Walking Along Broadway, A Visual Journey: Part II: Miraflores

I walked to Brackenridge Park today, camera in hand, to take some photographs of a curious gathering of ruins spanning Hildebrand Avenue west of Broadway Street.

My visit was partly inspired by an eye-catching statue I'd seen out of my periphery when driving toward the US-281 exit ramp the night before, in addition to a conversation I'd heard in the outdoor dining area at Central Market recently.

Three men, who were clearly from out of town based on the part of their conversation I overheard about them returning to Philadelphia, were having dinner together, and as they sat down with their entrees and drinks, one of the men made a joke about existentialism that prompted the other two to laugh.

As I eavesdropped, I heard the older gentleman talking about art and how he thought culture was changing and art was once again going to be a province of rich patrons and families.

Which leads me to the subject of this article: Miraflores.

A small park located at the corner of East Hildebrand Avenue across from the University of the Incarnate Word, it was under the original ownership of one Dr. Aureliano Urrutia who, according to this delicious article by writer Walt Lockley of Texas Escapes, was a Mexican doctor who arrived in San Antonio as a political exile in his early forties in 1915.

Mexico was full of violent insurrections and political unrest at the time, and Urrutia ended up operating on Mexican military gangster Victoriano Huerta's eyes and becoming a close adviser and minister of his government after Presidents Porfirio Diaz and Francisco Madero had their run in office.

Interestingly, the writer points out that Urrutia was known for trying to pass reform legislation under Huerta including a streetcar law and ordering the closing of pulquerias before eventually being accused of a medical assassination without anesthetic.

It was after his arrest by General Frederick Funston (After which nearby Funston Avenue in San Antonio is named) that he was able to exile himself to the U.S. by ship from Veracruz to New Orleans and by train to San Antonio.

While the article ends inconclusively on whether he was a war criminal, an innocent exile or something else, it's clear that he owned the property in and near the park, including 15 acres, from roughly 1925 through 1950, according to the Brackenridge Park Conservancy.

The San Antonio Conservation Society has had its eye on restoring Miraflores for a long time. Work is currently underway to complete the renovation of the entry towers and gates to Miraflores as part of the Mitigation for the Broadway Drainage Project under the Broadway Corridor Phase IIIA – Miraflores Park Mitigation Enhancements. 

As I was walking along an uphill lane from the park onto a sidewalk along Hildebrand Avenue, I noticed a placard featuring photographs of Urrutia's original conception for Miraflores. He created the contemplative garden as a reminder of his native Xochimilcho, Mexico.

Eroded ceramic tiles on the north side of the entry gate towers are being documented and removed, and new ceramic tiles, made in Mexico from the same region as the original tiles, are being installed. The stone wall and metal fence along Hildebrand have also been restored. (Image and caption courtesy of Brackenridge Park Conservancy.)




The city is working with RVK Architects to develop Miraflores as a cultural landscape. It's currently housed in a fenced-in property behind the AT&T Center along Broadway Street and is inaccessible to the public, but I infer from this that because of the plan and the regulations of the Texas Historic Commission, the garden will eventually be open to the public for people to peruse, take photos and admire the curious collection of stone statues that Urrutia procured.

There's no doubt the infamous doctor was a bit eccentric. Landmarks spotted around many other parts of San Antonio – including mid-century artist Dionicio Rodriguez's "faux-bois" structures, made of concrete shaped to look like wood – dot the landscape, along with a headless angel.

I spotted the angel just after turning right onto Hildebrand and heading down the steep sidewalk, passing a sign advertising a "Larger than Life" insect exhibit at the San Antonio Zoo.

The headless angel statue is larger than life itself, and an irresistible subject for a photo. The afternoon shadows cast the angel's wings, shoulders and neck, as well as the ornamental lions abutting her sides, in a lemony light while the statue's bust remains shadowed in earthy gray. The angel's body is sculpted and elongated in the style characteristic of the Italian Renaissance – Sandro Botticelli's lithe-bodied nymphs from "Venus" and "Primavera" come to mind. I can't help but snap several pictures as I head down the sidewalk, stopping to capture some vertical shots before turning back again.

My first photo of the headless angel, taken from directly in front. 

The same subject, taken vertically and facing southwest

Photo taken to the southeast

Something strange happened as I took more pictures from different angles. The headless angel seemed to take on a different character from the composed figure I saw when facing her. Facing southeast, the body was totally cast in shadow, with only the wings touched with light. From this vantage point, the angel took on a tormented look, her body encumbered by twisted garments. It's almost like she's struggling to fly.

