it was dim and cool, like the interior of a tomb. If the light seems gauzy it’s because the panels of the thin vertical windows aren’t made from glass but alabaster, creating an ethereal air of mystery. 

Gorgeous papel picado, or cut paper decorations, hang above artifacts placed in niches.

There’s a large ofrenda, an altar to Rivera.

One of our favorite displays on the ground floor was the impressive and brightly colored ofrenda, a traditional and allegorical offering dedicated to the deceased Rivera. Adorning the ofrenda are life-size papier-mâché folk art sculptures are known as alebrijes—the word these fantastical creatures were repeatedly chanting in vivid fever dream that the artisan Pedro Linares had. 

Ofrendas often have skeleton figures and food and other items the deceased enjoyed in life.

Whimsical papier-mâché folk art creatures called alebrijes came to their creator in a feverish dream.

The exuberant colors of the figures and papel picado, cut tissue paper banners, are all the more striking against the volcanic stone. 

Admire the cut tissue paper flags before venturing into the depths of the temple-like museum.

Narrow alabaster windows give the museum an otherworldly quality.

From the Underworld to the Heavens

A stairwell symbolizing the entrance to the Mayan underworld of Xibalba descends past bouquets of dried marigolds. These flowers guide spirits to their altars using their vibrant colors and pungent scent. 

Bright orange marigolds help guide the way for spirits to visit this world.

Duke looks up at the dried marigolds that fill this stairwell.

The Anahuacalli’s three levels are bisected by dramatic stone staircases leading to galleries with vitrines and niches filled with Rivera’s personal collection of more than 2,000 Zapotec, Maya, Aztec, Olmec and Toltec idols and artifacts ranging from utilitarian to religious objects. 

Rivera collected about 50,000 pre-Hispanic artifacts.

One of Rivera’s wives supposedly ground up one of his idols and served it to him in soup.

Make sure to look up at the ceilings, which showcase mosaics based on Rivera’s designs and communist inclinations. Most were inspired by the mythological creatures of the Mesoamerican canon, with a hammer and sickle thrown in for good measure. One mosaic depicts a toad — Kahlo’s nickname for Rivera was El Sapo-rana, or Toad-Frog — fitting, as he was a large, portly man with bulging eyes. Incidentally, his birthplace, Guanajuato, loosely translates to the Place of Frogs. 

Look up! Most of the ceilings have murals made from different colored rocks.

A woman gathers fruit in one ceiling mural.

Rivera wasn’t subtle about his fondness for Communism.

The light-filled second floor of the museum was originally envisioned as Rivera’s art studio and contains a number of monumental charcoal sketches and studies for several of his murals. One in particular, El Hombre en el Cruce de los Caminos (Man at the Crossroads), is a fresco originally commissioned in 1932 for the Rockefeller Center in New York, but later destroyed and unceremoniously chiseled off the wall for its unflattering portrait of Rockefeller and depiction of communism.

On the second floor, you can see studies for Rivera’s murals.

Another large-scale piece, Pesadilla de Guerra, Sueño de Paz (Nightmare of War, Dream of Peace), was a portable mural painted in 1952 for the Twenty Centuries of Mexican Art exhibition that traveled to various European cities. Its creator sold the work, which was censored by the Mexican authorities, to China. Nobody knows for certain where it is today. 

Also among Rivera’s artworks is a childhood drawing of a choo-choo train. 

Although the Anahuacalli is filled with niches showcasing Rivera’s beloved artifacts, it houses only a fraction of his collection.

Some galleries host temporary exhibits.

It’s also a space that hosts temporary exhibits and site-specific projects. While we were there in the fall of 2018, an exhibit titled Machama featured Adelia Sayeg’s sculptural ceramics. 

Dominating the second floor wall is an early rendering of Rivera’s famous Pesadilla de Guerra, Sueño de Paz mural.

The circular piece in the center of the room was filled with small ceramic pieces by Adelia Sayeg.

The museum’s interior embodies some of the same tenets as American architect Frank Lloyd Wright — specifically the concept of compression and release, with narrow stairwells and passageways opening abruptly into larger spaces. Rivera did meet with Wright in 1952 and consulted with him about the structure. 

Here comes the sun: Keep winding your way up through the museum to end up on the rooftop.

You’ll be temporarily blinded as you step out of the dark confines of the museum onto the rooftop terrace. Like Duke, you can admire the view of CDMX.

Wally takes a break from a long day exploring the neighborhood of Coyoacán.

You wind your way up, floor by floor, until you step out onto the rooftop terrace, open to the sky, boasting panoramic views of the city. The sun bathed the outlying area in golden light. It was a perfect end to an incredible day. –Duke

Wally and Duke are all smiles at this truly one-of-a-kind museum, which they can’t recommend enough.

Anahuacalli Museum

Museo 150
San Pablo Tepetlapa
Coyoacán
04620 Ciudad de México
CDMX
Mexico

9 Fascinating Frida Kahlo Facts That May Surprise You

Overshadowed by her husband Diego Rivera, Kahlo led a too-short life fraught with pain, which she channeled into her powerful paintings.

A portrait of the unusual artist in 1939 by Nickolas Muray

It seems every famous artist is eccentric in their own way, and Frida Kahlo was no exception. She didn’t follow the rules, establishing herself as the negation of what a woman was expected to be. Her singular vision continues to inspire and capture the world’s imagination. Kahlo’s recognizable unibrow, boldly colored clothes and tempestuous marriage to muralist Diego Rivera are as central to her fame as her vivid and powerful self-portraits.

“During the horrific accident, a shower of gold glitter landed on Frida’s bloody and broken body — making the macabre moment like something out of a magical realism novel.

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While writing my post on the Blue House, or La Casa Azul, Kahlo’s former home, I learned more than a few surprising things. Why nine, you might ask? During their lifetimes, Kahlo and Rivera passionately assembled a collection of fantastical papier-mâché alebrijes, and I’d like to imagine hers as a cat with its metaphorical nine lives. So, without further exposition, here are nine interesting facts you might not have known about Frida Kahlo.

Talk about odd couples! Here’s Wedding Portrait of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera by Victor Reyes, 1929

1. She and Diego proved that opposites really do attract.

Kahlo first met Rivera when he was commissioned by the government to paint the mural La Creación at the Bolívar Auditorium of the Escuela Nacional Preparatoria in 1922. Kahlo was one of only 35 females in a student body of 2,000 and belonged to a group of young intellectuals who called themselves Las Cachuchas, named after the peaked cloth caps they wore as a sign of subversion against the rigid dress code of the period. One account claims that she mischievously soaped the stairs leading to the auditorium where Rivera was working, hoping to make him slip and fall.

They met again in 1928 while he was working on a fresco for Mexico City’s Ministry of Education building. With paintings tucked under her arm, she demanded Rivera critique her work, telling him, “I have not come to you looking for compliments. I want the criticism of a serious man. I’m neither an art lover nor an amateur. I’m simply a girl who must work for her living.”

It was a May-December romance, as Rivera was about twice her age (as well as 200 pounds heavier). She was 22, he was 43. He had been married twice before. Kahlo once said, “I suffered two grave accidents in my life: one in which a streetcar knocked me down, and the other was Diego.”  

Frida paints Portrait of My Father, 1952, in her studio. Photo by Gisèle Freund

2. A horrific — but strangely beautiful — accident changed the course of her life.

In 1925, an 18-year-old Kahlo was riding a bus home from school with her boyfriend Alex Gómez Arias when it collided with an oncoming electric streetcar. A fellow passenger on the bus had been carrying a bag of gold dust, which was released upon impact and tore, a shower of gold glitter landing on the bloody and broken body of Kahlo — making the macabre moment like something out of a magical realism novel.

When onlookers saw her, they cried, “La bailarina, la bailarina!” mistaking her for a dancer.

The bed-ridden Frida Kahlo painting Portrait of My Family in 1950. Photo by Juan Guzmán

The near-fatal accident left Kahlo bedridden for months and enduring lifelong complications that would fuel her intensely personal artwork, turning her deepest feelings and darkest moments into art.

What a deer! Frida With Granzino, Version 2 by Nickolas Muray, 1939

3. Kahlo wasn’t able to have children, so she filled the void with exotic pets.

Kahlo was a great lover of animals and had an exotic menagerie at La Casa Azul. In many of her self-portraits she is accompanied by her favorite animals, including a pair of mischievous spider monkeys named Fulang Chung and Caimito de Guayabal. She also had Bonito, an Amazon parrot, who would perform tricks at the table for rewards of pats of butter, an eagle named Gertrudis Caca Blanca (Gertrude White Shit), hairless Xoloitzcuintli dogs and a fawn called Granzino.

