San Miguel De Allende, Mexico 2007

(Article appeared in Ottawa's Centretown BUZZ & Glebe report, Oct/ Nov 2007)

“You haven’t been to San Miguel?”
“Every artist should know about San Miguel.”

As an artist and art instructor, I was asked again and again. Each time a vague impression of this place was forming in my mind until finally one day, a student from my Glebe Community Centre class brought in a thin, faded booklet from a trip she had taken …to San Miguel De Allende, Mexico. Okay, I got the picture and it was loud and clear. With charming cobblestone streets winding past bright, textured buildings and rambling vegetation, San Miguel was truly an artist’s paradise. The past few years I had been offering art workshops all over the city of Ottawa, why not run one in Mexico? I had never done anything like this before and my heart raced at the idea. I came home that day and asked my husband what he thought. Was I crazy? With his usual “Go for it. What are you waiting for?” response, I began planning my trip almost immediately.

During my internet research, I found I was doing a lot of ‘virtual handshaking’ arranging rides, day-trips and accommodations. This initially made me very nervous, but to my surprise, in less than three months I had secured an incredible house to rent, flights, ground transportation and enough participants to create my first one-week watercolour workshop in San Miguel De Allende, Mexico.

My group was made up of loyal students that I had taught over the years in Ottawa. Mostly recently retired ladies and one participant’s very adventurous husband. We met at my house in December to look over our itinerary and synchronize our somewhat complicated flight schedules. Due to its rather remote location, getting to San Miguel De Allende (or SMA as the local expats call it) is not exactly straightforward. It is set in the highlands, 4 hours north of Mexico City in the state of Guanajuato. We chose Leon’s tiny airport and after 2 stopovers arrived at 10:00pm exhausted yet eager to make our final leg of the journey by car. I had made arrangements with a private tour company and after a short wait our petite driver Jorge arrived. “Mees Creestal?” I shook his hand and he generously took our luggage and the seven of us loaded into a Suburban for the 1.5 hour drive.

The lit highway from the city of Leon quickly fell away to a very dark, narrow and uneven road. I kept half an eye on nodding Jorge who I suspected had probably been driving all day, while the other half of me was being pulled into the strange landscape. I could make out the silhouettes of distant mountains that shifted and overlapped like a herd of migrating beasts. In all this darkness, we had only a few seconds to enjoy bright flashes of tin villages strung with Christmas lights alive with children riding bicycles and patrons buying roasted corn on the cob at impromptu food stands. Then suddenly back to black and those persistent topes (speed bumps). Suddenly our driver spoke, “Okay, we are very close now”. We rounded a bend and gasped. Finally there it was spread out in front of us twinkling like scattered diamonds, the Colonial jewel of Mexico, San Miguel.

We made our way into town and then just to the outskirts where the house was. Jorge stopped in a narrow, cobblestone alley in front of a wall with an incredibly discreet door, dark and heavy with iron hinges. We entered directly into a breathtaking sala, an al fresco dining area enveloped in lush greenery under the stars. The residences in San Miguel can best be described as garden with a house and ours was no exception. Solar garden lights guided us along the interlocking stone walkway past trickling fountains, flowering vines and through french doors to the interior space. We met Pedro our off-site handyman who welcomed us in and sat us down for some hearty chicken soup. He familiarized us with the unusual layout of Casa Feliz, handed us our keys and bid us goodnight.

The next morning the resounding church bells of La Parroquia filled my little casita, an upstairs apartment on the terrace. Dogs barked, children squealed and roosters crowed all as if to say Wake-up! Wake-up! I opened my blinds to find that my apartment had an almost a 360 degree view of the town. At 7:30 am construction work had already begun. On the rooftop across the street, a line of laundry had been hung and the sun that was burning the mist off the mountains was saturating the clothes in blissful colour. I quickly washed up and joined my companions for breakfast in the sala where our stout, grinning housekeeper Melena had prepared coffee, toast, yoghurt, papaya and piña (pineapple).

For our first day, I had arranged a walking tour with Patronato pro Niños a non-profit organization that provides medical and dental care to low-income children in the community. We met at our guide at the ideal location, San Miguel’s National Art School, Instituto Allende. Housed in a sprawling, lavish former palace, it offers a range of classes from general interest to a full BFA program and attracts thousands of artists from around the world.

The tour was an invaluable orientation. Our guide was a slim American woman with a brisk stride and fast tongue. She did her best to keep us focused and infused the walk with historical facts on San Miguel De Allende’s highly dramatic past, celebrated heroes and truly unique architecture. As a group of artists, we were in our glory, snapping digital photos and filling up our memory cards. Our walk lead us to the Jardin, the citys main square and La Parroquia, the most famous of San Miguel’s landmarks. A pink church whose architect supposedly drew the plans for its pseudo-gothic facade in the sand in 1888. The tour gave me a good idea of places to revisit for sketching and painting.

