October 2006. Yesterday, Sunday, October 29th, I set out with the
idea of visiting the entire Puerto Madero and Retiro area, which
I was unfamiliar with. The day was cloudy with a light drizzle that later
turned into a fine mist. I looked at the map and the potential places to visit
that I had seen on a City Government website, and I checked the opening hours
and days of the museums that interested me based on my planned itinerary, which
were three.
The idea was to go to the Reserva Ecológica and then walk along the
docks, visiting the Fragata Sarmiento, the Corbeta Uruguay, and
reaching the Museo de los Inmigrantes.
I left on the 152 bus, planning to get off at Dique 4 and start
walking from there; well… everything turned out completely opposite to what was
planned.
I had gotten up early, it was raining, and the overcast, humid, rainy day
had weighed on me, making it seem like it was going to be a boring Sunday.
Nevertheless, I was determined to go out. According to what I had researched
about the museum hours, two of them opened at 9:00 AM and the other at 11:00
AM, and since I had been up since 6:00 AM, I didn't feel like waiting until
after midday.
When I saw that the rain was slackening, I felt even more motivated to
leave, so I did. Contrary to what I thought for an early Sunday morning, the
bus was full of people, and more and more kept getting on. But it made sense: it
is the only route that covers that path.
As I was approaching my destination, I felt like continuing a few blocks
further—what did it matter? Either way, I planned to go from one end of Puerto
Madero to the other; if I looked out from the bus, I would later make the
same trip back on foot.
There came a moment when I decided to get off. I realized I was right at one
end of Dique 2, right between Dique 2 and Dique 1. I got off the
bus and started walking. I walked without using the umbrella, although I had it
in my backpack; I hadn't made up my mind to use it yet, but the rain was
getting worse. I was starting to feel it as more than an annoyance—I was
getting wet—and yet I kept walking. I continued walking, and suddenly I heard
something: a crackling sound that my mind immediately linked to a
short-circuiting cable. Since it was raining, that non-stop sound was starting
to scare me, but I couldn't quite place where it was coming from, and it was
getting progressively louder. Finally, I managed to locate the crackling: on
the corner across from me stood the CGT building, which features a
portrait of Evita and an intermittent flame beside it; the rain falling
on the flame produced that sound. There was no one on the street, except for a
bus stop with 4 or 5 people waiting in front of the Facultad de Ingeniería.
I had barely walked three blocks, though it felt like a few more.
Well, I continued my journey, crossed the avenue, and there was practically
no one around: very little traffic and a Prefectura (Coast Guard) car parked
right across the street. I mention it because it's the first time I've seen so
much public security in such a small space. I crossed the tracks, which look
harmless, but you have to be careful when crossing because an active train
usually passes through there without a single bridge-style crossing.
The first thing I encountered when crossing the dock was a little blue
bird on the edge of the dock, alone in the increasingly heavy rain. I took
a couple of photos of it; it was hard to get close without it flying away,
until it finally fluttered its wings and moved away.
Then I continued until I reached the old pier built in 1918, located
on Av. Dr. Tristán Achával Rodríguez. There I reached the Fuente de las
Nereidas, which is protected by a glass (or perhaps acrylic) wall. This
work is made of Carrara marble, and its creator was the Argentine sculptor Dolores
Mora de Hernández, which is why it is also called the Lola Mora fountain.
At its base, it features a body of water reflecting the entire motif. It
represents the Nereids assisting the birth of the goddess Venus. In
Greek mythology, the Nereids were sea nymphs who emerged to the surface to help
sailors—it is no coincidence that it is located in what was once the city's
port area. In 1997, the PEN declared it a National Historic Landmark.
I continued walking along the pier, along a paved walkway lined with many
benches and old, leafy trees on its sides, until reaching the monument to the Plus
Ultra feat. It is a winged figure created by Spanish sculptor José Lorda
in 1926. The monument commemorates an aviation feat achieved in 1926 when Palos
de la Frontera and Buenos Aires were connected by a seaplane that landed
upon arrival. Years later, the aircraft was donated by Spain to Argentina and
is currently on display at the "Enrique Udaondo" Provincial Museum
Complex in the city of Luján. In Spain, there is a monument with
similar characteristics in Galicia, in the city of Ferrol, in the
gardens of Los Cantones or Alameda de Suances. In homage to this achievement of
the Plus Ultra, singer Carlos Gardel recorded a tango titled “La
gloria del águila”. Unfortunately, the monument was attacked by
irresponsible graffiti vandals who defaced it completely. A shame.