These animals appeared in her work, including Self-Portrait With Monkey and The Wounded Deer, her face placed atop a deer’s body, probably Granzino’s, complete with antlers, running through a forest as nine arrows pierce its body.

Frida’s love of animals is evident in her Self-Portrait With Small Monkey from 1945

Despite wanting to have offspring, Kahlo was unable to bear children and suffered miscarriages and medical abortions. Her inability to give birth became a source of trauma, and she said that her pets symbolized the children she never could have.

Many of Frida’s paintings were self-portraits, like Autorretrato from 1948

4. She’d most likely beat you in a staring contest.

Kahlo was her own most popular muse. Fifty-five of her 143 paintings are self-portraits, which is perhaps understandable when thinking about how much time she spent on her own while coping with a variety of chronic health issues. Her conjoined brows, plaited hair and watchful eyes fiercely demand that the viewer meet her gaze. And her defiant, upright posture was as much due to the immobilizing plaster corsets she was forced to wear to support her spinal column as it was her confidence.

Kahlo’s use of the intimate self-portrait often reflected her turbulent life and was a visual means to communicate her physical and psychological wounds.

Let’s take some time to reflect upon what an amazing woman Frida Kahlo was. Photo by Lola Álvarez Bravo

5. She was her own brand ambassador.

Our sense of self is largely dependent on where we were born, where our family’s from and the people we choose to surround ourselves with. This was especially true for Kahlo with her distinctive sartorial style inspired by the traditional dress of the Tehuana, the independent and proud indigenous matriarchal Zapotec society in the state of Oaxaca. Kahlo’s mother was born in Oaxaca to an indigenous father and a mother of Spanish descent.

Her attire helped her craft an imaginative, colorful identity and typically included flamboyant rings adorning her fingers, a traditional square-cut blouse, the huipil, and a long wrap-around skirt, which allowed her to mask and distract from her physical injuries.

One can only imagine the sensation of Kahlo’s striking and exotic appearance when she arrived in the United States with Rivera. Her rejection of conventional fashion was unlike anything the people of San Francisco, Detroit or New York had ever seen. On a walk in NYC, a flock of children asked Kahlo, “Where’s the circus?” but she simply smiled graciously and continued walking.

The controversial The Suicide of Dorothy Hale by Frida Kahlo, 1939

6. She pushed boundaries and buttons.

Sometime in 1938, Kahlo was commissioned by Clare Boothe Luce, the writer of the all-female Broadway play The Women and a former managing editor of Vanity Fair magazine, to paint a recuerdo, a remembrance portrait of their mutual New York socialite friend and aspiring actress Dorothy Hale, who had recently taken her own life.

Luce presumed Kahlo would paint a conventional portrait of Hale. However, Kahlo wasn’t a fan of what she considered to be the bourgeois capitalist social scene of New York City and had a more cerebral vision in mind — to create a graphic retablo detailing Hale’s moment of death.

In the center of the painting, the building where Hale lived is depicted with its many small windows rising up behind a layer of feathery clouds. A tiny figure plummets from an upper window. In the middle ground is a larger falling figure, clearly Hale, her arms extended and her skirt billowing around her knees. Resting on the pavement in the foreground is the deceased Hale in the black velvet dress and yellow corsage she wore, her dead eyes frozen open and staring at the viewer. As if that wasn’t enough, the inscription literally bleeds into the bottom of the frame and reads, “In the city of New York on the 21st day of the month of October, 1938, at 6 o’clock in the morning, Mrs. Dorothy Hale committed suicide by throwing herself out of a very high window of the Hampshire House building. In her memory, this portrait was executed by Frida Kahlo.”

When Luce received the painting, she seriously considered destroying it, but was persuaded by friends to desist. The arresting and controversial work remained in storage for decades before being donated “anonymously” to the Phoenix Art Museum in 1960.

7. She arrived at her first solo exhibition in Mexico in an ambulance.

Kahlo’s first major solo exhibition was held at the Julien Levy Gallery in 1938 in New York City, and one year later, her works were part of a collective exhibition entitled Mexique, shown at the Galerie Renou et Colle in Paris. The French surrealist André Breton described her art as “a ribbon around a bomb.”

Due to declining health during her final years, Kahlo rarely ventured outside of the Blue House, and had to use a wheelchair and crutches to get around. In April 1953, her first solo exhibition in Mexico opened at the Galería de Arte Contemporáneo. At the time, Kahlo was on bed rest under doctor’s orders and not expected to attend. However, she made sure to be there, arriving by ambulance to a mystified crowd, ordering that her four-poster bed be moved into the gallery. She was brought in on a stretcher to the bed, where she was able to enjoy the event.

8. She made a most memorable exit from life.

Kahlo was transported to the crematorium at the Panteón Civil de Dolores, and her body was lifted out of the coffin and laid in a cart that would carry her along iron tracks to the cemetery. So desperate were people to have a memento of Kahlo that onlookers pulled at the rings on her fingers even as her body moved toward the crematorium fire. Witnesses who were in the small chamber containing the furnace claimed that a sudden blast of heat from the open incinerator doors caused Kahlo’s corpse to sit bolt upright, and when the flames ignited her hair, forming an aura around her face, her lips appeared to part in a grin just before the doors closed shut.

What the Water Gave Me by Frida Kahlo, 1938

9. She was underappreciated as an artist in her lifetime.

Kahlo’s work was largely overshadowed by that of her husband during her lifetime. This was partly because the complexity of her art was difficult for an international audience to categorize. Kahlo’s most famous works, her autorretratos, or self-portraits, combine elements of realism, surrealism and indigenous Mexican symbolism.

Breton, an original member of the Dada group and the founder of the Surrealist movement in 1924, visited Kahlo in Mexico in 1938 while she was working on Lo Que el Agua Me Dio (What the Water Gave Me). Breton was transfixed by it, calling Kahlo a “natural surrealist.” Kahlo rejected the label and replied, “I never painted dreams. I paint my own reality.”

When Kahlo died at the early age of 47 in 1954, Rivera begged his friend and patroness of the arts, Dolores Olmedo to purchase 25 of Kahlo’s paintings for a mere $1,600. He wanted to make sure that an important part of his wife’s work remained in Mexico. –Duke

“A sudden blast of heat from the incinerator caused Frida’s corpse to sit bolt upright. Flames ignited her hair, forming an aura around her face, and her lips parted into a grin just before the doors closed shut. ”

La Casa Azul, the Frida Kahlo Museum in Mexico City

Explore the quirky blue-painted home-turned-museum where the bohemian Mexican artist was born and lived while married to muralist Diego Rivera.

You can wander through the home Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera lived in

One destination that was at the top of our list to visit while in CDMX was La Casa Azul, or the Blue House, the former home and studio of Mexican artist and revolutionary cultural icon Frida Kahlo.

The first thing to capture your attention upon arrival at the corner of Calles Londres and Allende, which is now the Museo Frida Kahlo, are the vibrant cobalt-blue walls that rise straight up from the sidewalk. They reminded me of the intense blue used by French painter Jacques Majorelle in his garden acquired by Yves St. Laurent and Pierre Bergé in Marrakech, Morocco.

“To be in the former home of this captivating, self-willed individual was an amazing and moving experience. ”

Get your tickets well before you visit — and get the earliest time available to cut down on crowds

The other was the line of people waiting to gain admission. After reading how popular the destination is, we purchased and printed our tickets in advance for the first available self-guided tour of the day to avoid the crowds. If you show up without a ticket, we’ve heard you can expect to wait up to four hours, as the museum limits the amount of people allowed inside. Even if you get your tickets in advance, plan on getting into line half an hour early so you’re at the beginning of your group.

Portrait of Frida Kahlo by Roberto Montenegro, 1936

You can download an electronic version of your ticket, which will be scanned by one of the museum docents. If you’d like to take pictures inside, which we did, you’ll need to purchase a photography pass for an extra fee of about 30 pesos, or $1.50.

Keep in mind that the cost of your ticket also includes admission to the Anahuacalli Museum, designed by Diego Rivera to contain his impressive collection of pre-Columbian art. It’s great fun to explore.

