Tlaquepaque’s plaza looking toward St. Peter the Apostle.
Santuario Nuestra Señora de la Soledad.
The interior of the Santuario.
For our anniversary (March 17), we splurged and hired a private driver to take us to Tlaquepaque, one of the more upscale neighborhoods of Guadalajara. Hiring private drivers is a common practice here, since renting cars can be quite expensive, and driving in Mexico is not for the faint-hearted. This ended up costing us about 1000 pesos–about $50–but we figured it was our anniversary, so we went all out. In future, we will take the “Directo” bus into Guadalajara, then get a taxi–a much more reasonable option, at about $15 all up.
Of Tlaquepaque we knew only what we had read in our Lonely Planet guide, which wasn’t a lot, but the book did tell us that there were two museums of ceramics in the neighborhood, and I had found what sounded like a good restaurant from Trip Advisor online. We had the driver let us off right next to the first of the ceramic museums we had read about, Museo Pantaleon Panduro, also referred to as Museo Nacional de la Ceramica, on the corner of Florida and Sanchez.
The museum is housed in one section of an enormous convent hospital built in the 18th century. Somehow the Lonely Planet description of the collection led us to believe that this was a collection of all kinds of traditional Mexican folk art, when in fact it displays the winners of a national annual award for artisanal ceramic craft. It took us a while to figure this out, however. Entering the museum, the one woman at the front desk seemed pleasantly surprised to see foreigner visitors. There were no guides, no brochures, no explanations of what was to be found in the rooms in front of us, and no bookshop. A group of students were working diligently on some project in a room off of the central courtyard. While there were some guards and curators wandering around, no one spoke English, and while tremendously friendly, they really acted as if they had never seen a tourist before. When I tried in my broken Spanish to find out how the collection came to be, one guide hailed a woman, obviously a curator of some kind, who went upstairs to bring down a book and gave us three DVDs about the “Premio”–the award which provides the museum with all of its artworks (I think; the DVDs gave no documentation of the awards, but just florid rhapsodies about the “miracles” of native creativity!). In any case, it is a magnificent collection of the extremely rich and varied ceramic arts from around the entire country. I used to have some knowledge about the styles of various regions, but I have gotten very rusty now, and will have to do some research to remember which motifs come from which area.
From Puebla? Hummingbirds!
Cristina Acosta Rodriguez, Matrimonio Blanca, Casas Grandes, Chihuahua.
Angela Estrella Silveria Hernandez, Laberintos, Casas Grandes, Chihuahua.
Gerardo Ortega Lopez, “Kenkis”, Tonala, Jalisco
Jose Rosario Alvarez Ramierz, “Verde Blanco y Colorado”, Tonala, Jalisco.
A traditional water jug form, in the shape of a dog. From Colima.
I love that the figures in Hell are in bathing suits!
True to form, I was also intrigued by the numerous interpretation of cats that the collection included, ranging from traditional lions to modern versions of ceramic felines.
Finally, my very favorite work in the collection was in the room dedicated to women artisans, in a style that I was not immediately familiar with.
Created by Gabriela Aldana Luna, from Tonalá, Jalisco (home of Guadalajara’s best artisans), it won second place at the Awards in 1990. I have now done a little research to learn that, as I suspected, this blue-and-white style developed as early as the 17th century in Puebla, in direct imitation of Chinese ware that was imported through the galleon trade. So this is a modern craftsperson creating a traditional style that was consciously emulating an Asian style, but incorporating native designs of local animals and flowers. Syncretism indeed!
Our next stop was the Museo Regional de la Ceramica, on Independencia, Tlaquepaque’s main shopping street. The setting is once again an impressive adobe complex, which was once a
A whimsical design on an arch in the bookshop of the Museo.
magnificent house for one of Guadalajara’s aristocratic families. Beautiful arches! The courtyard had several craftsman vendors, and there is even a very good shop, with books and ceramics for sale.
The collections here were more diverse than Pantaleon, with both English and Spanish labels, and more descriptive information. We were enchanted with the whimsical creations, including a ceramic airplane, and an entire wall of individual tiles. And check out those spooky nahuales!
After feasting on all this visual gorgeousness, it was time for lunch. We walked over to Zaguan, the restaurant I had found reviewed on Trip Advisor. And what a great find it was!
Very innovative menu–that’s G. eating a fish taco entrada with tortillas made out of jicama. The mushroom bruschetta were fantastic! One of the best meals we have had, tasted like home made creative food, and certainly the best meal we have had in Mexico so far. NO ONE was there, which is dismaying; we hope more people come for dinner. If you’re ever in Guadalajara, be sure to go there! Zaguan, Juarez 5, Tlaquepaque 45580.
Finally, on our walk back to find our driver, we found, as only we seem to be able to find, a public library!
The library seems to have grown out of one person’s efforts, and is now, by all appearances, a thriving center, with a children’s room, and, as we saw when we walked in, classes of all sorts for adults (this one was a workshop in making ceramics, appropriately enough).
A very nice day for our first venture into the big city of Guadalajara. We have now also gone into the Centro historico on regular bus, and will, hopefully, report on that adventure, too. Next week, we will go to Tonalá, the other suburb of town where most of the artisanal crafts for which the city is famous are actually made, and cost far less than in the toney shops of Tlaquepaque.