The Magic of Luis Barragán

When we think of Mexican architecture, images of coastal resorts or colonial architecture would certainly pop into mind. Places like San Miguel de Allende and Tulum would probably come to mind. But for architects and design enthusiasts alike, no architecture is as exciting as the works of Luis Barragán. Born in 1902, he came from a wealthy Guadalajara family and lived on a family farm. Trained as an engineer, he started designing many private houses after extended travel around Europe and became acquainted with the modernism movement. Among the influential architects he met was Swiss architect Le Corbusier, arguably the most celebrated modernist architect of all time.

For anyone who might know of Le Corbusier’s works, you know they are difficult to love. Finished typically with white stucco and bare metal, Corbusier’s architecture is often cold and soulless. Architecture as a “machine of living” was a common thesis preached by Le Corbusier. While the ruthless obsession with functionality and efficiency reflects the optimistic attitude of the post-war era, it is far from universally beloved by much of the public. It is a sentiment that I could certainly empathize with. In contrast with Corbusier or fellow architect Mies van der Rohe, Barragán approached modern architecture with a poetic lens. While following modernist languages of clean lines and austere spaces, he infused the colors and materials of Mexico and North Africa into his works.

As an architecture student, I definitely “learned” about Barragán and his contribution to Mexican modernism. But sadly, as is often the case, architectural movements outside of "the West” were rarely discussed in depth. I think the professor mentioned Barragán for about a minute, and that was that. I was beyond excited to visit his works in person and learn more about Barragán and his vision for the built environment.

Chapel and Convent of the Capuchinas Sacramentarias

I visited a Barragán project on my first trip to Mexico City ten years ago. Located in Mexico City’s neighborhood of Tlalpan, the Chapel and Convent of the Capuchinas Sacramentarias is probably not his most well-known project. Honestly, I could not recall why I picked this place to visit back then. Not only is the building located far from the city center, but it also has no website or reservation system. From what I remember, there was a very limited visitation hour when the public could knock on their front door to request a guided tour.

Despite his towering reputation, Barragán was very selective in taking on commissions. But given his deep Catholic faith, it should be no surprise that Barragán would design religious buildings. However, what is remarkable was that Capuchin nuns approached him with neither the money for architect fees nor the funds for construction. Surprisingly, Barragán took on the project and helped fund its construction. I could only imagine the disbelief all the nuns must have felt. The end product of this collaboration is a convent unlike any other. Upon entering, we arrived at a spacious courtyard with a flowing fountain. The dark volcanic floor tiles ground created a zen-like serenity that is very fitting for religious contemplation.

Since the nunnery does not permit photography inside, this is pretty much the only photograph I took.

A giant concrete screen painted in Barragán’s trademark bright yellow is on one side of the courtyard. It cast a warm glow in the adjacent hallway. But the real highlight of the complex is the nearby chapel. Painted in warm orange, the space glows as if we were in a woman's womb. The mood of the space reminded me a lot of The Weather Project by Icelandic artist Olafur Eliasson. The ultra-modern gilded altarpiece acted like a sun; it drew your eyes in, but it was also somewhat uncomfortable to keep staring at it. An oversized orange crucifix beside the altar only adds to the otherworldly atmosphere. I could honestly say that this is still the most memorable religious space I have ever visited.

Architecture aside, the visit was a very memorable experience for me. By chance, I was the only visitor that afternoon, so I got a one-on-one tour from a sister. Undeterred by my lack of Spanish comprehension, she pretended that I understood every word she said. Out of politeness, I couldn’t help nodding along. Even though I had a million questions I wanted to ask her, somehow, I couldn’t muster a single word in Spanish. It was quite a comical situation I found myself in.

Casa Gilardi

Our first encounter with Barragán on this most recent trip was at Casa Gilardi. Like most of Barragán’s projects, this house is still privately owned. In the case of Casa Gilardi, the building is still owned and occupied by the same family that commissioned Barragán. Situated in the leafy neighborhood of Condesa, the house stands out due to its hot pink exterior. It was a lot, even by Mexican standards, I must say. The neon-yellow window shutter and chevron-patterned garage door create an unorthodox yet harmonious composition.

As a lived-in family residence, Casa Gilardi is open for guided tours by advanced appointment only. Our 45-minute tour was guided by Eduardo, who grew up in the house and gave us personal insights into growing up in such a unique domestic environment. I could not picture childproofing this house with all the open staircases. The entry foyer of the house was staged with a massive travertine sphere; the whole space could easily be a painting by the Italian artist Giorgio de Chirico. Just like the painting, time seems to stand still. The simple white stucco walls and wood treads led us upward to the main living level of the house.