Duke leans on the iconic blue walls of La Casa Azul while we wait to go in

It’s cool being able to explore the home shared by these two famous artists

Inside La Casa Azul

At the entry, you’re met by a few of Kahlo’s fantastical and monstrous papier-mâché folk art alebrije figures, traditionally representing Satan and Judas, which are filled with firecrackers and exploded on Sabado de Gloria, the Saturday before Easter.

Part of the courtyard includes this tiled pool

Built around an open-air central courtyard, the interior of the house offers visitors a chance to catch a glimpse into Frida’s creative universe. Each room is organized by theme, many exactly as Kahlo left them. The first room Wally and I entered was originally the formal living room, where the Riveras hosted storied intellectual guests from Gershwin to Trotsky and now functions as a gallery featuring a selection of Frida’s lesser-known paintings. Of note is Portrait of My Father, made by Kahlo 10 years after her father’s death with the dedication “I painted my father Wilhelm Kahlo, of Hungarian-German origin, artist-photographer by profession, in character generous, intelligent and fine, valiant because he suffered for 60 years with epilepsy, but never gave up working and fought against Hitler. With adoration, his daughter, Frida Kahlo,” and a still life depicting sliced watermelons inscribed with the phrase “Viva la Vida” or, Long Live Life.

Marxism Will Give Health to the Sick by Frida Kahlo, 1954

Portrait of My Father by Frida Kahlo, 1951

Viva la Vida by Frida Kahlo, 1954 — the last of her paintings she signed

The next room held a delightful miniature puppet theater created by Frida. One of my favorite items in the house, it contained a cat or perhaps jaguar, a seated woman, a skeleton with a red sash around its waist and an alligator suspended in the air. Also on display was a painting by Diego Rivera titled La Quebrada. The inscription in the lower right corner reads, “A La Niña Fridita Kahlo la maravillosa. El 7 de Julio de 1956 a los dos años que duerme en cenizas, viva en mi corazón” (To the little girl Fridita Kahlo, the wonderful one. On July 7, 1956, two years since she went to sleep in the ashes, she lives on in my heart.)

We especially loved this kinda creepy puppet theater Frida created

Moving farther along, white painted ceiling beams and bold blue, yellow and white glazed tiles complement the kitchen countertop and frame the chimney. Kahlo embellished the walls surrounding the wood-burning stove using miniature glazed clay mugs to whimsically spell out her and Diego’s names. On the opposite wall are two doves tying a lovers’ knot and a pair of pumpkin-shaped clay tureens sitting atop a long yellow table.

Frida spelled out her and Diego’s names in miniature clay mugs on the wall above her stove

A glimpse into Frida’s kitchen

The neutral tones of earthenware pottery pair nicely with the bright blue and yellow tiles

Next to the kitchen, the dining room shares the same vibrant color scheme with bright yellow open storage shelving chock full of colored glassware, earthenware pots, plates and indigenous artifacts.  

The dining room

A bright yellow cabinet displaying some of Frida’s collections

Rivera’s small bedroom is tucked off to the side of the dining room. A pillow sitting on a vintage armchair is embroidered with the words “Despierta Corazon Dormido” (Wake Up, Sleeping Heart). Outside this room, a flight of stairs leads to the second floor library and studio, an addition by Rivera.

The small room Diego stayed in also once housed Leon Trotsky, with whom Frida had an affair

Up in the studio, large steel-framed windows look out to the garden and fill the room with natural light. There’s also an enviable collection of books. Kahlo’s small wooden work desk holds an assortment of brushes, a palette, a mirror and small glass bottles of pigment waiting to be mixed for use.

Frida’s work table: where the magic happened

The materials Frida used in her paintings

Color pigments Frida used to create her paint

Adjacent to these tools, a wheelchair faces an easel with the painting Still Life With Flag — a reminder that Frida experienced a series of life events that left her in chronic pain. At the age of 6, she contracted polio, which left her right leg withered and shorter than her left, causing her to limp. In her teens, while traveling home from school, the bus on which she was riding was hit by a streetcar. She sustained serious trauma, including multiple fractures of the clavicle, ribs and spine, and was pierced by an iron handrail from the streetcar that impaled her pelvis. Frida miraculously survived and and began painting self-portraits — her reality captured by a mirror within the intimacy of her own studio at home. She once said, “I paint myself because I am so often alone and because I am the subject I know best.”

In poor health for much of her life, Frida had to paint in a wheelchair now and then

Immediately off the artists studio are a pair of Kahlo’s four-poster beds. As Frida was frequently bedridden, her day bed is fitted with a mirror above that she would use to paint while convalescing. Because she died in this room in 1954, her death mask fittingly (yet creepily) rests atop the bed. On the wall behind the headboard, a skeleton with tiny arms wearing a top hat and a painting of a presumably dead child with a garland of purple poppy flowers watch over the bed.

Frida’s death mask sits on her bed

Frida’s night bed has a framed grouping of butterfly specimens attached to the panel above. These were given to her by Japanese-American sculptor Isamu Noguchi. On a lace-topped table nearby a headless pre-Columbian urn contains her ashes. A cabinet of toys rendered in miniature are displayed off to the right.

The large urn to the left contains Frida’s ashes

We exited via a staircase from Frida’s day room in the central courtyard and followed a winding path that led us past a stepped pyramidal structure, added and built by Rivera, a pedestal to display their pre-Columbian sculptures in the garden. Frida loved botany and collected many species of plants native to Mexico and created a garden abundant with yuccas, bougainvilleas, cacti, jasmine and agave.

Wally and Duke on the patio leading to the central courtyard

Diego especially loved pre-Columbian artifacts

A large ofrenda is set up in the garden

Around back you’ll find an opportunity to pretend to be Frida and Diego

An ancillary building contains an exhibit named after a drawing Kahlo made in 1946: Appearances Can Be Deceiving, where the artist drew herself, showing an X-ray view through her traditional Tehuana dress to reveal her injured leg and plaster corset. The first room displays a few of Kahlo’s personal objects used in relation to her medical condition. There’s also a vitrine with mannequins wearing Kahlo’s distinctive Tehuana dresses and headpieces. She favored the huipil, a boxy blouse, rebozo shawl and long skirt, a representation of Kahlo’s authentic Mexican femininity. There’s also a couture dress with a buckled corset by fashion designer and provocateur Jean Paul Gaultier whose 1998 spring-summer runway was titled Tribute to Frida Kahlo. In this same case is a dress by Rei Kawakubo for Comme des Garçons surrounded by a sort of hoop cage, and in the last room there’s a delicately embroidered bodysuit with an incredible fringe jacket by Roberto Tisci for Givenchy.

An outbuilding houses some of Frida’s distinctive outfits

A dress by Comme des Garçons (left) and The Freckles by Gaultier

To be in the former home of this captivating, self-willed individual was an amazing and moving experience. Like Kahlo, La Casa Azul has many layers — its details bear witness to her inspired magpie approach, filled with objects that carried personal meaning to Kahlo and are reflected in her fascinating collection of arte popular. –Duke

La Casa Azul, the Museo Frida Kahlo

Frida Kahlo Museum
Londres 247
Del Carmen
04100 Ciudad de México, CDMX
Mexico

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LOVE FRIDA? READ ABOUT THE DOLORES OLMEDO MUSEUM

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10 Most Instagrammable Places in Mexico City's Centro

A photographer’s tour of the CDMX historic district, from the Palacio de Bellas Artes to the Gran Hotel Ciudad de México.

CDMX, as the cool kids call it, is full of stunning design, a mind-blowing mix of colonial architecture and modern marvels. Here are some of our favorites to help you get started on a cultural and Insta-worthy tour of the city’s historic heart.

Centro Histórico

A chandelier hangs above the holy ark

The second and third floors of the Sinagoga Histórica have some beautiful elements

Look up to see the folk art-styled ceiling, with its gorgeous color pallette

1. Sinagoga Histórica Justo Sierra 71

Start your tour with this hidden gem, built and established by the Ashkenazi, Eastern European Jews who arrived in Mexico City as refugees escaping persecution in the early 1940s. The Historic Synagogue, or Templo Nidje Israel, is entered through an interior courtyard beyond the building’s colonial façade (and a somewhat grumpy guard).

