Uruapan Part 4 - The art scene

Guaranteed to scare. The center of Uruapan's art scene is the Fabrica San Pedro, also known as the Fabrica de Hilados y Tejidos. Carole and I visited this old textile factory, long since converted into a center for folk arts and crafts. The Fabrica is located about six blocks southwest of the zocalo (main plaza). Among the crafts the Fabrica is seeking to keep alive is the art of mask making. Masks have a history in Mexico that long pre-dates the Spanish. I found the one above particularly interesting not only because of its size (about 4 feet by 3 feet) but because of the human face depicted inside the jaws of the creature's face.

New use for old wheels. The Fabrica was built in 1886 and at its peak produced 40,000 blankets. Most of the old machinery has been dismantled and some of the pieces have been used in various works of art. Others, such as flywheels shown above, have been welded together to form walls and barriers which create smaller work and display areas within the cavernous spaces of the factory floor.

A work of art in itself. Like a good deal of 19th Century machinery, this piece shows an elegance in design that apparently led someone to display it in the gallery area. In the 1980s, American expatriates Walter and Bundy Illsley bought the mill and began using it to create traditional textiles for export all over the world. They also set aside areas for artists and crafts people to work and display their products. The Fabrica provides one of the major facilites for the annual folk art festival held during Santa Semana (Easter week), when thousands of indigenous folk artists converge for one of the premier folk art displays in Mexico.

Loops of yarn dry in the sun. The Fabrica still uses some of its old machines to produce yarn for weaving. I discovered these loops drying in the sun in the rustic backyard area of the factory. I was attracted to the long looping rows and the shadows they cast on the ground below.

Doing it the old-fashioned way. This ancient wooden loom still produces beautiful work. There are almost no metal parts used in its construction. The various parts of its wooden machinery are connected together with twine. The power to drive the loom comes from human hands and feet pushing on its various wooden levers. I have seen similar looms operating in the shops of Ajijic weavers.

Another ancient craft. The Purepecha indians of Michoacan were renowned throughout Mexico for their woodworking long before the arrival of the Spanish. The abundance of wood in the heavily forested mountains helped the development of the craft. After the bloody chaos of the early phase of the Conquest, Bishop Quiroga encouraged different villages to specialize in various crafts in order to rebuild the local indian economy. He is still viewed with reverence throughout Michoacan. While his views were based on Sir Thomas More's book, Utopia, the specialization he introduced has lasted for 500 years, so it could fairly be said they have stood the test of time.

Kinetic art. I found this large stone and metal bird on the main floor of the Fabrica. The fulcrum is the large stone which provides the body of the bird. The bird is delicately balanced so that a touch to its beak or tail will set it bobbing up and down. A similar, but much larger, bird graces the patio in front of the Centro Cultural in Ajijic. It never fails to delight passing children. I suspect the artist may be the same person.

Fine leatherwork was introduced by the Spanish who brought in cattle. This fine Mexican-style saddle is an example of the pairing of beauty and utility. The broad flat wooden pommel (upright post) on the front of the saddle marks it as Mexican.

Purepecha Venus. This exquisitely carved wooden statue was one of two I found in the lobby of the Hotel Victoria near the zocalo. The goddess figure holds a rooster, snarling somewhat oddly with bared fangs.

A pair of Catrina dolls, all dressed up for a day on the town. Catrinas are part of the humorous view Mexicans take of death. The Catrina on the left holds a bouquet of marigolds, another symbol of death. Both of them wear the ubiquitous robozo so beloved by Mexican women. I found these dolls in the lobby of the Hotel Plaza, which forms the west end of the zocalo. The two photos which follow were also in the Plaza lobby.

Ceramics form another part of the wonderful folk art of Michoacan. The platter above, called a "batea", is beautifully laquered. The two objects below the platter are ceramic pineapples, a speciality of the village of San Jose de Gracia outside Uruapan.

Copper and wood, two of Michoacan's original crafts. While my eye was originally drawn to the graceful copper vase, when I looked again, I was delighted by the wonderful carved wood panels which frame the vase. Santa Clara de Cobre, a village northeast of Uruapan is a center of copper work in the area.

Hotel Mi Solar, one of Uruapans oldest hotels. I can't finish my series on Uruapan without a few comments about the Mi Solar. Built in the 1800's as a manor house, Mi Solar has been converted into a Bed and Breakfast hotel. In recent years, the owners refurbished the hotel and filled it throughout with lovely examples of Michoacan woodwork, including some in our room. The dining room, where the meals were tasty and filling, also had several large, finely carved pieces of wooden furniture including the bar.

