When a pair of your favorite clients drop a hint that they would like you to design and furnish their hacienda overlooking the Sea of Cortez near Cabo San Lucas, you don’t hesitate—you leap. And off the cliff I have joyfully leapt, plunging as deeply as possible into the architectural, cultural and visual world of Mexico.
And with a rich history of craftsmanship, Mexico can be a tempting box of chocolates, as long as you know where to look and prepare for delays. With a good percentage of the population trained as artisans, much of what you can dream up can also turn into reality with a Mexican interpretation, naturally.
As the United States has its renowned centers of furniture making, craftsmanship and skilled artisans, e.g., Highpoint, North Carolina, New York City and throughout the Los Angeles area, so too does Mexico. Much revered for its intricate wrought ironwork and elaborate wood carving, the colonial city of San Miguel de Allende is usually a designer’s or architect’s first stop. You step out of your taxi and the balm of good craftsmanship surrounds you. Spanish Baroque doors chiseled out of parrotia or mesquite greet you with all their scrolls and garlands and putti angels. Stone carvers have surrounded these entrances with beefy frames of a local conglomerate stone called “cantera.” Much of the charm here lies in the sometimes tribal, sometimes gruff interpretation of the sophisticated European styles of Neoclassicism, Rococo, Baroque and Gothic. Over the centuries, burglary, assault, pillage and rape have spawned a wrought and cast iron lacework of window grids, entry gates and balcony guards. Despite the fact that these casas (townhouses) and casonas (grand town houses) face inward toward their bougainvillea festooned courtyards, their street faces of deteriorating plaster crumbling stone and weathered brick often reveal the glory inside only through their elaborate doors, carved cantera mouldings and detailed ironwork.
Cobblestone street after cobblestone street is chock-a-block with artisan studios, artisan representatives and small workrooms. Zocalo represents local ceramicists with over-the-top pineapple sculptures in traditional ochre and verdant green. Casas Colonials, located in a large central courtyard casita, purveys local wrought iron beds and carved cantera urns. The store, Maria Luisa, patronizes wonderful punched-tin artisans (another specialty of San Miguel) with a shop filled with silver, gold and patinated atmospheric lanterns. Well known for its ex-patriot community from the U.S., France, Japan and Canada, San Miguel hosts a number of stylish design boutiques, reflecting the ex-pat’s vision of Mexico. Mitu, whose owner is of Asian descent, relishes the eclecticism that an often invaded country displays. In her beautifully faded casa, she displays Mexican antiques, sleek consoles and daring chandeliers amidst 19th century rooms stenciled and painted like a Spanish palace.
Evos is a stop for reproduction hacienda furniture. Though, to me, this furniture is much more appealing in its lighter, more weathered finishes, the Spanish attitude prevails in heavy carvings stained in dark Inquisition browns. Top it off with Evo’s wonderful iron chandeliers and spiky Gothic standing lamps and your “casa de torture” is complete.
Mexican style strangely, but sometimes effectively, combines a chunky interpretation of Spanish Baroque with highly modern chrome, glass and stainless. A master at this can be found at San Miguel’s local D&D, the atelier Dewayne Youts. A Hemingway style ex-pat, Youts displays a beautiful Spanish cross walnut armoire next to a shattered mirrored glass lamp with successful panache.
San Miguel de Allende is an unabashed mélange of styles. It’s a potpourri of cultures—Spanish, French, Moroccan—with a layer of Venetian decay and an aspiration toward Manhattan minimalism. To walk the streets absorbing four centuries of Mexican architecture is a treat. To observe a window frame carved like a Spanish curtain pelmet yet interpreted through a Mayan sensibility is to catch the magic. To look beyond a Rococo carved door, through the elaborate tracery of an amber iron gate while moonlit bougainvillea cascades over a patterned talavera tiled wall is Mexico’s soft seduction. Fountains are everywhere with the gentle sounds of trickling water, crescendos of the mariachi rise and fall from corner to corner, and a Spanish guitar serenade rises from the multitude of courtyard cafes and restaurants. Though home to many older (and politically disgruntled) ex-pats, San Miguel feels quite genuinely Mexican. There are no golf courses, few gated communities, and San Miguel is a vibrant colonial hill town alive with music festivals, artists, dance and literary events and foremost, San Miguel is central to the artisan output in Mexico.
