Revitalizing Public Space

Originally from Pachuca, the capital city of the state of Hidalgo, Orta arrived in Tizayuca last February to lead three art workshops at Complejo Colibrí, which opened to the public in April but was officially inaugurated in August.

“I taught figure drawing, painting, and calligraphy courses,” Orta says, noting that because classes at the community center are free of charge, people of all backgrounds are able to participate. “I had students of all ages, but what I enjoyed the most was working with seniors.”

Not long ago, the site of Complejo Colibrí was another of the many vacant lots scattered across Tizayuca. Despite its close proximity to Mexico City and Pachuca, Tizayuca’s status as a minor city in the state of Hidalgo resulted in meager investment in public infrastructure, with resources flowing elsewhere.

Even as the region experienced rapid population growth, driven by industrial expansion, higher levels of governments paid little attention to the recreational and cultural needs of local children and youth. Today Tizayuca faces high levels of crime and violence.

“Revitalizing public space contributes to weaving back together the social fabric,” Orta says, noting that the new community center is helping to do just that. “Every afternoon the volleyball and basketball courts are bustling with children and youth — Tizayuca really needed a space where they could feel safe.”

Although there are twenty-three community centers in Tizayuca, many of them are in disrepair, while others aren’t adequately equipped to serve the needs of an increasingly diverse population. By providing a flexible space where sports, education, and culture can converge, Complejo Colibrí is slowly filling the gaps left by previous administrations.

“This community center has been very helpful in dismantling some of the structures that have kept Tizayuca residents geographically segregated,” explains Javier Alazañes, the municipality’s minister of social well-being, pointing at how the prevalence of socio-spatial fragmentation, or the separation of people by income and class in the city, has undermined Tizayuca’s sense of community.

“Complejo Colibrí has created new recreation opportunities not only for Huicalco neighbors,” he says,“but for residents of the entire municipality.”

Over the last six months, hundreds of people have signed up to learn figure drawing, play guitar, or make Indigenous crafts; many more have attended a food festival or simply dropped in to play an after-work cascarita (casual basketball game) with friends. The municipality plans to eventually keep the community center open 24-7 and anticipates up to twenty thousand visitors annually.

“Culture is a right,” Alazañes says. “Spaces like Complejo Colibrí help uphold it.”

Socially Oriented Architecture

Like Tizayuca, many communities across the country suffered neglect under neoliberal administrations. Public spaces were left underfunded and derelict, while others were privatized after decades of disrepair. In response, AMLO tasked the federal Secretariat of Land and Urban Development (SEDATU) with not just identifying projects that could improve public spaces and infrastructure in underserved communities but also building them.

“What our administration sought was to reduce the social inequities between the people living in large urban centers, such as Mexico City, Guadalajara, and Monterrey, and those living in the peripheries,” says Román Meyer-Falcón, who helmed SEDATU during AMLO’s administration. “In these areas, the absence of the state is palpable, so through our urban improvement program we built public spaces where people could feel safe in community.”

During the six years of AMLO’s presidency, more than 190 communities across the country benefitted from SEDATU’s urban improvement program, which orchestrated the revitalization of parks and plazas, as well as the construction of public markets, libraries, museums, and community centers. The outcomes of this program signal a stark departure from previous administrations. Public infrastructure is no longer an afterthought built on the cheap nor a burden on what was an increasingly obsolete state.

Led by Meyer-Falcón, SEDATU collaborated with architects and academics of international acclaim, including Fernanda Canales and Mauricio Rocha, to reinvigorate the role of architecture in Mexico’s Fourth Transformation. So far, 223 projects have received global recognition, including Tizayuca’s Complejo Colibrí.

“In the urban improvement program, architecture functions as a mechanism that fosters a sense of dignity and rootedness for the local communities,” Meyer-Falcón says, emphasizing that “the advantage of socially oriented architecture is that it guarantees the permanence and durability of an investment.”

Building for the People

The public infrastructure constructed since 2018 can be regarded as AMLO’s most tangible legacy, as the policies introduced during his mandate continue to transform Mexico’s landscape — both literally and figuratively.

“Building high-quality public architecture in the most impoverished regions of the country is the mark left by the Fourth Transformation on Mexico’s architecture,” says León Staines-Díaz, a professor of architecture and urban planning at the Monterrey Institute of Technology and Higher Education. He adds that the country’s political shift required a unique architectural expression because it signals a departure from nearly four decades of neoliberal rule.

“The fourth transformation is meant to give continuity to the work started in the revolutionary period,” he explains.

After the Mexican Revolution, the modernist movement gave Mexico a solid architectural footing. Architects such as José Villagrán and Juan O’Gorman embraced the clean lines and efficient designs of modernism, facilitating the mass production of schools and hospitals across the country, many of which continue to operate today.

Similarly, the projects built in the last six years showcase the social benefits of involving architects in public infrastructure, which include improved efficiency, flexibility, and sustainability. Like Complejo Colibrí in Hidalgo, iconic buildings such as Museo Meteorito, a geology museum in Yucatán, and Mercado Matamoros, a public market in Tamaulipas, combine local materials and construction methods with the monumental geometry of contemporary architecture, bringing Mexico’s public architecture back to the forefront — and to the people.

However, many challenges lie ahead.

Because these projects are located in less affluent communities, local governments often lack the resources and expertise to run the new spaces effectively, leading to unexpected closures and disrepair.

“I believe it’s very important that cities see public spaces as a means to foster people’s well-being,” Staines-Díaz says. “But not all support for this infrastructure has to come from the federal government; state and municipal governments can become involved too.”

Although SEDATU appears to be shifting focus from urban revitalization projects to much-needed housing, Staines-Díaz suggests that local governments should look to Mexico City’s Utopías initiative in Iztapalapa. “If you involve the community [and] consider the local resources, including people’s time and capacity, they will make a project their own.” This grassroots strategy for creating public spaces ensures that the community takes ownership of the projects and that the legacy of AMLO’s government lives on.