A cool courtyard, one of two in Mi Solar. The architect who refurbished the Mi Solar had a fine eye for detail and design. The hotel sits on a side street only a couple of blocks from the zocalo and the other attractions of El Centro. Mi Solar provides secure, off-street parking, one of our requirements when we go adventuring in these old colonial cities with their narrow cobblestone streets.

This completes my posting on Uruapan's art scene, and my 4-part series on Uruapan and its surrounding attractions. I hope you enjoyed them all. Anyone considering a visit to Michoacan should certainly include a stop in Uruapan, one of Mexico's too-often overlooked gems.

Hasta luego! Jim

Uruapan Part 3 - Paracutin volcano and the town it smothered

Paricutin volcano. Paricutin is the only volcano on earth whose birth was witnessed by people still living today. No visit to Uruapan is complete without a visit to Paricutin and the remains of San Juan Parangaricutiro, the village smothered by Paricutin's lava. The picture above was taken from a small lava-dust plateau at the base of the cinder cone.

The town of Angahuan overlooks the volcano. Angahuan lies about 24 miles (49 kilometers) north of Uruapan, off highway 37, the road on which we had traveled to Uruapan originally. The beautiful mountain drive was over excellent 2-lane blacktop roads. The town, inhabited by 35,000 Purepecha indians, is a mixture of ancient and modern. Above, Carole walks past an old wood and stone home, in a style called troje. The home was empty when we came by at mid-day. When we returned from the volcano in the evening, the structure was filled to capacity with rows of chanting Purepecha women sitting on benches and dressed in their vividly colorful finest with their heads covered by luminous blue rebozos. It was obviously a religious gathering of some sort, but whether Catholic or the old religion was hard to say. Not wanting to intrude, I refrained from taking a photo although I was sorely tempted. Just beyond the house can be seen another, this time of brick, no doubt built with money sent back by one of the many Purepechans who work north of the border.

Lolita. I couldn't resist the juxtaposition of the name on the car, representing a highly decadent western culture, with the traditional Purepecha woman, gravely trudging on her daily errands. Notice the beautiful maroon, lace-lined velvet skirt and the deep-green, hand-woven rebozo. Angahuan, founded by former slaves of the Spanish, still follows traditional courting customs. The young women are allowed to pick their spouses, but before the marriage the men "kidnap" their brides. They then reconcile with the bride's family and are forgiven as part of the ceremony. The marriage fiesta lasts a whole week.

Hard at work, wearing her finest. No matter what the activity, the Purepecha women we saw always wore beautiful clothing. This woman had just finished sweeping the street in front of her adobe home. She carries her baby in the traditional fashion, strapped to her back with her rebozo. A rebozo has got to be one of the most versatile pieces of clothing ever invented.

Martin, witness to a cataclysm. We strolled down the streets of Angahuan, uncertain of how close we might actually get to the volcano because it lies some distance down the mountainside. Everywhere we went, we were approached by men on horseback who sought to rent us horses and guides for the journey. Martin, shown above, told that he was 81 years old and had been 15 when Paricutin erupted. He was a genial old caballero (horseman), and he gracefully accepted our polite refusal of his offer with a smile and a wave. Later, I wished we had accepted. What stories he could have told us on our long journey to the cinder cone and back!

The village that was. The steeple of the church of San Juan Parangaricutiro peeps above a vast expanse of congealed lava in the center of the photo above. The dark horizonal body of land crossing just above the church is an even bigger lava flow, and behind that can be seen the ancient cinder cone of a dead volcano. Angahuan sits on a plateau above a vast valley transformed again and again by volcanic activity. The reason trojes have traditionally been favored over adobe can be seen in the pine forests that blanket the region.

Setting out on more of a ride than we expected. Carole, on her horse Canela (Cinnamon), rides beside Ernesto, our 16-year-old guide. Carole is not particularly enamored of horseback riding, to say the least. To my astonishment, she suggested we rent some mounts for the journey. When we questioned horses' owner, he told us--we thought--that the ride would be about 2 hours. It could be our poor Spanish was to blame. Or perhaps his, since Purepecha was his native tongue. Or perhaps for Purepechans, excellent horsemen all, two hours would be a snap on a journey like this. Or maybe he just fudged a little, as salespeople will, in order to make the deal. In the event, the round trip trek took us 7 hours in the saddle. Mexican saddles are made of wood, and are not overly generous with the padding. It was a long 7 hours.