With the church in the background and plenty of shade, we decided to return to the Jardin the next day for a series of quick, timed sketches of people in action. It is not unheard of to set up an easel in the middle of a square or side street here. Artists creating artwork spontaneously is part of the appeal of San Miguel. We felt so much at ease that as we were sketching, a student of mine even walked up to her subject to ask if he would mind keeping his position for a while longer while she finished her study. This request was met graciously with a light chuckle.

As much as the people are fascinating, the architecture of San Miguel is incredibly seductive. The texture, colour and care given to the smallest of dwellings is inspiring. You feel as though you are walking into a living breathing painting. It is nearly impossible not want to photograph every little detail. Rooftops sprawl with flowering vines and oversized pottery. A house is numbered with a hand painted tile pressed into a crumbling ochre wall. Even a bronze doorknocker becomes the perfect subject with its natural patina contrasting against a white, peeling door. Every home is a work of art blending into its environment in pure, visual harmony.

Much of this undisturbed harmony has to do with the fact that in 1926, San Miguel De Allende was declared a National Monument. No intrusive billboards, ugly flashing signs, neon lights or fast food chains are permitted within the city center. Efforts are also made outside of the city to preserve the areas natural beauty and aesthetic.

One of our early lessons was at the El Charco del Ingenio a large conservation area of more than 100 hectares set in the highlands and only short 15 minute cab ride from the historic town. During the rainy season, water overflows a huge dam, cascading into the wooded depths of the canyon pool (El Charco). In the very arid month of January there was no such water however. We walked past enormous cacti in the beating sun along the path that encircled the desiccated canyon. At the onset of our walk was an incredible view of SMA in the distance and the perfect backdrop for a group photo. It is here that reading and re-reading the El Charco pamphlet would have been invaluable. I stepped off the path and onto a demure but fierce low-lying cactus and was promptly rewarded by a searing pain that shot up my leg. A 2 inch cactus thorn had punctured my running shoe without (luckily) breaking off inside my foot. I later discovered some words of wisdom found in that rather informative pamphlet “WARNING: Stay on the path” I would consider adding to this “always travel with disinfectant wipes and band-aids” (and thank-you to my friends who did).

Belles Artes also known as Centro Cultural El Nigromante was a less hostile setting and the site of our final lesson. Belles Artes is an art school, cultural center and art gallery all in one. With its striking domed rooftop, pebbled courtyard, shady avocado trees and romantic colonial fountain, it is an irresistible location to read, sketch or enjoy a cafesito at the adjacent café. Although it was closed to students for Christmas holidays, a few of us strolled the empty arched hallways and peered through dusty windows to see looms, large charcoal drawings, pottery and stained glass projects in suspension. For me painting here was magical. A light breeze carried the now distinctive sweet fragrance of San Miguel while the water fountain (the subject of our watercolour painting) offered a tranquil ambience.

It wasn’t all work and no play however. In between our lessons (and sometimes during) we took the time to enjoy the Mercado de Artesanias filled with fresh flowers, fruit and vegetables, inexpensive ceramics, jewellery, tin and woven art. On our day off, three women drove four hours to see the Monarch butterfly migration in Morelia. The rest of our of us took in the House and Garden Tour, which runs every Sunday at the Biblióteca Publico (the largest bilingual library in Mexico). The tour offers a sneak peak at the interiors and hidden treasures of some of San Miguel’s most spectacular homes. Later two of us took a two-hour horseback ride through the stunning highland countryside until the sun began to set.

From the very first day I woke up in San Miguel De Allende, I decided my one-week workshop would not be enough. I am consequently running two 11-day sessions this January and will personally be there for the month. With near perfect weather (27 degrees and no humidity) affordable accommodations and great hospitality you can see why many artists including world champion figure skater and painter Toller Cranston now call San Miguel home. There is an expat community of about 2-5,000, (depending upon the season). Despite this I still felt as though I was still seeing the real Mexico. With much of the city remaining Spanish speaking, its beautifully restored architecture, cleanly swept cobblestone streets and cheerfully painted haciendas it is appears perfectly preserved.

San Miguel De Allende has been ranked as one of the top 10 destinations in the world by top travel publications. Why then, when so many go there to rejuvenate, over-winter, retire or paint is San Miguel still one of the world’s best kept secrets? Some say it is still relatively unknown because its limited accessibility or perhaps the idea of learning a new language is intimidating. I think it’s because once you’ve been, you never want to come back and as it’s growing population of American and Canadian residents suggest, many simply do not.
Crystal Beshara is an award winning artist, illustrator and art instructor living in Ottawa.

For more information on her 2008 painting workshop in San Miguel de Allende
or to view her artwork visit: www.crystalbeshara.com