Once I'm able to take a surrounding picture of the entire garden and the nearby property, it gives a better idea of what Mr. Urrutia might have had in mind here: Much like a gazing pond, this private domain was clearly meant as a display of not only wealth and artistic appreciation, but something beyond the traditional artwork found around other parts of San Antonio. It could be public art, but it's on private property, giving it a kind of forbidden appeal.

Looking southeast again, the body in shadows

Studying the statue, I wonder what Urrutia's inspiration was for including it in his motley collection. What's more, the staircase leading up to the three statues is disconnected from any permanent structure and is instead floating in a sea of green grass. If the placement of these objects is intentional, it gives the odd feeling that a large building or structure that once existed in the center of them has gone missing, though there are no clues of such a building remaining.

It isn't difficult to see why the city wants to make this park accessible to the park, and with the next phase of restoration including a walkway leading from Brackenridge Park into Miraflores (there was a bridge and terrace in place, but the gate was locked, and water from the river streamed over the sidewalk), it will send the message that Miraflores is a place for everyone to see and enjoy.

View encompassing the faux bois structure, obelisks, vegetation and rear of AT&T building.

A Movie About San Antonio: What Would It Be Like?

What would it be like to make a movie in San Antonio?

I can see the plot unfolding now: Two unassuming tourists leave their hotel to go sightseeing one morning, expecting to come home with some colorful photographs and bellies full of delicious Tex-Mex food. They're in the middle of touring the Japanese Tea Garden one afternoon when there's an unexpected turn of events.

Here's another idea: A journalist who's covering the local arts scene discovers that he or she has inadvertently become part of the story.

It could happen here, right?

San Antonio is certainly not new to the movie scene. Most locals and TV fans remember Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, made in 1985, where Pee-Wee Herman treks to San Antonio to find his bicycle and ends up taking a tour of the Alamo.

Plenty of other movies have been made in San Antonio throughout the decades, and many celebrities make their home in San Antonio.

The city is also home to a variety of outlets for people to express their cinematic skills and creativity. Local non-profits such as Urban-15, which hosts the Josiah Media Festival (Open to anyone 21 years old or younger with a Call for Entries from now through June 1) and the San Antonio Film Festival give artists and filmmakers a solid platform to share and display their cinematic work with a variety of audiences from around the world. (The Call for Entries for the Film Festival's annual contest is currently open with a March 24 deadline.)

Some of San Antonio's filmmakers have been on the scene for quite some time. Erik Bosse, a writer and filmmaker who works with art and cultural centers throughout the city, is involved in a variety of collaborative works with the local theater and dance community. He creates films that explore urban environments and recently contributed video to Mujer Enterrada: Something Happened Here, a multi-media installation located at Centro Cultural Aztlan, San Antonio's 40-year-old Chicano/a arts and cultural center.

The project celebrates the organization's yearly exhibition exploring the cultural implications, both historical and contemporary, of the signing of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo on Feb. 2, 1848. This year, the staff and curator worked to highlight the treaty's impact on women, naming this year's show Mujeres de Aztlan y El Segundo de Febrero. The project will be on display through March 15.

Bosse worked with ritualist and theater artist Laurie Dietrich, movement artist Amber Ortega-Perez and structural weaver and fiber artist Doerte Weber to complete the installation, assisting with the short movie that played on a loop.

An image from Bosse's video installation. (Image courtesy of Erik Bosse.)

Bosse has worked on other short films, too, including Magical Creatures: The Butterflies, a scene from Urban-15's recent multi-media performance piece, Lucia in the Faerie Garden, featuring dancers from the group's performance ensemble, including me.

Working on the video for this piece was a lot of fun. It began with a trip to Mission Espada with the Urban-15 production team, including artistic director Catherine Cisneros, Sound Design and Music Composition director George Cisneros, Music and Media Assistant Jonathan Anderson and Event Coordinator Marisol Cortez, and continued with an experimental flight through the park in the red and blue butterfly costumes designed by Catherine.

Erik filming me dressed as a butterfly as part of the video segment of Lucia in the Faerie Garden. 

While I've envisioned making my own movies here and along the stretches of South Texas, this was my first time participating in the making of a video in San Antonio, and for that, I'm really proud. Seeing the butterflies in motion afterward was transcendent, and feeling like a life-sized insect gives a feeling that's comparable to nothing else.

Later in the park, stretching my wings.