Introduction

[above]: Ozumba, Mexico State, La Purísima Concepción, portería mural, North wall detail of Cortés genuflecting before Martín de Valencia, leader of the twelve apostolic Franciscans in New Spain: (right), Franciscan friars; (left) Mercedarian friar Bartolomé de Olmedo, Spanish conquistadors Pedro de Alvarado and Raphael de Trejo beside three indigenous nobles.
"Mexico, even to one whose feet have trodden the earth of many lands, is an adventure. A spiritual rather than a physical adventure, for although one can readily believe that anything whatever may happen, the things that do happen are rarely very hazardous." (Gessler, Clifford, Pattern of Mexico, D. Appleton-Century Company, Inc., New York & London, 1941, p. 1)
The purpose of this website is to illustrate and describe as many examples as possible of Mexican fine art and architecture dating from the three hundred years (1521-1821) when it was governed by Spain. Although not a colony but rather a Spanish dependency considered a new kingdom and overseen by way of a Viceroy, the adjective "colonial" endures to characterize the epoch and culture of New Spain, inclusive of its art and literature. This is not unlike New England which was governed by Britain as a dominion (from 1686 until the American revolution) but whose period is described as "colonial", and artworks distinguished as such.
While creating a catalogue raisonné of Mexico's inexhaustible colonial (or viceregal) treasures is unrealizable, the goal remains an encyclopedic inventory, readily accessible and cohesively presented. The more I became intrigued by the subject matter the more inspired I grew to share images with friends primarily in North America and Europe, most of whom had never heard of, let alone visited, the many wonders nestled in Mexico's heartland.

When considering this web site’s composition, I ultimately decided to organize it by century (i.e., the 16th, 17th and 18th) rather than by geography. INcluded is architecture of this period produced in California, Arizona, New Mexico and Texas since it dates to when these territories belonged to Spain, subsequently Mexico, and hence prior to their annexation by the United States of America. Although Guatemala, which borders the Southern Mexican states of Chiapas, Tabasco, and Campeche remained part of the newly formed Mexican Empire until the 1824 abdication of Agustín de Iturbide (1783-1824), its colonial architecture is excluded.
In and of themselves centuries do not decisively delimit or determine stylistic movements, but are at best characterized by them. For instance, the first century here considered is the 16th, whose visual gallery I’ve titled Monastic Architecture in the New World despite the fact that the years in which the great monasteries were constructed only really spanned circa 1525-1585. A combination of uncontrollable, European introduced contagions, in which a vast majority of Amerindians perished, and ecumenical restructuring on the part of Viceregal authorities (whereby monastic regulars were replaced by diocesan seculars) brought this prodigious building period to an early close.
Still to this day, massive, fortress-like monasteries, dating from those fifty prolific years nearly half a millennium ago, dot the landscape of central Mexico. Reflective of, yet distinctive from, their European counterparts, their early dates after The Conquest and mere existence on the opposite side of the Atlantic seem unfathomable. They are the spectacular result of the first building campaign of the Old World in the New, and therein represent the vestiges of a remarkable story in human history.