A sea of volcanic sand. When we reached the bottom of the plateau, a sea of volcanic sand stretched out in all directions. In some places, the sand was gradually being covered by small pine trees. Upon close inspection, the ones above appear to have been planted rather than naturally seeded, man giving nature a helping hand as it were. In the distance, the mountains of Michoacan rise up. Many of those are of volcanic origin too. Paricutin erupted February 20, 1943, in the cornfield of Dionisio Pulido, who was plowing at the time. There was no pre-existing cinder cone. The ground simply began to split and smoke and rumble, terrifying Pulido and the other campesinos nearby who immediately rushed off to warn their neighbors. They had witnessed something no human being alive today had ever seen, the birth of an entirely new volcano.

Approaching Paricutin. Carole and Ernesto ride up the dusty trail toward the base of the Paricutin cinder cone. What made the ride so long was our need to trek completely around the long tongue of lava extending across the valley. There was no question of riding through it, since the lava is very sharp and would certainly have injured the horses. Above, we have completed that circuit and are approaching our goal. The volcanic sand was very dusty and the horses sometimes tried to edge ahead of each other to avoid having to breathe it, making for some nervous moments on narrow trails. Ernesto informed me that my mount was named "Crazy Horse" (spoken in English). He was a pretty good horse, although he had a tendency to stop and sample the vegetation along the way. When I pulled on the reins to dissuade him, he would mumble under his breath for some distance, no doubt cursing the #@%*#!! Gringo on his back.

The climb to the summit. When we got off our horses at the base of the volcano, Carole and I were so saddle-sore and stiff that we never gave a thought to climbing to the summit. We were very aware that we still needed to retrace our path, and the length of the journey was apparent at this point. Discretion is the better part of valor. As you can see above, the trail winds steeply around the cinder cone like a corkscrew. Since the entire surface of the cone is made of the same fine dust we had been riding over, it would have been a difficult climb, two steps forward, one back. In fact, most of the climbers appeared to have arrived on the back of pickup trucks which carried them quickly over the road we had taken so long to travel and right to the base of the cone. No one had mentioned pickup trucks in Angahuan.

The summit of Paricutin. Within a year of its 1943 eruption, the summit reached over 1100 feet (336 meters). By the time it stopped erupting in 1952, it had added another 88 feet to reach its present height of 1391 feet (424 meters) from base to summit. The hikers seen above have enjoyed the view and are now taking the quick way down by way of the cinder chute which runs in a straight line from the mouth of the cone to the base.

Something like ice skating. The form of transport these folks are using is called glissading. The motion is similar to that of ice skating, as one glides smoothly down the slope first on one foot and then the other. It's actually a lot of fun, certainly more fun than climbing up through the same loose sand. While a small amount of vegetation has taken root on the slopes, there is surprisingly little after 66 years.

Glissading. This hiker has almost reached the bottom. You can see his gliding motion in the picture as he raises plumes of dust. It only took a few minutes to cover a distance he toiled up over a considerable time.

The long trail back. As we headed down from the cinder cone, the valley stretched out before us to the rugged mountains in the distance. The black hump in the upper right is the tongue of lava we will have to ride around to retrace our steps. The day was crystal clear and gorgeous, and we marveled at the sweeping beauty of the country.

Dust devil. The day was windy, helping the visibility, but greatly complicating my photography. I had no drawstring on my broad-brimmed hat. The hat was essential because of the glaring sun, but it constantly threatened to blow off and once had to be retrieved by Ernesto, much to my embarrassment. So, I had to hold on to my hat and drop the reins, giving Crazy Horse his head, so I could manipulate the controls of the camera with one hand. Fortunately, Crazy Horse was very familiar with the best route and was as sure-footed as Canela. I ended up with some crazily tilted shots, but surprisingly few considering the challenges.

The steeple of San Juan Parangaricutiro church. Almost all that is left of San Juan is the ruins of the church. Another town nearby was named Paricutin, but was completely buried and the volcano took its name. The farm house behind the steeple was probably built after the volcano went dormant. I took this with a telephoto setting from the town of Angahuan. You are looking at the church from the back side.

The church, close up. The black lava is mounded up to the second-story level of the church. It was tricky getting good photos because that required moving around over heaps of huge lava boulders. Not only were some of the boulders unstable, but there was constant danger of a fall into various crevasses. And worst of all, the lava was razor sharp. A fall into the rocks even from a short distance would leave me looking like fresh hamburger. To my amazement troops of Mexicans, sometimes whole families, were clambering over the lava. One mother came by carrying a small baby in each arm. I tried not to think of what would happen if she fell.

The front of the church. The man pictured is standing in what was once probably a large stained glass window on the second floor of the church. Since my lava boulder perch was well above him, the lava must have once reached almost to the roof.