Continuing my way through stairs, greenery, and sidewalks, the rain became
increasingly intense, and I was glad to be doing this tour on this particular
day. By then I had opened the umbrella; the water was falling harder and
harder. You could see that all the usual weekend afternoon preparations had
already been made by the local shopkeepers and street vendors. One adventurous
vendor had already set up his stand with items for sale, others had their choripán
stalls ready with the fire lit, but many others were starting to put away their
chairs because of the rain. Some were running—those getting into their cars and
leaving—a few neighbors were walking their dogs, and the Prefectura officers
were everywhere. In this area, it’s not a ratio of one police officer per
corner; the ratio is around two officers with a patrol car per corner, and
that’s no joke. Several trucks passed by—I imagine they were transporting the
stands, sale goods, and food stall supplies. A few taxis also crossed by.
From there, I walked along the edge of the docks, looking at the old port
cranes, now disused, which aggiornan (modernize/decorate) the site,
recreating that port past in the imagination. In the past, these cranes were
used for loading and unloading ships back in the late 19th century; they could
rotate 360 degrees and moved on rails, some of which are still there today.
They were imported from Genoa, Italy. I don't know if there is a connection,
but it's worth remembering the large amount of Italian immigration that arrived
in Argentina and, within that group, the significant number of Genoese people.
Old port cranes.
The water in the docks was calm, there was no wind, people were jogging
past, and there were a few tourists.
I continued walking and arrived at the Fragata Sarmiento, which I
planned to visit, but on that day, due to the rain, it hadn't opened its doors
to visitors. The ship ARA Fragata Presidente Sarmiento is a Museum
Ship. Previously, when I was much younger, I had visited it with my family.
This time, I wasn't able to visit again, postponing it for another time. I am
leaving two links regarding this ship: http://www.ara.mil.ar/pag.asp?idItem=112
and http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/ARA_Presidente_Sarmiento
Further along, I arrived at the Puente de la Mujer, a very
eye-catching bridge designed by Spanish architect Santiago Calatrava. It
is a pedestrian bridge connecting the east and west sides of Dique 3 in Puerto
Madero. As I read online, standing 39 meters high, its mast represents the
man, holding up the woman via cables, who is represented in the bridge's
central curve. It features a rotating hanging section suspended by 600
meters of cable and two fixed access sections to the central area.
This work was envisioned by businessman Alberto González, who was a member
of the Madero Group and donated the money for its construction. González
commissioned Spanish architect and engineer Santiago Calatrava Valls to design
it. The design is a synthesis of the image of a couple dancing tango. It
was inaugurated on December 20, 2001.
http://historiadebuenosaires.arquitecturaliquida.com.ar/2008/11/puente-de-la-mujer.html
In 2008, the Buenos Aires Puente de la Mujer was honored in
Amsterdam, winning the Prix d´Excellence 2008.
http://www.lanacion.com.ar/1025065-distinguieron-en-amsterdam-al-porteno-puente-de-la-mujer
At this point in the walk, I was wondering: where could the Corbeta
Uruguay be? Was it the hull of that ship that was floating and partially
sunken? Clearly it wasn't, but I had seen what appeared to be the hull of an
overturned, sunken ship; a metallic object barely emerged from the water, and
there it was—though I don't know exactly what it was. What was certain was that
it had stopped raining, and suddenly the sun came out. What to do now? Should I
continue or head back to the Reserva Ecológica as I had originally planned? I
decided to continue on my path as I had started. I crossed to the other side of
the dock right there, across the Puente de la Mujer, and put away my umbrella.
On that side, you can see a long row of sailboats displaying a succession
of masts, lending a different aesthetic to the place. And on solid ground
stands the Hilton Hotel with its Convention Center; right in front of it, on
the corner of Olga Cossettini and Manuela Sáenz streets, a sculpture titled “El
sueño de la esfera” (The Dream of the Sphere) is permanently installed.
Created by artist Eduardo Pla and inaugurated in 2002, it is the city's
first light sculpture and consists of a luminous, metallic globe covered in
light blue and white neon lights.
http://www.zonapuertomadero.com/index2.cfm?ProductID=1464&do=Detail&storeid=5
I reached the end of Dique 3 and crossed back to the other side, where I had
been walking from the start. Once at Dique 4, the Corbeta Uruguay
was visible. The ARA Corbeta Uruguay is another Museum Ship, one
of the oldest vessels still afloat, with a rich history. It has been a National
Historic Landmark since 1967.