Never before had so few (priests) been charged with the task of proselytizing, baptizing, and indoctrinating so many (indigenous). A result of this unprecedented exigency was that new building forms were devised to accommodate the unique circumstances and accelerate the desired outcome. The most striking of these architectural adjuncts are the open chapel (also referred to in Spanish as a capilla abierta) and the posa chapel or capilla posa, both seemingly original in form and function and hardly seen outside of Mexico.
In the second visual gallery, devoted to the sixteen hundreds and titled Great Cathedrals and the Rise of a Popular Baroque, my effort to periodize is equally inexact for the very reason that the building types initiated in the early 17th century prevail well beyond the proliferation of the style known as estípite Baroque some one hundred and fifty years later. During this broad time period the architecture ranges from what Manuel Toussaint described as ‘sober’, to ‘rich’ to ‘exuberant’, the last two adjectives generally comprising what in Mexico is known as “Popular Baroque”.
As with the previous century, differences in surface ornamentation vary widely, even within the same complex. For example, the 'sober' exterior of the Baroque façade of the church of Santo Domingo in the city of Puebla does not prepare the visitor for the 'exuberant' Capilla del Rosario within. Further distinctions are evident from region to region, from Pueblan and Oaxacan Popular Baroque to that found in the states of Querétaro, Guanajuato and Jalisco. Even though the classification of this popular style (perhaps better thought of as fashion) lies outside of academic canons, it nevertheless persevered in New Spain as an integral artistic expression.
Titled The Eighteenth Century: Repeat or Die, An Artistic Culmination, the third visual gallery is no less flawed with inconsistencies between style and time. The century’s signature feature, the estípite was introduced well into the century (1737) when the Altar de los Reyes was unveiled in Mexico City's cathedral. Conceived by the renowned Spanish architect Jerónimo de Balbás (?-1748), the completion of this high altar was followed twelve years later by the South and East façades of the cathedral’s parish church know as the Sagrario, both masterpieces by Balbás fellow Andalusian, Lorenzo Rodríguez (1704-1774). The realization of these structures initiated and instituted a genre that rapidly disseminated throughout Mexico. Known as the Churrigueresque and dominating the second half of the 18th century, this design approach integrated contemporary Spanish architecture with the natural sensibilities of Mexican craftsmanship, and yielded the most intricate and bedazzling examples of Baroque found anywhere.

The last years of viceregal Mexican architecture prior to the country’s independence from Spain is characterized by a largely uninspired Neoclassicism, ushered in by the Royal Academy of San Carlos, established in Mexico City in 1783. This modest gallery is given the name Spain’s Last Bid, underscoring the fact that just as reformist Spain sought to conform Mexico's civic architecture to its own economic interests, it shortly thereafter lost control of nearly all its New World territories in a domino effect. Some of the buildings illustrated in this section, whether ecclesiastic or secular, in cities or closer to the frontier, date as late as the 1810s when the battle for Mexican independence was well underway. Most original of the Neoclassical architects was Francisco Eduardo Tresguerras (1759-1833), who designed and remodeled a number of important buildings in his native city of Celaya (Guanajuato) and in the surrounding Bajío region. As relatively bland as most Neoclassical Mexican architecture may now appear, contextually it should be viewed and understood as a potent reaction to Baroque aesthetics and ecclesiastic obscurantism.
Reconciling execution dates with building styles is further compromised by duration of construction. Of the original Mexican cathedrals, only Mérida's was completed before 1600, while those of Guadalajara and Puebla spanned more than a single century in their making, not to mention Mexico City's, whose architectural plans were discarded for new ones on a number of occasions. Morelia's graceful cathedral was begun in 1660 and finished in 1744, precisely dividing its construction between the 17th and 18th centuries. In the Yucatán, moreover, quite a number of 16th century open chapels were erected prior to the building of the churches themselves, which in turn date from the 17th century. These capilla abiertas were later converted into church apses, as in those found in the villages of Káua, Ticúm, Zacalaca, Chicxulub Pueblo, Sinanché, and in numerous others.

History has demonstrated that artistic expressions do not evolve simultaneously in different regions. Northern European Renaissance painting clearly postdated that of Italy, Cubism was pioneered by Georges Braque and Raoul Dufy in L’Estaque (France) as early as 1907 but did not officially reach the United States until New York City’s Armory Show of 1913, and the architecture of Mexico’s frontier lagged in both execution date and overall quality with what contemporaneously was achieved in the heartland of New Spain. Therefore, using a European type timeframe in order to properly date structures based on their relative appearance may be futile within the context of viceregal Mexico, where the spontaneity of execution often took precedence over the self-consciousness of style.
Since few secular buildings in Mexico reached the artistic heights of their ecclesiastic peers, my first thought was generate an exclusive section for colonial palaces, haciendas, aqueducts, bridges, etc. However, the issue is complicated by the inseparable nature of the secular and religious. For instance, 16th century Pueblo-Hospitals or guatáperas founded by the Franciscans and Augustinians in the states of Michoacán and Jalisco included a community center and travelers’ hospice. Nevertheless, they were built beside or around a small chapel (called a yurishio in the native Tarascan language of Purépecha) which was dedicated to the veneration of the Virgin Mary, normally in the form of the Immaculate Conception, and managed by an indigenous confradía.