Church front from the other side. There was a whole other story below the part of the church you can see, but it could only be reached by wriggling through some narrow crevasses in the lava. This must have been quite a large church for a town as small as San Juan was once.
Looking out the former stained glass window from inside. The lava was piled up inside the church as well as outside. The final destruction of the town and the church, which occurred about a year after the initial eruption, must have been an horrific scene.

Inside the church, looking toward the back. As the lava cooled over time, it must have peeled back away from the sides of the church. You can see that the level of the lava field is actually above the walls in back. Fortunately, the townspeople had a chance to remove valuable objects prior to the final coming of the lava. Still, the loss of a town where they and their ancestors had lived for many centuries must have been a hard blow.

San Juan Parangaricutiro church glows gently in the fading light. In the background, the Paricutin cinder cone looms as a reminder of what brought the end. In fact, the townspeople return periodically to hold services in the hollow shell of the old church. In Mexico, nothing really dies.

This completes Part 3 of my Uruapan series. In the next posting, I will show the Fabrica de Hilados y Tejidos, an old textile factory that now houses a folk art center in Uruapan. I hope you enjoyed this posting. Feel free to comment either by email or in the comments section below.

Hasta luego! Jim

Uruapan Part 2 - An uban rainforest

La Yerbabuena Cascada. On our first morning in Uruapan, Carole and I walked over to the Eduardo Ruiz National Park, also called Barranca del Cupatitzio (Ravine of the Cupatitzio). The Rio Cupatitzio originates in the foothills of the mountains and pours through a lush, narrow ravine on the northwest side of Uruapan. The park entrance is only a few blocks from the zocalo, or central plaza of Uruapan, and so can be easily accessed by anyone staying at one of the many hotels and B&Bs in the area.

The park is open from 8:00 AM to 6:00 PM, seven days a week. We recommend a morning exploration of the park. While the park was almost empty when we arrived, by noon there were throngs of people everywhere. Uruapan is off the beaten track for most gringo tourists, and the people we encountered in the park as well as elsewhere in town were almost entirely Mexican.

Mural near the park entrance demonstrates Purepechan crafts.  The more I looked at this mural, the more I saw. The man in the center and the women on either side are engaged in several of the many crafts for which both Uruapan and Michoacan State in general are famous. The woman on the left is weaving cloth, possibly one of the beautiful rebozos we saw everywhere. Beside her lies a guitar, the signature craft of the nearby village of Paracho (see Part 1). The man is carving one of the magical wooden masks used in Purepechan dances, and his finished work lies at his feet. Notice the tassels hanging down from his hat, a typical mode of dress. The woman on the right is painting a ceramic bowl, another famous product of the area. Behind them lie two carved wooden posts. Woodworking is a major craft of Michoacan and of Uruapan in particular, because of the pine forests which cover the mountainous interior of Michoacan.

Splashing fountain with painted footing brings cool relief on a warm day. Just inside the entrance of the park we found this fountain surrounded by a large pool with a gorgeously painted bottom. Although I did an extensive search on Google, I was unable to find much about the origins of the Eduardo Ruiz Park.  It was created in 1938 to protect the Rio Cupatitzio watershed. I had assumed Eduardo Ruiz was the creator or designer, but actually he was a 19th Century Mexican war hero who grew up in the area. The designer of the amazing assortment of man-made fountains and waterfalls found throughout the park remains a mystery to me. If anyone can enlighten me, please do so in the comments  section at the end of this posting.   

Kids always know how to enjoy a fountain on a hot day. Many Mexican families arrived throughout the late morning and it was fun watching the kids explore the delights of the park. I always find Mexican kids remarkably well behaved. Perhaps the reason is that so many adult members of the extended family are around to keep an eye on them. 

An unusual harp. I had never seen a harp shaped like this. The musician played beautifully, although the bottom of his instrument bore a remarkable resemblance to a coffin. Live music is everywhere in Mexico. It is one of the things I love about living here.

One of many natural waterfalls in Barranca del Cupatitzio. The ravine drops down steeply on both sides of the river. At the bottom a narrow rocky gorge channels the water into a rushing torrent.

Catching some rays. A banana tree spreads its wing-like leaves to catch the rays of sun filtering through the thick canopy overhead. The Spanish brought bananas to Mexico. The history of bananas goes back to at least 2000 B.C. when they were apparently discovered in Malaysia. The wild banana is inedible, but early people discovered that by crossing two inedible species, a sterile edible plant could be raised. The plant is propagated by taking shoots off its base. It may be the first fruit cultivated by humans.

