Anyone can read or visit Casa Estudio Luis Barragán, and many spend their money to do so, so I won’t be offering many factoids because I would have looked them up on Google just like the rest of you. What I do want to share is about my thought process while visiting as well as the idea of leaving a legacy that people want to emulate, pursue, or even replicate.

When I visit historical sites, museums, and galleries, I often think about if the artist knew what would become of their work after death: if they knew people would care so much, if they knew their ideas and work would be fawned over and written about for decades to come. It also leads me to think of the millions of talented artists who don’t get the high praises and maybe died quietly with their work and stories unshared and unknown. It makes me think about the tension between wanting to express yourself and having the confidence to do so, or if to be an artist, you must only do it for yourself with no expectations or reciprocation for your work. I believe it can be both and that there is nothing wrong with wanting to create a spectacle for people to either ridicule or enjoy. Creating something is the first step that a lot of people never even have the bravery to do. It’s something I try to encourage others of when I have the honor of hearing a whisper of their aspirations or hesitations to create something. If no one has ever told you: write the song, start the business, change the career, or tell them you love them.

Countless visits to Mexico City, Chapultepec, y los museos and still, I never had the timing right to visit any of Luis Barragán’s projects, until now. I made sure to plan ahead this time and purchase a ticket to visit. You can’t be late as visits are timed very accurately, but of course, I was late due to calling my uber without haste and thankfully they were kind enough to push me to the next group ahead. The only consequence of my inaction was to wait outside as it lightly rained. I got lucky, just don’t do what I did. You can purchase your ticket directly on their site. After a short welcome from the staff as well as a video, you are free to explore at your own pace, ask questions, and even take [non-mobile] photographs with a proper permit. I always regret not having more photos than just on my phone, so I opted for the extra payment to use my professional equipment paired with a light, travel lens. Be prepared. There’s always going to be one douchebag tool who tries flex and get away with sneaky photos without paying for a permit. Not impressed by that.

The home’s first room was bright and welcoming. The yellow ceiling panels were paired with warm, wooden seats for the waiting room and large timeline installation which I truly could have used the entire allotted visiting time for, just reading about the history of Mexican architecture and how Barragán’s life and work fit into the story.

Shortly after the welcome space, you make your way to el “Patio de las Ollas” a contemplative area with large, various-sized clay vessels used for mezcal. There you will also see a fountain and cascading vines of similar hue. Through a small corridor, you’re led to a large floor to ceiling window where you see the inside of the home.

The warmth and boldness of what was witnessed inside couldn’t help but make me question the design choices of the modern age. I’m glad I never gravitated towards all-whites, beige on beige, or a grey couch, but have had my share of trying to coordinate too hard with blacks and spacing between art that was too contrived. I think it’s so important for your dwelling place to be reflective of your character, life experiences, interests, and adventures. For many people to not have this opportunity, even in a less grandiose or common-folk form, makes me yearn for them because I believe everyone deserves a special and unique space to gather, feel protected, safe, and known. I also deeply desire that all humans have the freedom and means to have simple hobbies and meaningful interactions that inspire them. We’d have better people in the world this way. It was good to remind myself that as a son of landowners, Luis grew up surrounded by the haciendas of Jalisco and was an engineering student, having the means and support to create his legacy, which not everyone is fortunate enough to do. It doesn’t discount his immense talent and radical eye. To even switch careers from engineer to architect is a feat. Barragán’s home and studio reminded me of my maternal grandparent’s home which housed anomalous Spanish tile, textiles draped on various chestnut-colored furniture, and various knickknacks signifying a well-travelled past. It’s something I miss and ruminate on from time to time and something that gives me a sense of home when observing homes like this.

Would Luis Barragán laugh if he knew I was writing about my experience in his home while listening to Sza’s deluxe album? I believe he would understand, but tell me I was overthinking it and to get back to work. Usually, when I have the urge to recount and debrief, which is something I’ve chosen to have more time for this year, I’m in a contemplative state: in a place where I can’t talk to anyone about these stories and thoughts, ultimately just having the desire to be understood and listened to. I think that’s a huge theme to her new album: poetic vulnerability, action without regard, realizing that you have to deal with various human emotions and lean into fate: that ruminating over the past is human, but it only gets us so far. I guess that’s a subliminal reason why I decided to put her on while creating this entry. All I did was visit a museum and yet something led me to recount the feelings I felt while doing so and trying to figure out what drew me there besides knowing it was a historical must-do in Mexico City. I felt somber, motivated, inquisitive.

I have a weird reaction to when people are too quick to describe things as retro, vintage, or antique. Maybe it’s because at the time they were made and used, they were not retro, vintage, or antiques. I typically prefer to describe things as they are or were: where they were made, by whom, or when. Cobalt blue glass bottles, shaggy beige carpet, brown textured, tweed-like loveseat. I loved this room because I noticed everything was shoved against the wall facing inward. Normally, that’s not a pleasing or interesting layout, but part of it reminded of traditional households that you see growing up or on television, not these unattainable Architectural Digest standards.

The terrace is one of the more famous parts of the home and it is great to get group or solo photos of which I helped a few people do, naturally.

Towards the end of the tour, you’re led into the gift shop which sells art, postcards, books, and other higher-ticket items. I opted for a small magazine and postcard and had a really lovely interaction with the staff on the topic of language. When in Mexico, of course the first thing I do is speak Spanish and if someone wants to switch to English, I concede. I was politely thanked for speaking Spanish from a staff member who said “I’m not a nice guy and I don’t give compliments, but thank you” while he and his colleagues proceeded to mentioned that countless visitors are brash and like to assume English is spoken without asking or attempting to learn a few introductory phrases. I laughed, didn’t dwell too long, and left with a positive feeling, rare for many museum staff interactions. It reminded me that a lot of the work I do by taking interest in specific regional culture practices, slang, history, and literature is worth the process.

This won’t be my last mentions of Luis Barragán, as I was able to visit two more homes on this particular trip that made for heavy contemplation and visually appealing information overload.