AfterLife

Born in Buenos Aires in 1840, the first Ángel de Estrada came from a long line of wealthy landowners & helped found the Sociedad Rural Argentina at the age of 26. His family connections plus large amounts of cash helped Ángel become a successful businessman. In 1869, he established a publishing house, the Editorial Estrada, which still exists today as part of the Macmillan Group. Many of his later ventures would have to do with publishing, including the first paper factory in Argentina & the production of elements for printing presses. Eventually, De Estrada would provide many of the educational materials needed for the rapidly growing nation. Ángel de Estrada passed away in 1918.

Perhaps his son, also named Ángel de Estrada, is better known because of the body of work he left behind. De Estrada (hijo) was born in 1872 in Buenos Aires & became a recognized novelist & poet… very fitting given his father’s legacy. He often traveled to Europe & was inspired by classic Greek & Roman literature as well as works of the Renaissance. In 1923, a boat accident just off the shore of Rio de Janeiro ended his career prematurely. The son’s upper-class connections would be remembered by a plaque from the Liga Patriótica Argentina:

One of the tallest mausoleums in Recoleta Cemetery, its placement among the long rows of the southeast section makes it difficult to appreciate & to photograph:

Two separate entrances, one to the altar & another to the crypt below, are gated & prevent visitors from appreciating the interiors:

But keen observers will note that the decoration was inspired by the cemetery’s entrance gate… almost a carbon copy:

Much remains unknown about the life of Francisco Salamone, including his birthplace. Some authors say he was born in Italy while other claim Buenos Aires as his birthplace. At least he left a body of work that would leave no doubt about the author.

After studying architecture & engineering at several different universities in Argentina, Salamone received his degree in 1917. Through his friendship with Manuel Fresco, governor of the Province of Buenos Aires, he got a big break. Hired to design & modernize public works throughout the province, between 1936 & 1940 Salamone constructed over 60 buildings in his trademark style.

Breaking through the flat grasslands of La Pampa, Salamone designed towering white structures which could be seen easily from a distance. Governor Fresco liked Mussolini—a fairly common trait in Italian descendants in Argentina in those days—and gave Salamone free reign to build something that would fit in with modern, Fascist design. The end product was futuristic, something completely unexpected in small towns seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

Salamone’s works can be divided into general categories: town halls, cemeteries & slaughterhouses. He designed other buildings as well, but those three were the bulk of his work. He even worked on smaller projects like benches & light fixtures for plazas. Many had fallen into disuse, but the rise of tourism in Argentina over the last ten years as well as an increased focus on the nation’s architectural heritage has made Salamone popular once again. Restoration projects have begun & a few tours offer weekend excursions to towns that are difficult to connect using public transportation alone.

Salamone passed away in 1959 & was originally buried in Recoleta Cemetery. Unfortunately architecture buffs can no longer pay their respects, since the family vault moved to Berazategui (south of Quilmes). I decided to include him in this blog anyway because of his importance, an example of one more person who has moved away from Recoleta Cemetery & Salamone’s work with cemeteries. The top photo in this post is of the cemetery in Azul & those below are in Saldungaray, Laprida & Balcarce:

Given his newly found popularity, there are a variety of online sources about the architecture of Salamone (in Spanish). All photos are from Marcelo Metayer who administers the architect’s Flickr group, Andrés Tórtola filmed a travel documentary about Salamone & is currently working on the sequel, & Edward Shaw talks about returning to the works of Salamone ten years after his first visit.

Born in Salta in 1868, José Félix Uriburu joined the Military Academy located on the outskirts of Buenos Aires at the age of 17. Five years later, he would participate in the birth of civil society in Argentina during the Revolución del 1890. But he would soon part ways with the Radicals.

When President Luis Sáenz Peña resigned in 1895, Vice-President José Evaristo de Uriburu—the uncle of José Félix—took over. The younger Uriburu became his uncle’s assistant & got first-hand experience in government. In 1905 he helped President Manuel Quintana stifle another attempted Radical coup.

Uriburu continued to move up swiftly through both military & political circles. He was sent to Europe to learn techniques to improve the Argentine military & soon after elected as a representative for his native province of Salta in Congress. After obtaining the rank of Division General, Uriburu retired against his will… but would soon return to be the center of attention.

Uriburu led the first military coup in Argentina in 1930. Ousting democratically elected Radical President Hipólito Yrigoyen, historians credit Uriburu with starting military involvement in politics… a trend that would lead to a series of military takeovers until 1983. Conservative & very Catholic, Uriburu called for elections but annulled results when the Radicals won. In fact, Uriburu ushered in what historians call the “Infamous Decade” where democracy was only given lip service.

Uriburu handed the presidency to military colleague General Agustín P. Justo in 1932. Diagnosed with stomach cancer, he went to Paris for treatment but died soon after arrival. Surprisingly, his mausoleum is unkempt & unadorned… perhaps his family fell on hard times & no longer pay maintenance fees. Whatever the reason, Uriburu’s legacy to Argentine history—good, bad or indifferent—has disappeared from public view in Recoleta Cemetery.

American anthropologist W. Lloyd Warner wrote the following in “The Living and the Dead: A Study of the Symbolic Life of Americans,” first published in 1959 (emphasis mine):

When cemeteries no longer receive fresh burials which continue to tie the emotions of the living to the recently dead & thereby connect the living in a chain of generations to an early ancestry, the graveyards must lose their sacred quality & become objects of historical ritual. The lifetime of individuals & the living meanings of cemeteries are curiously interdependent, for both are dependent on an ascription of sacred meaning bestowed upon them by those who live. The symbols of death say what life is and those of life define what death must be. The meanings of man’s fate are forever what he makes them…

This distinction between “active” & “dead” cemeteries & how their significance changes to those who are living is very interesting in the case of Recoleta Cemetery because it receives so much tourism. It straddles the line between Warner’s sacred symbol & historic site. While guiding, I would always remind visitors to be respectful because it is indeed a functioning cemetery & we often witnessed funeral ceremonies. As two distinct groups of people inside the cemetery for very different reasons, I have always considered taking photos of funeral services to be taboo… even though I’ve been tempted by some of the more elaborate displays.

Another overlooked aspect of Recoleta Cemetery is the role it plays in collective memory. Commemorative services—like that for Admiral Guillermo Brown—occur frequently, but they are usually only witnessed by a few. The interconnection & social ties that commemoration builds would seem to be lost, with participation limited to a very small percentage of the population. Tourists may enjoy witnessing such services, but they are intended for Argentines… who are often absent.

But anyone, tourist or local, can learn from Warner’s observation that the symbols of death explain what life is. Visiting Recoleta Cemetery helps us understand who we are by connecting with the past & giving us a sense of continuity. Perhaps that’s why I’m such a big fan of visiting cemeteries—I love seeing how different cultures deal with life.

Photo of W. Lloyd Warner: Margaret Bourke-White/Time & Life Pictures/Getty Images, taken on 01 May 1949. Post inspired by “The Collective Memory Reader” edited by Olick, Vinitzky, Seroussi & Levy (2011)… a fantastic collection of essays investigating society’s interpretation of the past & present.