The interior contains a rather plain assembly hall on the first floor, but the sanctuary located on the second floor is impressive, said to be modeled after a synagogue in Lithuania. Make sure to look up at the vaulted clerestory ceiling intricately painted in hues of rust, mustard yellow, blue and green. An elaborately carved platform stands in the center of the room and faces the richly ornamented aron kodesh, or holy ark, surrounded by folk art elements typical of Eastern European villages. The sacred Torah scrolls were once kept behind the blue velvet curtain panel embroidered with silver thread.

Justo Sierra 71

What seemed to be a bizarre fantasy video game ad was playing in the courtyard while we visited

Open archways line the corridors of the ex-college

You’ll spot murals all over the Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso

2. Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso

A block or so down from the synagogue is a former Jesuit boarding school that has since been transformed into a museum and cultural center. After the Jesuits were expelled from the city, the building temporarily served as barracks for the Mexican army before becoming the National Preparatory School. The site is considered to be the birthplace of the Mexican muralism movement and features murals painted by David Alfaro, José Clemente Orozco (Wally’s personal fave) and Diego Rivera.

Justo Sierra 16

La Casa de las Sirenas is located within one of the first colonial mansions in Mexico City

Our al fresco meal was delicious

Grab a bite on the rooftop terrace, which overlooks the back of the cathedral

3. La Casa de las Sirenas

The frieze on the façade of this former 17th century colonial abode features a Caravaca cross flanked by a pair of mermaids, which gives the restaurant its name, the House of the Mermaids.

We ate a delicious lunch on the rooftop terrace with a spectacular view overlooking the extremely disappointing Templo Mayor and the back of the impressive Catedral Metropolitana, while an organ grinder played a whimsical tune over and over from the street below.

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The Metropolitan Cathedral organ

This over-the-top golden altar is just one of many inside the massive cathedral

Saints galore in various niches in this Baroque church — note the highly realistic detail on his hand

4. Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral

This massive Baroque-style cathedral dominating the northern side of the Zócalo plaza was built in stages between 1573 to 1873, shortly after Hernán Cortés and his conquistadors defeated the Aztec Empire. Among the oldest and largest cathedrals in the Americas, much of it was built using stones pilfered from the Templo Mayor. (Maybe that’s why the temple’s ruins are so unimpressive.) Step inside to see the large, ornate Altar of the Kings, collection of paintings, pipe organ and statuary.

Plaza de la Constitución s/n

Pop into the lobby of the Gran Hotel to marvel at the stained glass ceiling and ironwork

The curving balconies and organic grillwork on the cage elevators make this Art Nouveau gem worth a shot or two

5. Gran Hotel Ciudad de México

After binge-watching the Spanish soap series Gran Hotel on Netflix, we had to go inside this historic Art Nouveau gem of the same name. It was originally the city’s most luxurious department store, known as el Centro Mercanti — in fact, you can still see the monogram “CM” in the stained-glass ceiling designed by French glass artist Jacques Grüber as well as the railings. Fun fact: The interior is featured in the opening scenes of the James Bond film Spectre.

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This building is known colloquially as the House of Tiles

This distinctive tiled building is now a Sanborns department store

6. Casa de los Azulejos

Meaning “the House of Tiles” in Spanish, the exterior of this 16th century building is embellished with tin-glazed ceramic tilework known as azulejos, from Puebla, Mexico. The property was originally the residence of the Valle de Orizaba counts, one of the wealthiest families in the country. It was purchased by brothers Walter and Frank Sanborn in 1919 and converted into the flagship location of Sanborns, a Mexican department store and restaurant chain.

Av Francisco I. Madero 4

Since you’re in the area, you should pop into the Palacio Postal just to check out the amazing staircase

Things are looking up at the Postal Palace

7. Palacio Postal

Also known as the Correo Mayor, the Postal Palace was built by Italian architect Adamo Boari and Mexican engineer Gonzalo Garita and has been in continuous operation since it first opened in 1907. The interior was restored to its original gilded splendor with the help of Boari’s granddaughter, who had the original building plans in Italy. The money shot is of a pair of grand interconnecting staircases embellished with vegetal brass balustrades that almost appear to be alive. My only regret is that we weren’t able to send a postcard home while there.

C. Tacuba 1, Cuauhtémoc

To get this money shot, you have to go into the Sears department store across the street

8. Palacio de Bellas Artes

We didn’t get to go inside on this visit. But the secret to an amazing aerial shot is to head over to the Sears department store directly across the street. (If you don’t want to have a snack or drink on the balcony café, just go up one more floor and press your camera against the glass as we did.)

Designed by the same architect as the Palacio Postal, the building’s gorgeously photogenic Art Nouveau exterior is topped by a lattice of iron and a shimmering iridescent ombre-tiled dome. At the very top, the Mexican eagle perches on a cactus with a serpent in its beak, with the four figures beneath representing the personifications of the dramatic arts.  

The plaza includes various sculptures, including four Pegasus statues designed by Catalan Agustí Querol Subirats, as well as the famous Mexico City Olympics logo — way too popular with tourists to get a good picture of.

Av. Juárez

The Hemiciclo a Benito Juárez monument

A large green space sits right next to the plaza of the Palacio de Bellas Artes

9. Alameda Central

This leafy park was created in 1525 on what was previously the site of an Aztec marketplace. Its name comes from the word alámo, Spanish for poplar tree — which can be found in abundance throughout the park. You’ll encounter children playing in empty fountain basins and locals of all ages meandering or sitting on benches along the many paths. The Kiosco Morisco was located there briefly and used as a pavilion to announce lottery winners before being moved to make way for the semicircular Neoclassical Hemiciclo a Benito Juárez monument, dedicated to the former Mexican president.

Av. Hidalgo s/n

This fountain is right across from Alameda Central and is worth a quick visit to get the Insta shot

Governmental buildings and the Museum of Memory and Tolerance surround the fountain

País de Volcanes (Country of Volcanoes) by Ricardo Legorreta

10. Fuente de Vicente Rojo

Across from Alameda Park, tucked into the courtyard of the Museo Memoria y Tolerancia surrounded by governmental offices is a fountain designed by Mexican visual artist Vicente Rojo and architect Ricardo Legorreta. Titled País de Volcanes (Country of Volcanoes), it features more than 1,000 small burnt red concrete pyramids emerging from a sunken reflecting pool, a reference to the coarse volcanic tezontle stone widely used by the Aztecs. –Duke

Av. Juárez 44

The Fantastical Woodcut Illustrations of Pau Masiques

A Q&A with the Monterrey, Mexico-based artist, who designs everything from children’s books, comics, posters and chocolate wrappers.

Bubble by Pau Masiques

The Ignacia Guest House is filled with wonderful art, objects and books on architecture. After Wally and I were given a tour, I walked up to one of the framed woodcuts with a depiction of the former beloved housekeeper Ignacia, for whom the boutique hotel is named, to jot down the artist’s name, which was signed in graphite in the lower right corner: Pau Masiques.

We loved how he captured the essence of this well-loved woman at two stages of her life. So I decided to reach out to Masiques to learn more about his process and inspirations.

“Drawing is like being involved in a great debate in which your work participates in a shared dialogue with that of other creators. ”

— Pau Masiques

Blindada

Masiques combines technology with tradition, transforming woodblocks into mesmerizing artwork. Whether it’s a woman wearing a city as a crown, her head encircled by an endless line of cars emitting fumes, or a squatting Hercules wearing the hide of the Nemean lion, with Medusa and Minotaur perched upon the bent barbell gripped between his teeth, Masiques pulls us into the illustration and the story it tells. His works evoke the warped whimsy of fairy tales and folklore, so of course we were drawn to him. –Duke

Hèrcules

You created custom artwork for the Ignacia Guest House. Did the owners approach you, and how did you come up with the concept?

I heard about the commission from a friend and found it to be a very appealing proposal.

Recibí el encargo por parte de un amigo, me habló del proyecto y me pareció muy atractiva la propuesta.

When did you realize you were artistically inclined?

I’ve always liked to draw. I don’t remember exactly when this began, but I guess it was when I was very young, like all children — at that age we all have the creative potential to become artists.

Something that’s been with me from an early age is my love of comics. I think that’s what fueled my interest in drawing, in literature and a general curiosity about the world around me.

Siempre me ha gustado dibujar, no recuerdo cuando empecé, supongo que muy temprano como todos los niños, a esa edad todos tenemos un gran potencial como artistas plásticos.