Therefore, the ecclesiastic and secular remain amalgamated, with the hope that opulent examples of the former do not eclipse those of the latter. Gems like the 17th century Governor’s Palace in Aguascalientes, its 16th century counterpart in Tlaxcala, Mérida's distinguished Casa de Montejo (finished in 1549), the Casa fuerte Palace of Cortés in Cuernavaca (begun in 1533), Campeche’s imposing Puerta de Tierra and its defensive forts of San José and San Miguel, the famous port bastion of San Juan de Ulúa at Veracruz, Mexico City’s grandiose Casa Condes de Santiago de Calimaya (renovated, 1777), the delightful Casa del Diezmo in Celaya, or even the small 18th century Casa de los Perros in Querétaro all merit illustration and notation.

Elizabeth Wilder Weismann titled her 1950 publication Mexico in Sculpture: 1521-1821, inferring that a comprehensive artistic view of the country may be gleaned by focusing on its sculptural production. This notion is reflected by Robert Mullen in the name of his 1997 book Architecture and Its Sculpture in Viceregal Mexico, where the insertion of the possessive pronoun its seems to put architecture and sculpture on an equal footing. The notion that architecture of this time and place may be regarded as sculpture is endorsed by Pál Kelemen’s 1951 Baroque and Rococo in Latin America where the author meticulously describes and illustrates such objects as baptismal fonts, pulpits, choir stalls, organs, confessionals, etc., as indispensable components within a larger context. Hence, I have come to loosely consider all elements of eye-catching craft which enrich interiors or exteriors as part of viceregal Mexico's overarching artistic tapestry, worthy of photography and documentation.

Whenever possible, I have added biographic dates (in parentheses) beside the name of an historic figure. Although not fully conformed, my intent is for the names of all saints and religious themes to either be in English or Spanish, depending on which language text is selected. For instance, San Pedro in Spanish whereas St. Peter in English; the Annunciation in English and La Anunciación in Spanish, La Huida de Egipto or the Flight into Egypt, etc. However, the names of cities, towns, churches, chapels, even altarpiece dedications, as well as specific institutions in Mexico or Spain, let alone biographical figures (with the exception of royalty), remain in their original Spanish. Hence: Nuevo León, Santa Isabel Tepetzala, La Enseñanza, Colegio de las Vizcaínas, Capilla del Pocito, Portada de los Arcángeles, Altar de los Reyes, Bartolomé de las Casas, Antonio Guerrero y Torres, however King Ferdinand IV (if the selected text is in English), St. Anthony of Padua, St. Roch, St. Nicholas of Tolentino (if in reference to individual sculptural or painting representations rather than entire church complexes), and so forth. Certain Spanish language terms like capilla abierta remain written in Spanish, even when found in the English text, because of the emblematic significance inherent in their original language, in this case referenced in the Glossary under both language titles. Nonetheless, in my effort to achieve regularity there are bound to be inaccuracies.

Numerous people have assisted me in my efforts, whether with respect to research, travel, language, photography, or other. In particular, two individuals who have devoted large parts of their lives to Colonial Mexico and who have been kindred spirits in supporting my love and enthusiasm for the subject matter are Richard Perry and Judith Hancock Sandoval. Mexico’s Fortress Monasteries, Blue Lakes & Silver Cities: The Colonial Arts and Architecture of West Mexico, Maya Missions and Exploring Colonial Oaxaca are but four of Richard's books on Mexico, not to mention his exceptional yet still unpublished Mexican Stone Crosses: A Pictorial Guide. Unwavering in his dedication, he is as insightful as he is informative, and continues to generously share information with me and others via his blog [ref.].
Mexico came to life for me through the seductive black and white photography of Judith Hancock Sandoval, mostly done in the 1960s and 70s during extensive trips she took based on her own thorough research. Before knowing Judy personally, I had discovered her images via the publications Folk Baroque in Mexico (Kelemen, 1974) and particularly Art and Time in Mexico (Weismann, 1985). However, her images in those books are only the tip of the iceberg of her Mexico photographic work. More recently I’ve spent hours upon hours at the Special Collections Library at Harvard University, whose archives contain 15,550 of her photos including her contact sheets, maps and field notes [ref.], a duplicate set of which is housed at the National Gallery in Washington, D.C. Like Richard, Judy is a wealth of knowledge.