Two links to learn more about this ship: http://www.ara.mil.ar/pag.asp?idItem=113
and http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/ARA_Uruguay
A somewhat confused tourist asked me if it was the Fragata Sarmiento,
so I gave him the correct information and pointed out its location at the other
dock. And the walk continued on its course.
Many buildings, mostly office spaces for sure, and they are still building
quite a few more. That was how I reached the end of Dique 4, constantly
taking photos, though a bit fearful at first because of the rain—afraid of
damaging my camera, which is cheap and basic, but manages well with the photos
it takes.
At the end of Dique 4 stands the impressive Telecom building,
a completely glass rectangular wall. On the other side of the dock, back in 2006,
there was a picturesque building with unaligned white wings. At one point, as a
dining complex, it was called Divino Buenos Aires, then converted into a
nightclub called Opera Bay, and finally ceased to exist—around 2007, it
was demolished.
Traffic sign, indicator sign, and lifebuoy.
At the end of Dique 4, I took a photo of a nest of horneros (rufous
hornero, the Argentine national bird) located on the Telecom building, and then
crossed the bridge leading to the Yacht Club Argentino. I wasn't encouraged
to continue; from there, I didn't see anything that interested me. I took a
photo of a small, colorful boat and turned back. Some train tracks pass through
there, there was quite a bit of traffic, and the bridge was in so-so condition.
I walked all around the back of Dársena Norte, taking photographs of
more buildings—some cast shadows onto others—and continued until reaching the
former Hotel de los Inmigrantes, which I intended to visit. They were
refurbishing the streets and tracks; I asked some Prefectura officers there,
and they gave me directions. The hotel was only 100 meters away, but I didn't
see any sign indicating the museum. I reached the end and could see some Navy
vessels, so I headed back, leaving the possibility of returning another time with
better weather.
Before continuing, I took a photograph of the Monument to Saint Frances
Xavier Cabrini, patron saint of immigrants, located in a square of the same
name on Avenida Antártida Argentina.
And then a photograph of the Virgen de Bonaria, in Plaza Cerdeña, in
front of the Dirección Nacional de Migraciones (National Directorate of
Migration). This image was donated by the Federación Sarda Argentina
half a century ago.
Our Lady of Bonaria (Nuestra Señora del Buen Aire, Nuestra Señora
del Buen Ayre, Virgen del Buenaire, or Virgen del Bonaire) is
one of the Marian titles of the Blessed Virgin Mary. She was considered by
Spanish navigators to be the patron saint of seafarers, and her name gave rise
to the name of the city of Buenos Aires. In her honor, the feast day of Our
Lady of Bonaria was established for March 25th.
http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nuestra_Se%C3%B1ora_del_Buen_Aire
On my way back, I crossed through the plazas in front of Retiro Station. One
of these plazas is Plaza Canadá. The most interesting point in the plaza
is the totem pole: the Kwakiutl Canadian Totem Pole. The photograph
shows the original totem pole from 1961. It was crafted in six months by a team
of Indigenous carvers from the Kwakiutl tribe of Vancouver Island, working on
behalf of the Provincial Museum of British Columbia in Canada. Its height is
twenty meters, plus 1.50 meters for the base that goes into the ground. It
weighs four tons. Its diameter is one meter at the base and tapers down to
sixty centimeters at the top. All figures were carved and polychromed out of a
single piece of red cedar, alternating three base colors: red, white, and
black. The cylindrical shape of the tree trunk from which it originates was
respected, conditioning the material to the resulting shape. The seven main
figures forming the carving, which identify the Geeksem clan, are, in
descending order: the eagle, the sea lion, the sea otter, the whale; followed
by the beaver, the hok-hok (a cannibal bird), and a human face
representing the chief.
http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Plaza_Canad%C3%A1
The original totem pole was sawed down in 2008 due to deterioration caused
by lack of maintenance. In 2012, the City Government acquired a new totem pole.
Also visible in the photograph are the brick dust paths of the plaza;
these have now been replaced by concrete tiles.