Lo que me ha acompañado siempre, desde muy pequeño, es mi afición a leer cómics y eso creo que fue lo que alimentó mi interés por el dibujo, por la literatura y la curiosidad en general por el mundo que me rodea.

La sel·lecció natural campiona mundial

How did your career as an illustrator begin?

I took some comic and drawing courses during my childhood and early adolescence, but I wasn’t a very disciplined student at the time. Without putting in effort, your talent doesn't improve.

It wasn’t until later, while pursuing an illustration degree at the Escola Massana in Barcelona that the idea of becoming a professional illustrator occured to me. My connection to my professors, who had rich, creative careers in illustration, excited me and encouraged my dedication to that profession.

En mi niñez y adolescencia tomé algunos cursos de dibujo y cómic pero no era un alumno muy disciplinado en aquel momento, y sin esfuerzo las cosas no salen.

No fue hasta que empecé más tarde en la especialidad de ilustración de la Escola Massana de Barcelona que la idea de dedicarme profesionalmente a la ilustración me pareció posible. El contacto con maestros que tenían una rica vida profesional me animó y estimuló a dedicarme a la ilustración.

Ánimas

Tell us about your process. What materials and tools do you use?

I always carry a couple of notebooks with me. I use them to collect my ideas, whatever they may be: ideas that arise from an ephemeral need of their own or those of a commision. These sketches are the foundation, which I continue to elaborate using digital image processing software. Even when they’re made into a woodcut, the image I’m going to carve into the wood has been refined and retouched using a computer. The end result is closer to what I have on screen. However, there are elements that are impossible to reproduce using this technology that engraving offers. There’s a special vibration in the stroke and line when using a hand tool. Accidents that are the result of chance, which only occur by working directly with the materials, bring much more depth and strength to the end result.

Suelo llevar siempre conmigo un par de cuadernos, los uso para verter ahí mis ideas, sean cuales sean: ideas que surgen a partir de una necesidad expresiva propia o las de un encargo profesional. Esos bocetos son el origen, luego sigo elaborando mucho más el dibujo usando un software de tratamiento de imágenes. Incluso cuando realizo una xilografía, la imagen que voy a tallar en la madera la he revisado y retocado en la computadora, así me aseguro que el resultado final es más próximo al que tengo en pantalla, en el aspecto compositivo sobretodo, sin embargo hay cosas imposibles de reproducir con los medios que ofrece la computadora y que sí ofrece el grabado, hay una especial vibración en el trazo y unos accidentes fruto del azar, que solo trabajando directamente en la materia surgen y que aporta mucha más riqueza y fuerza al resultado final.

Woodcut illustrations influenced by lotería cards

What are your influences? What inspires you?

The woodcuts of Frans Masereel, the work of José-Guadalupe Posada, Manuel Manilla and engravings in general are my most immediate references. The early works of Joan Miró — the painting The Farm for example — means a lot to me because of its closeness to my life. In that image, he represented a world very familiar to me.

I admire any form of expression, however rough, that seems to have a compelling narrative. I’m interested in so-called outsider art, such as the work of Bill Traylor. Through his ingenuity, he was able to reveal his world to us and describe it with enormous beauty and simplicity.

I’m interested in many artists, but perhaps what inspires me most is simplicity and expression, rather than technical skill. For example, while doing research for a recent project, I discovered the work of Jessie Oonark, a brilliant Inuit artist. At the moment, her work is a source of inspiration for me.

Drawing is like being involved in a great debate in which your work participates in a shared dialogue with that of other creators.

Las xilografías de Frans Masereel, la obra de Posadas, la de Manilla y el grabado popular en general son quizá mis referentes más inmediatos. La primera etapa de la obra de Joan Miró también, la pintura La Masía por ejemplo, me conmueve mucho por su cercanía, por representar y condensar en esa imagen un mundo que me es muy familiar.

Admiro cualquier forma de expresión que por tosca que parezca tenga una especial pulsión narrativa, me interesa mucho también el llamado arte “marginal”, como por ejemplo la obra de Bill Traylor, que con su aparente ingenuidad es capaz de desvelarnos su mundo y describirlo con enorme belleza y sencillez.

Me interesan muchísimos artistas, lo que más me inspira es quizá la simplicidad y la fuerza expresiva, más que un supuesto virtuosismo. Hace poco por ejemplo, descubrí a partir de la búsqueda de documentación para un trabajo, la obra de Jessie Oonark, una genial artista inuit, en estos momentos su trabajo es para mi una fuente de inspiración.

Dibujar es como estar metido en un gran debate, en el que tu trabajo dialoga con el de otros creadores.

A page from a comic about black musicians who have died under mysterious circumstances

Do you listen to music when you work?

I usually combine moments of silence with listening to music or radio programs, depending on the degree of concentration needed at that moment.

Suelo combinar momentos de silencio, con otros de música y de escucha de programas de radio. Depende del grado de concentración que necesite en cada momento.

Masiques’ whimsical work has appeared on a line of chocolate bars

Is there a favorite project you’ve worked on?

In general, I’m pretty excited about each commission I receive. I’ve illustrated wrappers for chocolate bars, books, press articles, and posters for concerts and theater workshops. I’ve collaborated in fanzines and I’ve also done solo exhibits of my engravings and sculptures. My favorite thing might be sculpture. It’s something I haven’t done in awhile. I’d say that wood carving and constructing objects are a couple of my favorite practices. I don’t do them as often as I would like — maybe that’s why I choose them as a favorite.

En general suelo ilusionarme con casi todos los encargos que recibo. He ilustrado envolturas para chocolates, libros, artículos de prensa, he realizado posters para conciertos y talleres de teatro, he colaborado en fanzines, también he exhibido mis grabados y esculturas en algunas exposiciones, pero quizá una de mis prácticas favoritas es la de la escultura, y es algo que hace mucho que no hago, podría decir que tallar madera y construir objetos es una de mis prácticas favoritas, y que no realizó tan a menudo como quisiera, quizá por eso la escojo como favorita.

What’s one of your favorite places in Mexico City?

I’ve lived in the north part of the country, in Monterrey, Nuevo León, for about nine years, but I love going to Mexico City, and there are many places that I like. But one place I don’t mind returning to again and again is the National Museum of Anthropology.

Vivo en el norte del país, en Monterrey (Nuevo León) desde hace cerca de nueve años, pero me encanta ir a la Ciudad de México y hay muchos lugares que me gustan, pero un lugar emblemático al que no me importa regresar una y otra vez es el Museo Nacional de Antropología.

Q&A With Mexico City Chef Rodrigo Carrasco

The talented man behind Bowie Cocina de Humo, Tirano and Kitchen6 explains his culinary vision and inspirations.

Chef Rodrigo Carrasco at Bowie

Wally and I had a delightful evening enjoying the smoky cuisine at Bowie in Mexico City’s Colonia Roma neighborhood. It was a wonderful experience and made a lasting impression on us. So much so that I decided to reach out to its chef de cuisine, Rodrigo Carrasco. To my surprise, he kindly accommodated my request to answer some questions and share his story about the origins of his “Kitchen of Smoke,” why it was named after the British music icon David Bowie and what’s next on the horizon. –Duke

“At our country house, we cooked on an open hearth. I saw the power of smoke and got the idea to open a restaurant cooking with smoke and coalfire in the coolest neighborhood in Mexico City.”

— Chef Rodrigo Carrasco

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READ OUR REVIEW OF BOWIE

Subtle smoke flavors, attentive service and a fun musical backdrop made Chef Carrasco’s Roma Norte restaurant our favorite dining experience in CDMX.

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What inspired you to open Bowie?

At my family’s country house in Valle de Bravo, we cooked on an open hearth. I saw the power of smoke and got the idea to open a restaurant cooking with smoke and coalfire in the coolest neighborhood in one of the biggest cities in the world.

En la casa de campo en Valle de Bravo cocinando en una chimenea. Vi el poder del humo y dije háganos un restaurante de ahumado en leña y carbón. En la ciudad más grande del mundo en el barrio más cool.

A trip to Texas helped inspire Carrasco to perfect his barbecue methods. Photo by Juan Carlos Valladolid

What’s your connection to David Bowie?

While traveling through Texas to learn about the various BBQ methods, I came across a county named Bowie, where the Bowie knife was created, and I’d been listening to the music of David Bowie. I didn’t need anything else to know that Bowie would be the name.

