Thanks to Stephen, who in contrast to me conducted extensive research in preparation for our trip, we were able to tour the historic center of Mexico City with a gay guide who was also an architecture graduate. After bringing us to a lovely courtyard cafe and noting that the trees were real, he took us to a stairway in the back of the room that led to the second floor.
Here, he showed us a mural called ‘the Holocaust’ that was painted in 1944 by Manuel Rodriguez Losano, a gay artist who according to Wikipedia was known for his “‘melancholy’ depiction of Mexico rather than the more dominant political or festive one of the Mexican muralism movement.” This melancholy is an example of a condition that I have lately been thinking about as Gay Sadness, which I see as the less-heralded (but equally important) counterpart to Gay Pride.
We next went to the rooftop terrace of a building that before being turned into a museum was owned by a political activist named Carlos Monsivais who is considered to be a founder of the modern gay rights movement in Mexico. According to Wikipedia, he “chose to be buried with a gay pride flag on his coffin, indicating that he was a gay man.” According to our guide, he was also a major cat lover, also indicating that he was a gay man.
Our next stop was the Ministry of Public Education building, which features a beautiful courtyard and a large collection of murals by Diego Rivera.
Seeing these murals reminded me how tired I am of seeing art by and about people who are stupidly rich.
Here is a mural celebrating the literacy programs that one hundred years ago, in the wake of the Mexican Revolution, taught people of all ages how to read. In 2025, we must console ourselves with shows like “Below Deck” that ridicule the upper class.
Outside, I found myself back in Europe.
We drank very good hot chocolate in a hidden courtyard cafe.
And a late lunch in another hidden courtyard that has a miniature skate park and is a venue for punk-rock bands.
Recently I was trying to describe what the bathrooms at CBGB looked like and I found the answer in Mexico City.
We went to the “Tile House,” an 18th-century Baroque palace built by the Count of the Valle de Orizaba family. I asked our guide if the Count had been gay, and he said, “Can there be any doubt?”
Nothing in the building is level — you could roll marbles across the floors — but it is bustling with multiple stories of an old-time chain restaurant called Sanborns.
Our guide took us out to a Juliette balcony so that we could take in the street from above. He explained that even though the building is privately owned, it is considered a public resource, which means he is entitled to walk through and admire it, in the same way gay couples can now hold hands in the cathedrals without fear of being upbraided by an official of the church.
Back outside, we stopped to watch a girl getting photographed for her quinceañera in front of the Palace of Fine Arts.