Then I crossed over to the Torre Monumental (formerly known as Torre
de los Ingleses), a monument built by British residents to commemorate the
May Revolution.
http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Torre_Monumental
The height of the tower is 75.50 meters, and it has eight floors. At 35
meters, it features a working clock.
I crossed the avenue and passed by the Monument to the Fallen in the
Malvinas War. It is a cenotaph located in Plaza General San Martín,
erected in honor of those who fell in the Falklands/Malvinas War. It
consists of 25 black marble plaques inscribed with the names of the 649
combatants who fell during the 1982 war. An honor guard from one of the three
armed forces branches always guards the monument. The guard relief takes place
throughout the day every two hours until 6:00 PM, when the flag is lowered. The
Guard is composed of members of the Army, Navy, and Air Force, dressed in their
respective historic uniforms.
http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monumento_a_los_ca%C3%ADdos_en_Malvinas
Crossing the street, and before starting to walk up toward the upper part of
Plaza San Martín, I observed and photographed the monument to Leandro N.
Alem in a small square on the corner of Av. del Libertador and Maipú. The
monument was created by Argentine sculptor Pedro Zonza Briano, who built
it on a rocky base that highlights the bronze figure of Alem, portrayed
with his left arm extended, turning his torso, and his other arm extended
backward. Two sculptural groups complement it: one represents the Homeland,
featuring a woman with her two children; the other symbolizes Radical Youth,
represented by a male nude. It was inaugurated on October 10, 1925.
http://wikimapia.org/15883345/es/Monumento-a-Leandro-Nic%C3%A9foro-Alem
Having reached the upper section of Plaza San Martín, I first came
across the Fountain Monument to the Mounted Grenadiers Corps, created by
Enrique Savio. It is a tribute to the location where the first artillery
barracks stood. Made of a triangular block of reinforced concrete, each face
displays a relief: one showing the original barracks and the current one in the
Palermo neighborhood; another showing the coats of arms of the Mounted
Grenadiers Regiment squadrons; and the last depicting the Crossing of the
Andes.
http://www.elbarrioderetiro.com.ar/monumentos.html
Monument to General San Martín and the Armies of Independence.
Located in the square of the same name, it was created by French sculptor
Louis Daumas and inaugurated in 1862. It was the first equestrian monument in
Buenos Aires.
For the centennial of the May Revolution, it was decided to embellish it:
German sculptor Gustav Eberlein was tasked with creating the Swedish granite
base, while the sculptures, plaques, and emblems were cast in bronze.
Four very significant sculptural groups stand out at its corners: The
Departure, The Battle, The Glory, and The Return.
On the front, in the middle portion of the base, sits the sculpture of Mars,
God of War; surrounding the sides of the pedestal are bas-reliefs recreating
the battles for the independence of Argentina, Chile, and Peru.
http://www.elbarrioderetiro.com.ar/monumentos.html
The last monument I photographed there in Plaza San Martín, in Retiro,
was the one titled La Duda (The Doubt). Crafted in white Carrara
marble by French sculptor Cordier, it depicts a young believer sitting
beside his open Bible, while an old man beside him seems to question him. It
consists of two figures: a young man sitting thoughtfully, and an old man
kneeling—symbolizing experience and tenderly clarifying the young man's doubts.
They symbolize the Old and New Testaments. In this regard, I found an interesting
article published in the newspaper Clarín titled “'La duda', a gem in
Retiro,” which is worth reading at this link: http://www.clarin.com/ciudades/duda-joyita-Retiro_0_674932635.html
and also http://es.wikipedia.org/wiki/La_duda_(escultura
Surrounding the Monument to General San Martín, there were many
hearts—a sort of art exhibition. Later, I found out it was an exhibit
called “Corazones Vivos” (Living Hearts). The showcase gathered 200
works that were auctioned the following year, with the proceeds donated to
the Favaloro Foundation. Favaloro was a great Argentine doctor who
unfortunately committed suicide during an incompetent government; it is a
source of pride as an Argentine to have had a Favaloro, and a disgrace to have
had that president at the time.
Finally, having concluded my tour—which began on a cloudy and rainy day and
ended with clear, mild skies—I boarded the 152 bus that brought me back, and by
four in the afternoon, I was already back from my little outing.
It goes without saying that in the area, there are many more monuments to
discover, several more museums than the ones mentioned, and quite a few other
plazas and small squares—in short, many more attractive places to explore and
enjoy.