Bowie por qué estaba investigado en Texas el proceso del BBQ y llegue a un condado llamado Bowie, había un bowie knife y el playlist era de David Bowie. Dije no hay más bowie será su nombre.

When Carrasco’s not cooking seafood, he’s probably working with steak

Where’s the beef? Carrasco serves it up at his steakhouse, Tirano

Describe the aesthetic and mood of the restaurant.

It’s a contemporary Mexican space. Relaxed, but with elegant design touches, and a kitchen that’s visible from virtually anywhere within the restaurant. I love immersing diners in a theatrical experience.

Un espacio mexicano contemporáneo. Relajado pero con toques de diseño elegantes. La posibilidad de ver la cocina desde todo el lugar me encanta es involucrar a los comensales en una experiencia teatral también.

The chef’s recipes have been perfected over more than two decades of cooking

How did you determine the menu?

It’s a compilation of my best recipes after cooking for more than 20 years: European-inspired ingredients and techniques with a Mexican twist. Always with smoke as the foundation.

Es una compilación de mis mejores recetas luego de cocinar por más de 20 años. Siempre con el humo como fundamento e ingrediente y técnicas mexicanas y europeas.

The pulpo, or octopus, at Bowie is served up on the cutest little grill ever

What’s your favorite thing to cook?

Fish and seafood.

Los pescados y mariscos.

If Chef Carrasco cooks it, chances are it’ll be divine

Where do you find your inspiration?

Music, nature, my Mexican heritage and to let the world know that there’s good cuisine and world-class restaurants in CDMX. That’s what inspires and motivates me.

La música, la naturaleza, mi cultura mexicana, hacerle saber al mundo que en CDMX hay buena cocina y restaurantes de buen nivel. Eso me inspira y me motiva.

How do you choose the music that plays at Bowie?

We have several playlists, I believe. I love music and am always tinkering with it, depending on the day, time and clientele.

For example, on Sundays we get families and grandparents who sing along to the classics of the ’60s. The young people also know these songs. But on Thursday nights we have an ultra hip clientele who prefer house, soul or something more progressive that allows them to dine, drink and enjoy the beat.

These are the basics with the music, and obviously there’s a lot of David Bowie on all the playlists.

Tenemos varios playlist que yo creo. Amo la música y siempre estoy renovando esa parte; la ponemos dependiendo del día, la hora y el target de cliente.

Por ejemplo, el domingo es muy familiar y hacemos que los abuelos canten los clásicos de los 60s y los jóvenes lo conocen, pero los jueves en la noche tenemos clientes ultra cool, que se sienten mejor con el house, el soul, y algo progresivo que les permita beber y disfrutar el beat.

Es así la mecánica con la música, obviamente hay mucha presencia de David en todas las playlist.

Carrasco garners some press

What’s next for you?

I’m the co-owner of two other concepts: Tirano, which is a Mexican steakhouse that’s also in Roma, and Kitchen6, a gastropub on Amsterdam in La Condesa that serves grilled food. In addition, our group is planning on opening a torteria sandwich shop later this year.

Si soy co propietario de otros dos conceptos. Tirano, que es un asador mexicano que reubicamos en la Roma también; y Kitchen6 un gastropub que está en Condesa en Amsterdam, que es cocina de grill. En el grupo, planeamos la apertura de una torteria este año de igual forma.

Bowie: One of the Best Restaurants in Mexico City

Chef Rodrigo Carrasco works his magic with a delicious smoke-themed menu at our favorite CDMX dinner spot.

The chic interior, fun playlists and attentive service helped make Bowie our best dining experience in CDMX.

Instead of a Thanksgiving dinner of turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes, Wally and I decided to take a trip to Mexico City. If we were going to miss the traditional American meal, we wanted something equally delicious. So we took the suggestion of Magda, a manager at the Ignacia Guest House, where we were staying, and decided upon Bowie.

The restaurant is a stone's throw from Avenida Álvaro Obregón, the main thoroughfare in the hip Roma Norte neighborhood. Named after the memorable performer, Bowie is the creation of Mexican chef Rodrigo Carrasco.

“Bowie straddles the line between restaurant and theater.

The dish arrived under a glass dome, concealed by a miniature cloud that hung motionless before vanishing in a wisp of woodsmoke.”

This distinctive dining establishment is modern and fashionable, but not pretentious, and is devoted to using smoke as the foundation of all of its dishes — in fact, the words “Cocina de Humo” illuminate one of the walls. And you can’t miss the fantastic, custom-created portrait of David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust made entirely from bottle caps.

Almost all of the dishes are smoked — but not overwhelmingly so.

The restaurant was already buzzing when we arrived, around 8ish. Diners can choose to order à la carte from the menu, but we decided to try the seven-course tasting menu and drink pairing. The first course of beet carpaccio arrived under a glass dome, concealed by a miniature cloud. It hung motionless in the air for a moment before vanishing in a wisp of woodsmoke once our server removed the lid with flair.

The visual appeal was matched by the deliciousness of the dish. The delicately flavored beets were topped with savory goat cheese offset by a surprising hit of brightly tart lemon dressing. A single bite — and boom! We had fallen in love with Bowie. We had never tasted anything like this, and it was just the beginning.

The dramatic reveal of the beet appetizer. Photo by Jordana Btp

Our first couple of courses were paired with an artisanal Mexican IPA. We don’t typically like American IPAs as they’re too hoppy, but this one tasted like a farmhouse ale — more our speed.

The following courses were served with Blanc de Pacs, an organic white wine from Penedès, Spain, and Bolero, a Mexican red blend from Valle de San Vicente in Baja California Sur.

Beyond the bar, you can peek into the kitchen at Bowie.

Bowie straddles the line between restaurant and theater, and it quickly became clear that we were about to embark on a culinary adventure.

The pulpo came on an adorable tiny grill.

The truffled steak tartare was served in a vessel reminiscent of a glass mushroom. Filled with bite-size chunks of red meat and portobello mushrooms, it was like eating your way through an ethereal terrarium.

Another standout was the slow-cooked short ribs with a smoked pumpkin purée, dressed with a whiskey reduction sauce. It was smoky and sweet, and immensely satisfying.

The dessert, a riff on s’mores, arrived near the end of the tasting menu. Served it a small cast iron skillet, it was utterly delicious and topped with housemade marshmallows, layered with bananas, chocolate and a shortbread crust, toasted by our server with a handheld butane torch.

Duke and Wally absolutely loved their experience at Bowie.

In short, this incredible meal set a high bar and made us feel like kids again — though our adult palettes delighted in the impressive sophistication of the dishes as well. A meal at Bowie is an experience we would be happy to have any day. –Duke

NOTE: We heard that, sadly, Bowie has permanently closed.

Grab a bite at Bowie — especially if you’re in the Roma neighborhood of Mexico City.

Bowie
Córdoba 113
Roma Norte
06700 Ciudad de México
CDMX, Mexico

Biblioteca Vasconcelos: A Futuristic Architectural Marvel

Architect Alberto Kalach’s amazing library in Mexico City contains bookshelves that hang from the ceiling, and a whale bone sculpture by artist Gabriel Orozco.

Off-the-beaten-path CDMX: la Biblioteca Vasconcelos

After a visit to the labyrinthine and often-claustrophobic Mercado de Sonora Witch’s Market, Duke and I took a short Uber ride to the Biblioteca Vasconcelos in the Colonia Buenavista neighborhood. Dedicated to José Vasconcelos, a Mexican writer, philosopher and politician, the library’s interior is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

“Story after story of metal and glass bookcases defy logic, floating above like a science fiction version of Hogwarts. ”

Wally and Duke in ecstasy: Who needs to go to church when you’ve got a library like this?

The interior is like stepping into an M.C. Escher drawing

Don’t Judge a Book by Its Cover

From the building’s exterior — a fortress of concrete and steel grillwork — you’d never imagine the airy futuristic interior within. However, getting into the hallowed repository of knowledge was a bit tricky. Initially, Duke and I saw the gaping maw of the parking garage and wondered if we had to enter there. We skirted around to the right of the building in an attempt to gain access. When we realized there wasn’t an entrance there either, we paused to ask a local who was walking his dog. He gestured to the left side of the library. We thanked him and made our way over to a courtyard with a couple of smaller buildings and the main entrance.

The exterior of the library isn’t too impressive — but just wait till you step inside!