The main level of the house is comprised of an elevated terrace, a living room, and a bedroom suite. In the middle of the courtyard is a jacaranda tree. The story goes that Barragán was lured out of his retirement when the two advertising executives, Pancho Gilardi, and Martin Luque, asked him to design a studio home for them. Barragán was very impressed by the beautiful jacaranda tree and decided to make this the final project of his long career. While the house functioned as a family home for much of its history, it was designed as somewhat of a bachelor pad for two young professionals. It was not until the passing of Pancho Gilardi that Martin Luque's young family moved in.

Despite being a lived-in residence, much of the original furnishings and fixtures are still in a good state of preservation. The Luque family took pride in preserving as much of the original features from the artworks as possible, including the original carpeting. While the upper level is not open to the public, the architectural essence of the house is readily apparent. Despite being in one of the largest metropolises in the world, we felt a world away. The traffic noise and hassle of urban life seem to dissolve instantly. Inspired by the riads he saw in North Africa, the house turns its back against the street front. Instead, a series of courtyards at various levels create a world of its own.

Like all his other projects, color plays an important in the design of Casa Gilardi. The color inspirations came from the artworks of Jesús Reyes Ferreira. Although the owners promised to give Barragán free rein on all design decisions of the house, the architect was a little apprehensive about clients’ acceptance of the flamingo-pink-colored walls. The stoic spaces were brought to life by bright colors of all sorts. By setting various colors next to one another, different hues are blended together by sunlight. Ask any architect or artist; we could tell you that there are a million shades of white, and the perception of colors varies from minute to minute.

I am absolutely in love with this purple wall. Some people love the pink, but this purple really spoke to me.

The most intriguing space of the house was actually on the ground floor, where much of the entertaining took place. Just beyond the entry foyer is a gallery/hallway completely enveloped in Barragán’s trademark yellow hue. Created by panels of yellow glass inserted in the vertical openings toward the adjacent courtyard, the yellow light holds a special religious meaning for him. The rhythm created by the series of openings is almost hypnotic. There, Eduardo pointed out the textural difference between different surfaces. The combination of color and texture was carefully orchestrated to create maximum effect. A series of gazing globes, a favorite of Barragán, only magnify the celestial atmosphere.

The door at the end of the “yellow” gallery led us to the indoor pool, arguably the most architecturally significant space Barragán ever created. Unusually, the room doubles as the dining room at the owners’ request. The blue walls of the pool contrast greatly with the gallery and radiate a dream-like aura. The juxtaposition between the azure walls and the freestanding crimson column is so unusual that it speaks to Barragán’s lifelong interest in colors. The slit clerestory above the pool also adds to the element of time and season in the space. In my opinion, the sculptural and chromatic composition of the pool warrants careful academic studies.

The reservation request could be made through their official website for anyone interested in visiting Casa Gilardi. However, they do not provide instant confirmation. The cost of the guided tour is $300 pesos per person. However, they charge an additional $800 pesos for a photo permit. Unfortunately, professional DSLR cameras are not allowed. That said, I have no qualms about supporting the family in opening their home to the public.

Luis Barragán House and Studio

None of Barragán’s projects are as architecturally significant as his personal house and studio in Mexico City. Constructed in 1949, the house was Barragán’s personal residence until his passing in 1988. Since then, the house has been under the custody of the state government of Jalisco and Barragán’s Foundation. Ever since its inscription as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2004, Barragán House and Studio has been one of the popular tourist attractions in CDMX. With only six spots available per tour, tickets are difficult to come by for those who did not plan ahead. Indeed, I planned our entire trip itinerary around this reservation.

I suspect that social media (particularly Instagram) has a lot to do with the popularity of Barragán among the younger generation. We saw quite a few “stereotypical” millennials coming through this place during our visit. I don’t know how many are here for an Instagram selfie versus learning about modern architecture. Docents conduct the guided tour here. In our case, our guide was a third-year architecture school student at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM). I was also impressed with his knowledge and poised demeanor.

The iconic foyer of Luis Barragán House and Studio.