Cobblestone paths followed  the course of the Cupatitzio on both sides. Sometimes the paths were connected by stone bridges like the one seen above. This photo gives a feeling for one of the less turbulent sections of the river. Just before the bridge on the right, you can see one of the small man-made waterfalls. The unknown designer channeled the numerous small streams that feed the Cupatitzio and with them created an amazing array of water displays.

A quiet spot for contemplation. This narrow platform created the perfect spot for me to take a break and enjoy the natural waterfall in the background. A large number of these quiet spots were situated strategically throughout the park.  The designer really knew his business.

Cloud forest fills the space on either side of the ravine. The base of the ravine is designated "cloud forest" because of the consistently cool moist air which creates a thick, jungle-like environment, with triple canopy vegetation. The place was in constant semi-shadow, with shafts of light penetrating from place to place.  

Knick-knacks and light snacks. Unlike U.S. parks, where commercial activity is generally forbidden except for certain concessionaires (usually well-connected corporations), there were many small booths in various parts of the park. The booths were well constructed and appropriate to the setting and most seemed like family operations. One can buy souvenirs, cooked food, and even beautifully embroidered clothing in these small  booths. 

Chowing down. Roasted corn ears are a favorite Mexican snack. This little girl worked through hers in record time. All that's needed is a small brazier, a few chips of wood, plenty of fresh corn to roast, and one is in business.

Fountain of the murals. This was one of my favorite fountains. About 20 yards long, the wall on top was once covered by a colorful mural. The colors have faded and run, creating a picture that looks like an abstract painting. But the water itself was most attractive to me, springing out of the long lines of spouts over stone that has gone green from moss. A sculpture in water.

Brugmansia. This flower is one of six species of the genus Brugmansia, and its pink coloration makes it the rarest. Brugmansia is wide spread in North America and particularly in Mexico where the most diversity occurs. Until recently it was thought to be related  to the poisonous Datura plant, but it is actually a closely related but separate genus. Both Brugmansia and Datura are commonly called "Angels' Trumpets", for obvious reasons.

Fountain in a waterfall. I thought this was one of the more unusual creations of the park. I have never seen a waterfall with a fountain springing out of the middle. I was constantly charmed by these little vignettes around each corner.

More Brugmansia. This is the "double white" species, more common than the pink version shown earlier. We saw these throughout the park. They grow best in partially shady, wind-protected spots. The park was obviously an ideal location.

A curtain of water. This man-made waterfall resembled a spillway for a miniature hydro-electric dam. When the water gets to the bottom, it is collected in a gutter arching around the base and channeled away toward the river. This allows the visitor to stand almost under the waterfall to view it.

Waterfall curtain from on top. A pathway curved along the top of the waterfall, allowing a look down the sheet of water to the natural amphitheatre below.

Another unusual waterfall. I call this the "waterfall of the planters". The designer directed the flow of water around the two rectangular planters and down a series of steps.  From there, it is channeled away from the cobblestone path toward the river.

Time for a treat. Two small boys get ready to enjoy a bag of fresh fruit. The boy in back seems a bit impatient with his friend's effort to get at their treat.

Bridges tie the whole park together. There are at least five of these stone bridges along the Cupatitzio within the park. They make it easy to move from one part of the park to another in an area that must have been very rugged terrain before the park was constructed.

Ferns and waterfalls alternate along the walkway. Still another unusual design. The fern planters alternate from top to bottom, as do the waterfalls. 

Making a splash. I thought his would have been a very pleasant photo, even without the dramatic dive of the young Mexican caught in mid-air above the pool. You can see him in the upper right of the picture. He had asked us if we would tip him for a dive, and of course we said yes. That's a pretty good drop from the top of El Golgota Cascada to the pool below.

La Rodilla del Diablo. "The Devils Elbow" springs are the source of the Cupatitzio. While the water appears to be turquoise colored, it is really is crystal clear.  The color comes from the bottom of the pool.  The white streaks on the water are reflections of the sun off the shiny leaves of the plants above.

Water nymphs of the Barranca del Cupatitzio. Back at the main entrance, I stumbled across this striking mural. The life of the indians prior to the arrival of the Spanish must have been idyllic. At least the painters, Marianda and Michel de la Cruz seemed to think so. We do know that indians occupied the area for a long time back. We also know that Uruapan means, in Purepechan, "where the hearts of plants bloom like the flowers and enjoy a perpetual spring".

This completes Part 2 of my Uruapan series. My next posting will focus on the Paracutin volcano and the remains of the small town buried by lava in its 1943 eruption.