When we first stepped foot inside the 400,000-square-foot Biblioteca Vasconcelos, designed by Mexican architect Alberto Kalach, we could barely contain our giddiness. We looked around in wonder, our necks craning in every direction.

The floating stacks are a novel way, pun intended, to display books

Story after story of metal and glass bookcases defy logic, while simultaneously offering a sense of complete order, floating above like a science fiction version of Hogwarts. Thin steel beams seem barely able to support the monumental stacks filled with books. Hazy silhouettes of patrons can be glimpsed through translucent sea-green catwalks.

Greenish-blue semitranslucent walkways connect the stacks

Seating areas seen from across the expanse

We felt as though we had entered a sacred space, one that evoked the same reverence of the organic space-age architecture of La Sagrada Família church in Barcelona, Spain.

The exhibit Vientos de Japón (Winds of Japan) by master calligrapher Ryuho Hamano was on display when we visited

Duke daring to lean against the thin wire railing

Wally chose a more secure spot for his portrait

Sunlight plays a major role at the Biblioteca Vasconcelos, filling the interior with natural light. Ingenious louvered glass panels soften the sun's rays and keep the library from getting too hot.

The far ends of the library offer expansive views of the city

As we passed by the first floor patios, we saw teens practicing dance routines, mimicking the choreography seen in some pop star’s latest music video. Beyond them, we could see the sprawling botanic garden that surrounds the structure. During our stay in Mexico City, we saw chilangos of all ages, from teens to seniors, dancing in public spaces.

A botanic park surrounds the structure

Whenever I got too close to the cable rails on the upper floors of the library, my head would spin with vertigo. It became clear that this was a library for the brave. God forbid I needed a book located at the end of one of these stacks.

Looking down at Gabriel Orozco’s hanging sculpture, Mobile Matrix

A Whale of a Time: Orozco’s Mobile Matrix

Hovering above the central atrium hall is the striking Mátrix Móvil (Mobile Matrix in English), an intricately inscribed gray whale skeleton fitted onto a metal armature. Conceptual artist Gabriel Orozco and his team used over 6,000 mechanical pencils to etch concentric circles onto the bones, which stretch over 38 feet long. I learned that the whale had died after beaching itself on the Baja Peninsula during a migratory trip along the Mexican Pacific coast. The art piece adds a museum-like quality to the space.

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A peek at the whale bone sculpture

There’s a lot to see in Mexico City, but the Biblioteca Vasconcelos is worth adding to your itinerary. It’s quite close to CDMX’s historic Centro. And when you’re done exploring this modern marvel (and have taken copious amounts of photos), head past the Buenavista rail and bus station and cross the overpass that spans the bustling Avenida Insurgentes. A 10-minute walk straight down Calle Salvador Díaz Mirón will bring you to the colorful Kiosco Morisco in the nearby Santa María la Ribera neighborhood. –Wally

A forest of paper cylinders with Japanese kana characters on display at the entrance

Duke poses in front of the art exhibit

There are elevators for those who don’t want to walk up all those stairs

One of the rooms along the sides of the library was filled with women knitting a cool cactus

Peek-a-boo! Duke looks through one of the stacks near the edge of the railing

Biblioteca Vasconcelos

Mosqueta
Eje 1 Norte S/N
Buenavista
06350 Ciudad de México
CDMX, México

The Magnificent Parroquia San Juan Bautista

Don’t miss la Iglesia de Coyoacán, a striking example of Spanish colonial history and one of the oldest surviving houses of worship in Mexico City.

Add la Iglesia de Coyoacán to your itinerary when exploring this boho neighborhood.

After lunch at Los Danzantes, Wally and I made our way from the leafy Jardín Centenario and crossed Calle Carrillo Puerto, the street that separates the adjacent Plaza Centenario and Plaza Hidalgo.

Presiding over the south side of the Plaza Hidalgo and directly in our line of vision was the Parroquia San Juan Bautista, known locally as la Iglesia de Coyoacán, the Catholic church and former mission dedicated to Saint John the Baptist. The Spanish first introduced Christianity to the indigenous Nahuatl people in the early 16th century.

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A WALKING TOUR OF ARTSY COYOACÁN

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In front of the church entrance is a cobblestone square that originally extended into what is now Plaza Centenario. During the colonial period, the square was used to host religious one act dramatizations known as autos sacramentales. Rather than completely abandon old beliefs, the missionaries adopted a strategy to spread the new faith by incorporating indigenous ritual practices that had similarities to Christianity.

A four-story bell tower, which was added later, in the 18th century, stands to the west of the main church and was once topped by a dome, lantern and cross. Sadly, the dome collapsed during an earthquake in September 2017.

The church was built on the site of a school for Aztec nobles.

“San Juan Bautista was built upon the site of a calmecac, a school for Aztec nobility, whose ruins still exist beneath the cloister. ”

The relatively plain façade is in the Herrerian style, named after Spanish architect and mathematician Juan de Herrera. This architectural style is characterized by clean geometric lines and is almost entirely absent of ornamentation, with the exception of grooved classical pilasters, columns of the Ionic order set into the face of the church. An inscription in Latin above the door translates to, “There is none other but a house of God, and this a gate of the heavens.”

The exterior is plain, but the interior is anything but, as this ornate altar attests.

Above in bas-relief, are the coat of arms of the Roman Catholic Order of Preachers, better known as the Dominicans. The petals of the fleur-de-lis cross symbolize the 12 apostles. Another carving depicts a sort of monogram of the Virgin Mary — a crown with the intertwined letters A and M for Ave Maria.

Gorgeous archways and ceiling frescos adorn San Juan Bautista.

Construction of the church happened in fits and starts, between 1527 and 1552, on land donated to conquistador Hernan Cortés by the native Ixtolinque chief, who was baptized into the Catholic faith under the name of Juan de Guzmán. Under the direction of the Dominican order, San Juan Bautista was built upon the site of a calmecac, a school for the sons of Aztec nobility, whose ruins still exist beneath the cloister. The original structure was designed as a basilica, with a simple rectangular floor plan used in temple architecture.

In 1934, the church was declared a historic monument by the government of the republic.

The sides of the church’s interior are gloriously gilded.

Going for Baroque

If you’re like Wally and me, you can’t go to a city without exploring a few churches, and the Parroquia San Juan Bautista did not disappoint. Stepping inside, we immediately noticed the exuberant interior, modified between 1926 and 1947 to reflect the prevailing Baroque style and reduced to a single nave flanked by seven small chapels on either side.

If it’s not Baroque, don’t fix it.

The ubiquitous Virgin of Guadalupe

Among the most striking works are the illusion-inducing ceiling frescoes depicting scenes from the life of Christ by Catalan painter Juan de Fabregat. Angels perch high above the column capitals lining the walls and culminate in the magnificent Chapel of the Rosary, with its lavishly decorated high altar embellished with the glow of gold leaf.

The ceiling depicts scenes from the life of Jesus, including the Sermon on the Mount.

It’s certainly worth popping into Coyoacán’s main church for a quick wander.

An angel guards over the dome at the front of the church.

We paused to admire the vitrine with (the admittedly creepy) el Cristo de los Milagros, Christ of the Miracles, with a mystical assemblage of gold and pewter milagros, healing charms, pinned to a sea of red ribbons. Milagros of a specific body part, such as a leg, are used in a prayer for the improvement for some condition associated with a leg, such as arthritis or a bad knee. Some of the milagros had photos of the person to be healed.

The creepy, life-size Cristo de los Milagros

If you want to be healed of an ailment, leave a milagro of the proper body part and maybe a photo, then tie a red ribbon and pin it to the wall.

Oh, baby! One of the strange icons to offer devotions to at the Iglesia de Coyoacán

Other works were designed to appeal to the emotions of the faithful and feature biblical depictions of the lives of the saints of the Franciscan order, including the Vision of Saint Teresa, the taking of the habit of Santa Clara, and the stigmatizations of San Francisco, Saint Domingo and San Juan.

Expect an inundation of elaborate ornamentation.

Converting the infidels

Gold-painted statuary and frills line the sides of the church.

Corpse-like mannequins can seem a strange inclusion to a church.

One of the niches on the right-hand side of the church

We passed through a doorway into a small chapel, where a small group of students was sketching. This led out to an arched arcade of Tuscan columns. This was the cloister of the convent, perhaps founded by Friar Juan de la Cruz, an indigenous man who spoke Castilian Spanish. Within the convent’s walls, Nahuatl people were baptized and taught the tenets of the Christian faith.