The only other visitors were a couple from Chicago. The tour started at the entry foyer. The use of pink walls on the interior certainly brings an “outdoor” quality to the foyer. The dark volcanic treads are reminiscent of the Chapel and Convent of the Capuchinas Sacramentaries. At the top of the staircase is a gold-leaf painting; it reminds us of faith's role in Barragán’s life. With its white stucco wall handrail-free staircase, it is difficult not to compare this foyer to the one at Casa Gilardi. I actually can’t say which one I prefer. However, I am quite disappointed with the cheap door knobs they installed on the closet doors. They look like something you could find in any big box store, and I think they were not the originals.

Just off the front foyer is the formal living room of the residence. The double-height space comprises a seating area, a fireplace, and a newspaper reading stand. The living room is opened to the backyard through a wide expanse of full-height glazing. The architect within me was in heaven. The wall-to-wall window with no visible mullion is a dream for any modern architect. At the same time, we could never specify single-pane glazing like this back home because of energy code compliance. But my biggest surprise was learning that the exposed ceiling rafters here are purely decorative. Although it is understandable, it does betray the principle of modernism, especially given that Barragán was trained as a civil engineer. I need not be so harsh on myself next time I add a decorative beam for one of my projects.

One risk of identifying myself as an architect on this tour was that you are sometimes put on the spot. Just off the living room is a little interstitial study area. On the desk was a little bronze sculpture. The guide pointed to me and said: “You are an architect, and you must know what this is.” I was caught off-guard and had no idea what this item was. In a split second, I was trying to marshal my limited knowledge about Barragán. Besides his Mexican heritage, the most well-known fact about him was being the second-ever laureate of the Pritzker Architecture Prize.

The very rare edition of Henry Moore statue that was awarded to the first eight recipients of the Pritzker Prize.

Known as the “Nobel Prize of Architecture,” it is widely considered the highest international honor for architects worldwide. Thankfully, I could blurt out the word “Pritzker” after a few seconds. But in my defense, only eight of these Henry Moore miniature sculptures were awarded. All winners since 1987 have been awarded a medallion instead of this sculpture.

The tour continued to the adjacent library. The entrance to the library is framed by a moveable partition instead of a fixed wall. The room's main focal point is a set of elegant wood floating staircases. It may seem quite common in contemporary architecture nowadays, but this particular stair was revolutionary and has since earned a towering reputation in the architecture community. Even after seven decades, seeing the original was still inspirational.

The upper level comprises two ensuite bedrooms and two smaller study/lounge spaces. The obvious highlight here is Barragán’s personal bedroom. The austere bedroom has a single bed, a wardrobe, and a drawer chest. A simple crucifix on the wall implies a stoic lifestyle. Except for beautiful window shutters, the architecture of this level is relatively muted. For any art lovers, you may notice works from titans of modern art like Picasso, Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, and Jesús Reyes Ferreira. Of course, points of personal interest in any historical house museum are the bathrooms. The integrated storage solution is quite beautiful.

In the middle of the upper floor is a windowless room with a wooden sculpture of Chris. The room is aptly named “Room of Christ,” it is arguably my favorite space in the house. The staircase at the corner of the room is gently illuminated by a glass door at the top of the staircase concealed behind the wall. The warm, gentle orange glow makes this otherwise windowless space a place of drama and intrigue. This set of stairs led us to the roof deck, another iconic space.

The rooftop terrace is classic “Barragán”. Rather than exposing any building system, such as a water reservoir and mechanical heating system, the perimeter walls extend well above eye level to create a beautiful introspective space. He opted to omit any outlet, hose bib, or light fixture except for a couple of drains and a single access panel. The roof terrace was never furnished or landscaped. Barragán used this space to pace and meditate. For anyone who found “inspiration” from the infamous “pink wall” in Los Angeles, a visit to Casa Barragán should be mandatory.

The back garden is the next stop on our tour, which may seem like a stretch to most of us. Despite its “natural” appearance, the overgrown garden is purposeful and reflects the architect's design intent. It stands in sharp contrast with the barren rooftop. I seriously wonder about the gardeners’ instructions on proper maintenance; the fine line between manicured and wild is delicate. My real interest was the exterior of the living room window. Not only did I admire the window details, but I could also appreciate the ingenious solution of the exterior window curtain.

The tour then proceeded to the “studio” section of the complex. The studio courtyard is enclosed like the roof terrace, albeit at a much smaller scale. A small fountain pool and rows of water jars add the element of water, a favorite of Barragá. The studio space itself was quite simple. A large window at the corner is just high enough to avoid any mental distraction. The bright yellow ceiling rafters, on the other hand, brighten up the space. Even without artificial light, the space feels light and airy. But judging from the sizes of the girders, I suspect they are also decorative here.