"Nueva España es ininteligible sin la presencia del mundo indio, las costumbres, las estructuras familiares y políticas, las formas económicas, las artesanías, las leyendas, los mitos y las creencias." (Paz, Octavio. Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz o Las Trampas de la Fe, Fondo Cultura Económica, México, 2003, p. 26)
"New Spain is incomprehensible without the presence of the indigenous world, its customs, familiar structures and politics, economic system, crafts, legends, myths and beliefs" (personal translation)
There have been and will continue to be plenty of obstacles to documenting colonial Mexico. Terrible weather conditions, impassable roads, inadmissible structures, the sheer remoteness and inaccessibility of certain places, are just some of the challenges to be faced. More dispiriting is the irreversible damage wrought on Mexico's art and architecture by natural disasters such as fires, floods, volcanic eruptions, and particularly earthquakes, perhaps none ever more calamitous than the one of September 19, 2017, whose epicenter was at Axochiapan, Morelos. It was as if a nuclear bomb had been dropped had been dropped on colonial Mexico.
Then there is the pitiless passing of time itself, particularly evident in rural Mexico where countless constructions lie abandoned, quietly disintegrating into their surrounding settings. Rather than wholesale sorrow, however, to the unexpected visitor their dilapidation may evoke a meditative melancholia, a contemplative calmness, an impartial invitation to meander, even gambol about the ruins. Prehispanic or post Conquest, these sites are portals to the ages, picturesque in their disintegration and gradual geological assimilation, additive rather than detractive to a land of spectacular natural scenery.

The destruction of colonial treasures seems to have taken place most conspicuously during two periods: firstly during Neoclassicism's aesthetic retaliation against the Baroque in the years immediately preceding and postdating 1800, and secondly in independent Mexico as the result of the implementation of the so-called secular Reform Laws (1855-63). During this time countless Baroque altarpieces were dismantled, cut to pieces and burned as “leña dorada” (gilded firewood). In the legal mind of Mexico’s admirably progressive president, Benito Juárez (1806-1872), the young Mexican Republic represented the successor to the Spanish Crown. Since Spain had always held possessions administered by the Church in trust, Juárez extrapolated that all such Mexican wealth was therefore and forthwith the property of the nation and could consequently be expropriated for more immediate use.
“Confiscations were carried out wherever the liberals held control – or raided, in the middle of a civil war. The damage and destruction of true national treasures has never accurately been calculated, but it was enormous. Most of the Colonial art treasures, which like the ancient Amerindian were religious in nature, were burned, melted down, scattered or indiscriminately destroyed.” (Fehrenbach, T.R. Fire and Blood: A History of Mexico, Da Capo Press, 1995, p. 421)

If not recognized for its artistic merit, nowadays colonial architecture serves as a physical backdrop for daily life. In grasping for a collective identity, Mexico looked to its pre-Colombian cultures, customs, and art, as well as to its home-grown twentieth century Modernism. Long considered the creation of an illegitimate interregnum within the entirety of Mexican history, little more than a lengthy diversion from what intrinsically was and what presently is Mexican, a cultural ruling on the art and architecture realized during the precisely three hundred years of Spanish rule does not yet seem to have been made.
In fact, my efforts in eventually making this site also readable in Spanish is largely motivated by the realization that, as a totality, viceregal Mexico has long-since been relegated to a mere footnote within the country’s illustrious past. Not taught in schools except those of specific higher education, the topic is overlooked both as an obvious endorsement of the country’s rich heritage let alone as the most obvious context of contemporary society. Buried under those rich Baroque surfaces might well be the sacred, sought after “mirror” to self-awareness, as so poetically presented by Carlos Fuentes in his The Buried Mirror, still waiting to be unearthed by modern Mexicans.
In closing, I sincerely hope this website furnishes an effective representation of the buildings and artifacts illustrated and catalogued, the great variety of their styles, high quality of their craft, and sheer volume of their production. If you are new to this period of Mexico's history and architecture, I also hope the site will serve as an enticement to go see these places firsthand and appreciate the artistic treasure trove which remains. In my attempt to capture and represent it, I have yielded to the temptation to add rather than subtract -- perhaps in itself a fitting testimony to the legacy of New Spain in the Americas.