Out back you can explore the quiet cloisters.

This might have been where indigenous people were baptized into the Catholic faith.

A group of students was sketching when we visited.

Like the neighborhood itself, the church is a destination full of rich culture. So if you should find yourself in Coyoacán, make sure to spend some time exploring the Parroquia San Juan Bautista. Like us, you’ll be glad you did. –Duke

La Iglesia de Coyoacán

Parroquia San Juan Bautista
Plaza Centenario 8
Villa Coyoacán
04000 Coyoacán
CDMX, Mexico

A Perfect Afternoon in Artsy Coyoacán

Follow our six-stop walking tour of Mexico City’s bohemian neighborhood, including Plaza Hidalgo and Los Danzantes restaurant.

After visiting Frida’s house, explore the boho hood of Coyoacán and purchase some traditional regional handicrafts at the artisanal market.

There’s much to do in the charming neighborhood of Coyoacán beyond La Casa Azul, the lifelong home and studio of famed Mexican painter Frida Kahlo.

The municipality’s name comes from Coyohuacan, Nahuatl for “the Place of Coyotes.” This colonia, or neighborhood, features meandering streets filled with well-preserved colonial buildings, delicious restaurants and handicraft markets waiting to be explored.

You’ll see balloon vendors all over CDMX.

All you’ll need for a perfect afternoon in Coyoacán is a comfortable pair of shoes and a sense of adventure — the area is walkable, and all of the stops listed below can easily be explored by foot.

The Fuente de los Coyotes in Coyoacán

Make a Splash

Stop 1: Plaza Hidalgo

Your journey begins in the historic heart of Coyoacán, just a few blocks from La Casa Azul. On Avenida Francisco Sosa, you’ll find not one, but two public squares: Jardín Centenario, which memorializes the 100th anniversary of Mexico’s independence, and the Plaza Hidalgo. Together they form a typical colonial town square, complete with benches for people-watching, gazebos for music and vendors selling balloons.

Near the entrance of Plaza Hidalgo, a street artist was selling woven palm-leaf crickets. We purchased a pair for 50 pesos each (about $2.50), and as the vendor was handing them to us, a woman seated on a nearby bench offered her advice by telling us to use hairspray to keep them green.

People push crickets on you everywhere you go in Mexico City. These palm ones are more appetizing than the ones in the croquetas we ate.

Here you’ll find a circular stone fountain known as the Fuente de los Coyotes, or Fountain of the Coyotes, the animals from whom the borough takes its name. The iconic landmark occupies the center of the plaza and features two bronze coyotes by sculptor Gabriel Ponzanelli. Numerous spouts located around the perimeter spray graceful arcs of water into the air over the playful pair.

Be sure to stop into the exquisite Iglesia de Coyoacán, the large cathedral, across the way.

Ignacio Allende Esquina Avenida Miguel Hidalgo

Grab a bite on the patio of Los Danzantes, just off the park, for good food and people-watching.

Let’s Dance

Stop 2: Los Danzantes

On the periphery of the square is Los Danzantes, the Dancers, a multi-story restaurant in a colonial-era building with panoramic views of the park. Wally’s coworker Juls lived in Mexico City, and this is one of her favorite restaurants. We were seated outside on the patio terrace, and similar to the cafés of Paris, it was a great place to watch the world go by and enjoy a leisurely meal. While we were there, a guitarist paused for a moment as he passed by, looking to see if there might be an interested party willing to pay him to play a song or two. The restaurant also has its own mezcal distillery and grows seasonal produce in garden plots called chinampas in Xochimilco.

The bar at Los Danzantes

We had ceviche, cricket croquetas and hoja santa (holy leaf), a local specialty stuffed with goat cheese.

Mezcal and a mariachi are all it takes to make Duke happy.

Plaza Jardín Centenario 12

Look for these yellow arches across from the Jardín Centenario to enter the handicraft market.

Get Crafty

Stop 3: Mercado Artesanal Mexicano

After lunch, visit the Mexican Craft Market and walk beneath garlands of fluttering papel picado, colorful cut-tissue paper bunting. The two-story market has dozens of craft stalls featuring a wide variety of traditional Mexican handicrafts and regional specialties from all over the country, all in one place.

You’ll spot the coyotes for which the colonia is named all over the place.

Colorful skulls on offer at the craft market

We headed upstairs first, but it seemed to be endless stalls of tattoo artists and not many handicrafts. The first floor, though, was more our speed. Wally and are were especially drawn to the colorful Oaxacan alebrijes, traditional folk art depicting fantastical creatures embellished with brilliant patterns and colors. (We have a thing for the surreal.) Each small wooden totem is carved by hand, often using nothing more than a simple pocket knife. We brought home a strange little skeleton, a green and orange insect and a black cactus with a bright pink flower and hummingbird on top of it.

When I purchased an unusual-looking doll made from a bulbous gourd with coarsely braided rope pigtails, two tiny breasts and coconut shell limbs (200 pesos, or $10), Wally replied, “You like things that look old, are a little bit cuckoo and are unlike anything we’ve seen elsewhere.” He knows me so well.

Stalls often sell the same crafts at different prices, so shop around — but don’t expect to bargain for a lower price.

Felipe Carrillo Puerto 25

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BONUS STOP!

Pop into la Iglesia de Coyoacán (aka Parroquia San Juan Bautista) across the square.

The façade looks plain, but the inside is awash in gilded niches, sweeping arches and hand-painted ceiling frescos, with a peaceful cloister around back.

If that hasn’t convinced you, you can hunt down the creepy life-size mannequins of Christ and a dead baby!

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Grab a coffee and snack at Panadería Pública.

Take a Coffee Break

Stop 4: Panadería Pública

If shopping has worn you out, we recommend stopping for a delicious pastry paired with a great cup of coffee at the Panadería Pública for an afternoon pick-me-up. There’s an array of options here, including traditional conchas, campesinos and orejas, as well as French baguettes, croissants and pain au chocolat to name a few. I ordered a café con leche and Wally got his latte con leche light. We also purchased a pastelito de guayaba, a puff pastry similar in size and shape to a turnover, filled with cream cheese and guava paste. Stop to chat with the friendly staff.

Higuerra 22
La Concepción

The marigold yellow façade of La Conchita has seen better days but still has charm.

Goin’ to the Chapel

Stop 5: Plaza de la Conchita

A short stroll southeast is the leafy Plaza de la Conchita in the colonia La Concepción, a quiet sanctuary that feels worlds away from the crowds of tourists visiting La Casa Azul just a few miles away. The small square contains a pale yellow, timeworn and weather-beaten beauty of the 16th century, the Churrigueresque, or Spanish Baroque-style, chapel known as La Conchita. One of the oldest in Mexico, it’s said that the conquistador Hernán Cortés ordered the church to be built on top of a Toltec altar soon after he settled in Coyoacán. The village was used as the base for the conquistadors after they conquered the Aztec Empire.

The church is designed in the Churrigueresque, or Spanish Baroque, style.

Duke sits on the steps around back.

Unfortunately, the chapel was closed, so we couldn’t venture inside, but the building itself is a charming example of colonial architecture.

The fellas love to take jumping shots.

Golden hour made the church walls glow.

Fernández Leal
La Concepción

Teenagers practice salsa moves at the end of a striking, geometrical arbor.

Park It

Stop 6: Frida Kahlo Park

Just steps from the Plaza de la Conchita is Frida Kahlo Park. Here you’ll find a menagerie of topiary animals at the entrance and a fountain with a bronze sculpture of a nude woman with her legs drawn up, also by Ponzanelli. A group of teenagers was practicing salsa routines under an arbor of bougainvilleas.

Like the coyote fountain in Plaza Hidalgo, this woman was sculpted by Ponzanelli.

Wally loves Frida.

Is Diego jealous of Duke’s attention to Frida?

The park is a bit small in scale, but it’s worth stopping by to take a photo with the larger-than-life figures of Frida and Diego and to see the brightly colored mural by Dan Silva aka Polvoe, across the way on Tepalcatitla street.

The mascots of Coyoacán, as depicted by street artist Polvoe

A colorful mural across from Frida Kahlo Park caught our eye.

Fernández Leal and Avenida Pacifico
La Concepción

Coyoacán was easily one of our favorite places we visited in CDMX. You can see why this enchanting and storied part of the city has attracted artists and intellectuals over the years. –Duke