The globalization/migration students made a trip to the Robert Brady Museum, an extensive collection of artwork in the late Iowan heir´s Cuernavacan home. The first room primarily showcases masks from around Mexico.
Love the jaguar.
Great bathrooms...
El señor Diego Rivera.
Brady wasn´t a religious man, but here´s the first crucifix of many.
Art from his world travels. Some of the acquisition, especially from indigenous peoples, is questionable.
Hey Jesuits!
Brady´s rendering of his cook, who apparently always had a bad temper.
Again, the jaguar.
Josephie Baker´s bedroom, where she stayed a few weeks out of the year.
At the end of the end of the tour, we found out that Robert Brady was gay. Big surprise.
The fame and fortune of the swingin´60s.
Ow.
The apostles with tequila, tortillas and watermelon. Genial.
Our tour guide shows us the lavish tapestries.
The bedroom...
I thought priests taught asceticism and humility.
More art across the street!
Bienvenidos, sharks are so very welcoming.
¿?
¨The police are whores¨.
Mm fresh orange juice. At this point, I realize my camera battery is dying. My only day in DF had to be scarcely photographed!
Great tapestry at the Museo de Artes Populares depicting everyday life.
Dedicado a Gonzalo Torné.
El Instituto Nacional de Bellas Artes.
Sanborns department store and restaurant in the lovely Casa de los Azulejos. Note the waitress passing in ¨traditional¨attire.
Una limpia, cleansing, at the Zócalo.
Plummer? Mason, anyone?
A statue of the pope with the virgin´s face and a bunch of keys.
La Catedral Metropolitana= kind of depressing.
Mass baptisms and confirmations.
Coyacán, a more residential and hip part of the city. Anna calls it the Brooklyn of DF.
Photos Prohibited at La Casa Azul! Here´s a glimpse from afar at Frida´s bed.
Chillin in Frida´s backyard.
A bizarre play with a singing Frida.
Dulces.
Every stop has it´s own symbol. I thought they were cute, Anna informed me they were for the illiterate.
So. Many. People.
