“Out of sight. Out of mind.” The expression could ring true in any large metropolis where the casualty of time takes a toll. From the 24/7 grind of traffic on streets, to extreme weather, Bogotá has seen its share of wear and buildings are often the first to suffer. While some landmarks are renovated, others are left to crumble and sometimes disappear completely.
Rebecca removed
At the mouth of Copenhagen’s port sits “Little Mermaid.” With her bronze leg and fin curled upon a rock, she is a symbol of Danish literature and much photographed by those who stroll the Baltic seashore. Just 13 years after Edvard Eriksen unveiled his small statue, Bogotá had her Rebecca – a white marble sculpture crafted in Paris by Colombian artist Hernando Henao Buriticá. Although she was shunned by President Miguel Abadía Méndez for her graceful nakedness, the inhabitants of this cold Andean city appreciated her neo-classical curves. Copied from a French original by Roaul Vernet, La Rebecca was the first fountain in the park known as the Parque del Centenario.
But she became a case study in sculptural abuse, as vandals would go at her, and after losing a nose and several fingers, Rebecca, was removed from the park. With the expansion of the Transmilenio network and public works projects near the Calle 26, Rebecca was taken from downtown to be preserved by a city cultural entity. Recently, this symbol of Bogotá was relocated near the base of the Torre Colpatria, although with ongoing construction it remains to be seen if her new home will do the statue justice.
Chorro de Quevedo
Nestled above the Calle 13 with Carrera 2 in old Candelaria, the Quevedo fountain marks the place where in 1538, Gonzalo Jiménez de Quesada (1503-1579) a Spanish marshal of the Kingdom of the New Granada, established the fist foundations of what would become Bogotá. In 1832 a monk of the Augustine community, with surname “Quevedo,” built a fountain for those who were living there and even though there is still a fountain, it is not the original, as that one was destroyed back in 1896.
The “Ermita del Humilladero” church in the plaza, is a replica of a church that once stood in the Santander Park and was torn down for being too plain from the outside. Today, the steps of the church and the surrounding arch built by Javier Olave in honor of local lunatics – Bobo del Tranvía, the Conde Cuchute, the Loca Margarita – brings out the best in street culture, especially at dusk, when storytellers (cuenteros) gather to entertain and charm bystanders.
More than a fountain “of stories” and meeting place for modern day minstrels, Chorro de Quevedo has been the location for films shot in the city, such as Sergio Cabrera’s La estrategia del caracol and Harold Trompetero’s Diastole y Sistole – films that tackle Bogotá’s hippie subculture. Narrow alleyways funnel out from Chorro de Quevedo and have been taken over by artist studios and hostels. But one building, just several blocks away, is still “home” to many ghosts.
House of “Bandido”
In the 1850s, New Granada was becoming more liberalized as artisans from the regions came to the capital to ply their trade as carpenters and ironsmiths. As the upper class bureaucrats, landholders and merchants accepted the influx of labor from the provinces, security became a concern as many homes and businesses were burglarized. Crime, already a problem in Victorian London, was also emancipating itself in the New World. In 1851, a 35 year-old José Raimundo Russi was arrested along with three mill workers accused of leading a criminal band and murdering a local blacksmith and former friend, Manuel Forero.
Attacking the artisan community put Russi on the blacklist of criminals and as much as the elite feared him, he was admired by the lower classes for his pro bono work as a defense attorney. This failed teacher who defended the cases of liberal activists was tried and after losing a presidential pardon, executed by hanging. Russi’s house in La Candelaria became known as the “Casa del Bandido” (Cra 2 with Calle 11), and served as a private home until the 1950s. It is believed that Russi wanders the rooms and halls every night and as one of the most haunted houses in La Candelaria, no one dares step foot inside. Hence, the padlocks on the door.
Hat Street
“Sombreros Brando” says it all. If you are in the mood for a felt fedora or finely woven aguadeño, Calle 11, on the western corner of the Plaza Bolivar is Bogotá’s “hat street”. For decades, when Bogotanos would not be caught dead without a gabardine, umbrella and dome-shaped Derby, this street was frequented by those who took head gear as seriously as life. Now the same family bsuinesses have diversified into leather “western” styles, such as cowboy hats for hitting the finca on weekend. While for the local cachacos black was the preferred color of choice for hats, the centro has definitely become more colorful, and today, hat makers are incorporating bold designs with plaid and tweed patterns.
Gone to the Grecas
There used to be a time (not so long ago) when the corner of Calle 20 with Décima was coffee central and Republican storefronts gleamed with metal brewing machines called grecas capable of pumping out industrial sized servings of tinto. Running for three blocks, the grecas even had their own Palacio – a company that migrated north when the neighborhood went south. If you find yourself heading into the centro on a Germania-bound bus, you can still appreciate from the window the remnants of the greca family dynasties, now all but shuttered up, as coffee brewing has become an art in itself, from the baristas of the north to Juan Valdez comfort.
Hotel Dorantes
It could have been Bogotá’s equivalent to the Chelsea Hotel if Bob Dylan or Dylan Thomas had spent time in the city, but Hotel Dorantes has gone from grand to gawdy. Used in several music videos for its high ceilings and woodwork, the Dorantes was a family mansion until in 1960, it was turned into a hotel to compete with the likes of the nearby Continental. Today, it’s a cheap boarding place for low-end travelers not familiar with backpacking culture. While the Continental has undergone an important renovation, with rooms selling as apartment suites, the Hotel Dorantes is an overlooked and sad reflection of Bogotá’s past.
Parque de los Periodistas
In 1883, Florentine architect Pietro Cantini (1847-1929) decided he would create a monument to honour the 100 years of Simon Bolivar’s birth. After finishing the edifice and its official inauguration on April 20th, 1884, the statue of the Liberator was removed the following day and placed in the vaults of the Capitol building. The Colombian Congress then decided that Bolivar should stand near the independence bridge at the Puente de Boyacá. But it never arrived there either – instead the statue ended up in rather uneventful Tunja.
The sculpture of the Liberator, which today is surrounded by Doric columns as the centerpiece of the Plaza de los Periodistas (Cra 4 with 17) was created by sculptor Gerardo Benitez. Cantini’s monument (inspired by the Tempietto de San Pietro in Rome) has been vandalized by graffiti and grass grows on its stone dome. As a nesting place for pigeons, this monument of an Italian who also created the Colon Theatre, is another sign of how Bogotá’s patrimony is too often left to the passing of time.
Photos by Constanze Graesche
