Thays Park

During the second week of December 2006, I visited Thays Park.

It was a summer day, and I decided to go out for a walk, stroll around, and explore Thays Park, which I had never been to before.

I knew from reading the news media that Thays Park was created fairly recently, and that previously, a well-known amusement park called Italpark stood on that location. It was neglected in terms of maintenance and took the life of a young girl around 1900, which led the authorities (belatedly, as is often the case) to close it down, erecting Thays Park in its place. I was aware of the news because back in 1990 I had read about it in the newspaper. "Thays," the name given to the new recreational park, was also familiar to me, as it was named in honor of the architect and landscape designer who created several works in Argentina, one of the most famous being the Botanical Garden.

Nearby, as I was approaching the park, the first thing I found and photographed was the monument honoring Alvear in Recoleta, a work by Antoine Bourdelle. The artist created the piece in France and took 10 years to finish it before shipping it to Argentina. The location where the monument stands is called Julio de Caro Square.

From there, I crossed F. Alcorta Avenue and entered Thays Park. There were many people visible in the park, and initially, the route was to head back through a small square located in front of the Alvear monument.

As the Christmas season approaches, it is common to see metal trees used as decorations in parks and squares. They feature a star at the top and light up at night with the surrounding lights; some have lights, others do not, and others only have the star.

When I was about to cross the avenue, someone was asking me something, but I didn't realize it until the second time she asked. I turned around and saw a female tourist. She was almost impossible to understand, and she asked if she was in Recoleta, to which I replied affirmatively. Then she asked me about the "Círculo de Arquitectos" (Architects' Circle), about architecture, and I had no idea, so I told her I didn't know, which was true. Perhaps she was referring to the Museum of Architecture and Design, located at one end of the park, but I don't know if she meant that museum or another place I am unfamiliar with.

Once inside Thays Park, a few young guys dressed in orange and black crossed my path. I think they were promoting a radio station, and they were taking photos. In the photo, all of them can be seen, and in the foreground, the bust of Carlos Thays, which is a replica of the original by sculptor Alberto Lagos. The original work is located in the Botanical Garden.

The day was very hot, and many people were sunbathing. In one section of the park, water jets burst upward from the ground; after a while, they would stop spraying water, and shortly after, the water jets would return, with some people getting wet in them. Others were playing ball—several groups playing small two- or three-person matches scattered throughout the park. 

Others were reading on the benches.

There are some interesting artworks in the park. One of them is a donation from the Basque community from 1997, created by the artist Néstor Basterretxea and titled El Árbol (The Tree). It is a rather large work, apparently metallic, in a somewhat beige or light brown tone. To protect it from vandal attacks by individuals who misuse spray paint, it is surrounded by a fence—keeping in mind that the entire park is also surrounded by a fence, like many of the city's parks and squares.

Another piece is Torso Masculino (Male Torso) by Colombian artist Fernando Botero. This work dates back to 1994. A defining feature of this artist is that he creates almost all his works by exaggerating their volume; colloquially, his pieces appear inflated. Some critics speak of "Boterismo" to refer to the generality of this author's works due to the unique identity they acquire. To see it for yourself, simply type "boterismo" into the Google search bar, select image search, and they will appear.

The next artwork is a full-body female figure holding the UN flag, featuring the unique characteristic of being fragmented. This work is titled Venus fragmentándose. La Humanidad y las Naciones Unidas (Venus Fragmenting. Humanity and the United Nations), created in 1996 by the sculptor Marta Minujín. This artist is known for fragmenting several of her works; one of these fragmented pieces, called Cabeza fragmentada (Fragmented Head), is located in the National Museum of Fine Arts. She is also the creator of the graphic image for a well-known painkiller, which appropriately features a split—that is, fragmented—face.

I walked all the way to the other end of the park, and before heading back, I photographed an airplane that appeared to be landing at Aeroparque—a photo that turned out very poorly. Finally, I took a picture of one last small statue whose identity I didn't know. Later, searching on the web, I found that it is called Pro Cultura Nacional (For National Culture) and is the work of Italian sculptor Alejo Afani, with no further details available beyond that.