Our visit to Luis Barragán House and Studio was a wonderful experience. Our guide was very knowledgeable despite his age. So do I like Luis Barragán House and Studio or Casa Gilardi better? Honestly, I think it depends on what interests you the most. Personally, I find Casa Gilardi to be more architecturally interesting. Personal anecdotes from those who grew up there add historical authenticity. That said, visiting the Home and Studio got us closer to Barragán, the man.

Torres de Satélite

Among all of Barragán's works, one project is larger than life, both figuratively and physically. Although he is best known for domestic architecture, Torres de Satélite was my highlight on this recent trip. Located in the Naucalpan de Juárez District northwest of Mexico City, these massive towers are among the most significant urban sculptures in the world. Conceived as a gateway into the newly created upscale community, the towers are the brainchild of then-president Miguel Aleman and function as a billboard for the new city. Although the project is most often associated with Barragán, it was a collaboration between Jesús Reyes Ferreira and Mathias Goeritz. It is not entirely clear who has the greatest claim to the authorship.

Initially consisting of seven towers, the design evolved considerably due to financial concerns and client input. Among the early iterations of the project are public amenities such as an observation platform, a water fountain, and a carillon. Ultimately, the towers were reduced from seven to five, only a quarter of their original height. Despite the scaled-back ambition, Torres de Satélite is still mightily impressive. What surprised visitors the most was the fact that the original colors of the towers were varying shades of orange. Goeritz’s reasoning for the monochromatic hues was meant to contrast Mexico’s bright blue sky. The dispute about colors drove a wedge between Barragán and Goeritz. Eventually, Barragán was tasked to repaint the towers for the 1968 Olympics. Taking inspiration from works by De Chirico, Balthus, Magritte, Delvaux, and Chucho Reyes., Barragán employed primary colors, much to the displeasure of Goeritz.

It is just post-card perfect. I almost felt like it could translate very well to Los Angeles.

Because Naucalpan de Juárez is quite a distance from the city center, I timed my visit for one morning when Brian was still recovering from altitude sickness. The trip took 40 minutes but only cost me $140 pesos. As we approached the tower, I could barely contain my excitement. Because little was published online about accessing the site, I picked a random spot next to the monument on the map. It turned out that I picked the worst spot and had to walk twenty minutes to reach the proper “entrance” to the towers. In hindsight, it was a blessing in disguise as it forced me to explore the surrounding area more.

Towers viewed from a local street parallel to the expressway.

Laid out as isosceles triangles, the towers play serious visual illusions on you. Depending on your location or the time of day, each tower's perceived height and dynamic change. When I looked at the architectural plan, I was surprised by how deceptively simple the design of these towers is. From a distance, they look stubby and static. As I walked closer, the tower morphed into a thin, triangular blade. They remind me of works by the mind-bending works of Georges Rousse. Barragán's tricks of optical illusion also extend to the height of bricks. As the towers get, the height of each row of bricks becomes higher to exaggerate the perception of height.

The pedestrian bridge across the expressway is one of the best spots to photograph the towers. The contrast between vehicular traffic flow and static monoliths is endlessly fascinating to watch. While many may be dismayed by the uncontrolled proliferation of commercial billboards, I enjoy the juxtaposition of Barragán's artistic vision with the messy reality of urban Mexico. Naucalpan de Juárez may be designed as an upscale residential district; the neighborhood is now filled with mid-scale malls and chains like Krispy Kreme Doughnuts.

For every hundred pictures you could find online, there is less one that was take from the rear.

One of the most surprising things I learned was how the sloping topography plays an important role in the overall design. Just like the brick dimensions, it is just another design trick of the designers. In sharp contrast to the classic view of the towers from the front, the tower appears so lonely and fragile from the rear. It was only much later that I read the design inspiration of the towers, which were the medieval towers of San Gimignano in Tuscany.

For anyone interested in visiting, there is a dedicated parking lot just north of the towers. However, it is important to know that the lot is only accessible through the northbound expressway. Even without a car, I had no trouble accessing the tower base during my visit… as long as you are careful about dodging the traffic on a four-lane expressway.

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Chapel and Convent of the Capuchinas Sacramentarias

Casa Gilardi

Luis Barragán House and Studio

Torres de Satélite

Wadi Hopping in Oman

The Disappointment With San Miguel de Allende