The surrounding colonial towns of Guanajuato and Dolores Hidalgo are also worth a visit primarily if you wish to commission some of their very colorful and extremely reasonable pottery. Taxis are inexpensive and geared toward getting you there and they will wait while you shop. Be advised that a bit of Spanish is helpful because negotiation and customization is definitely the name of the game.
Because the nature of my client’s home was primarily traditional hacienda style, I passed Mexico City which boasts a contemporary approach. Guadalajara, Mexico’s second city, with six million residents, is close to the heart of the other home furnishing producing area, which includes the villages of Tlaquepaque and Tonalá.
Tlaquepaque describes itself as the “artisan community that produces the greatest variety of handicrafts in Mexico. Old plazas and streets with beautiful casonas (large courtyard mansions) have been restored to create a pedestrian shopping area with over 200 purveyors and shops.”
In Tlaquepaque, if they don’t have what you want, their response switches to: “Will you draw me a picture, and I will make it.” Such is their attitude towards craftsmanship. Their glass factory, Vitro Disenas Artesanales, had limitless capabilities in that hefty hand blown style—generous swirling tequila glasses, enormous zoftig pitchers and tumblers with specs of glass like confetti were amusing and cheap.
Embroidered and beaded fabrics were available at Mona’s. Graphic images of Mayan animals are embroidered in eye popping lime, orange, cobalt and azure. At Herlina Palacios, antique local Indian fabrics are assembled into large pillows, bedspreads and dust skirts. The tribal textiles are astonishing in the complexity of their weave and remarkable for their brilliance in hue.
One of the most refined of ironworkers I discovered was Eduardo Preciado whose hacienda-style knobs, handles and curtain rods were a Spanish marvel. And at his brother’s Diseno y Arte workshop, I discovered the largest selection of wrought iron chandeliers in Mexico—albeit the dustiest shop I’ve ever been in. Need a 50-pound bronze bell for your tower, or a 400-year-old door? Stop off at Artes Originales. Or maybe you need a complete set of country pottery (microwave safe) including the eggcups—see Felix at Puerta Bonita.
Outside of Tlaquepaque is another village called Tonalá, noted for its large number of factories, factory outlets and its random ugliness! A jewel in this rough is Replicas y Originales Ornelas where the Ornelas family has plied their wonderful trade for three generations. (Most artisans in Mexico seem to be from families of other artisans.) Ornelas specializes in rustic, huge country hacienda furniture created out of reclaimed mesquite, parrotia and sabino woods. Primitive and Adirondack meets Ponderosa in scale: Erik’s dining tables and bars seat 30. Accented with large nailheads, stamped iron and bronze braiding, these impressive tables of highly figured exotic Mexican wood are full of character and rich with presence. For a gutsy statement, with Flintstone refinement, one must turn to Ornelas.
A few tips on purchasing in Mexico. Patience—a bit of high school Spanish is extremely useful. Follow-through is iffy and what you ask for is seldom what you might get. Shipping is fine anywhere as long as you use Margaret del Rio of Consolidez—she’s from Chicago and talks faster than any New Yorker I know. Mexicans, similar to the Japanese, always say “yes” and seldom, if ever, say “no.” And I found all my contacts, vendors, hoteliers and restaurateurs to be amongst the genuinely sweetest and happiest people I have met (although not on time—though that is the pot calling the kettle black, I suppose).
With the dollar gaining great strength against the peso, now might be the time to investigate. Guadalajara’s is not pretty, but San Miguel can be a dream if you look beyond the telephone wires and decayed walls. Enjoy.
Marshall Watson is a nationally recognized interior and furniture designer who lives and works in the Hamptons and New York City. Reach him at 105 West 72nd Street, Suite 9B, New York, NY 10023.