Dark Lights, Bright Colors: Mexico City Among the Shadows

The movie ‘Under the Volcano’ unfurls a fabulous teasing sequence of Day of the Dead. It is that shadowy skeletal dance and thousands of movie scenes later that have influenced my many years as a photographer. I have always imagined that I would “step into liquid”, and live inside episodic scenes from that film and more.

Arriving from the sun drenched shores of Puerto Vallarta to Mexico City was a dance card that portended a walk on the wild side. The ghosts of the dead seemed to awaken for me as I entered the airport corridors. Thousands of people shuffled aimlessly among the shadows. I quickly hopped in a tiny green and white Volkswagen taxi (Volkswagen ceased production of the “VW” in Mexico that week). We sped along the highways and the city streets towards my hotel. The city became a tapestry of images that were illusory dreamscapes.

I was in Mexico to photograph architects and architecture. But I decided that my first night would be a quest to sip the best Sangrita.

Most people think that you need to indulge in Mezcal and Tequila when you visit Mexico. I agree. But a bit of heaven awaits you when you have sipped the perfect Sangrita. Almost any agave tryst can dazzle while you dance. But a Sangrita settles you. Sangrita allows you to inhale the airs of the city. They say a sniper’s accuracy depends on how he breathes. A photographer needs to breathe as well. He needs to allow the imagery to filter in through the lens. A proper Sangrita allows you to exhale.

My search for the best Sangrita would take me to the ends of the city. Lucid sensory perceptions swam through my mind. I communed with the cultural souls of Kahlo,Tamayo, Rivera, Bravo and more. Lurking among the city’s shadows provided a window into the city’s past and present. As some people will say, “you will see what you see”.

My hotel was near numerous consulates in the Polanco district. About 9:00pm I skipped out of the hotel into the adjacent Parque Lincoln. A summer stroll through the park seemed ideal. My gait quickened amid the excitement of music, food and nighttime festivities. Magically all of the faces reminded me of Munch’s ‘The Scream’. Thousands of blurred faces split the park in half as I raced along a small pond into a night not too dissimilar from Olson Welles’ embracing and sinister ‘A Touch of Evil’.

It can be sensational scurrying through any city streets for fun and visual surprises.

I made a list of Mexico City drinking destinations. At attractions along the way, I encountered various levels of fanfare and serious disappointment. Hours later I was exhausted from consumption. I grabbed one more taxi. I told the driver to take me to the best restaurant in the city.

I wound up walking into a very darkly lit entrance of a visibly expensive restaurant. The clientele were affluently dressed. I was a wee bit intoxicated and a bit of a mess.

The maitre d’ quickly grabbed me and suggested that I might be more comfortable in the bar area. I sat alone with just a few barstools to either side. I was still able to see into the restaurant, to see the finery. I asked the bartender for a Don Julio and a Sangrita. He poured both. Both drinks gave me sometime to take in the hours of the night I was able to breathe in the city.

Mexico and Mexico City are home to an incredible number of fabulous architectural designs. Dozens of famous and unique personalities ( Ando, Prix, Ito, Hadid, Lautner, Barrigan, Bilbao, Romero to name a few) have made a mark on the cultural horizon. This trip was for my book; ‘Portraits of the New Architecture’. Mexico City is home to two architects chosen for my book; Enrique Norton and Ricardo Legorretta. The book was to be released soon. I needed to make my camera move a bit faster.

The next day I arrived at Ricardo Legorretta’s studio. Upon greeting me, Ricardo anxiously wanted to hear about my visit to the city. I shared some of my escapades from the night before. He glanced at me with paternal care. “Do you know how dangerous it is for a tourist to travel the streets alone?”. But I sipped the Sangrita! “Americans” Ricardo whispered.

For the next few hours I composed my photographs and we chatted about the architects for my book, and the travels across continents I have made to shoot the architecture. He was most impressed with the varied collection of architectural styles.

He asked me why I had chosen to photograph an older design, “Camino Real Polanco Mexico Hotel” instead of something new. I knew my truthful answer would not have pleased him. The simple truth is, the design spoke to my manner of shooting. I waited for days until the capture I needed to make revealed itself. The camera saw what I saw.

I have always admired Legorretta’s work. His work seemed to be an extension of Luis Barrigan’s. Certainly I never mentioned that to Ricardo. But I did share that the hotel was a fabulous ambition. It was perfectly realized.

A funny thing about photographing thousands of personalities: I never fully reveal what our exchanges have included. Everyone shares a misstep and more. I am a recorder of moments in time. The words between my subject and I fairly remain such. Trust reigns.

Though I do believe that the architecture is a reflection of the architects attitudes and personality. My images of their work hopefully reflects my attitude toward the architect and their work.