Through conversations with those who have lived and worked in the projects of interest, historians who have studied them, activists who have fought for their preservation, and iconoclasts who have wished them dismantled, En-Medio drops into architectural narratives of the city, long underway, to ask what possible futures lie ahead.^[1]

The sixth issue presents the Torre Insignia, the triangular office building designed in 1959 by Mario Pani in collaboration with Luis Ramos Cunningham. The tower was conceptualized as an icon for the Nonoalco-Tlatelolco Urban Complex, the second largest social housing project in North America and emblem of national progress during the presidency of Adolfo López Mateos. Located at the south-west corner of Tlatelolco, the building owes its peculiar character to a sui generis combination of influences: principles of Modern architecture embodied in its free plans, exposed concrete columns and glass façade; pre-Hispanic iconography incorporated into the large mural by Carlos Mérida; and a nod to the bell towers of Spanish colonial-era cathedrals by means of a 47-bell carillon housed in the tower’s open pinnacle. Upon completion in 1962, the Torre Insignia housed the federal development bank Banobras and served as the main location in which some 80,000 inhabitants of Tlatelolco would monthly pay their mortgages and service fees. Over time, the building’s site has served as a backdrop to a complex set of issues and events. The 1968 student protests and massacre, 1985 earthquake, and subsequent abandonment of the tower for more than two decades have challenged the Modernist aspirations with which Tlatelolco was initially built. Today, after being remodeled to briefly house the Ministry of Public Education (SEP) the Torre Insignia is now occupied by the Ministry of Health of Mexico City.

The following conversation took place in March 2018 with Yolanda Fernández de Córdova, a musician and employee of Banobras since the late 1970’s. We met to discuss her memories of playing the carillon atop the Torre Insignia since 1978, favorite songs, and evolving view of the city 127 meters above Tlatelolco.

Torre Insignia, conversation with Yolanda Fernández
de Córdova

Yolanda Fernández de Córdova
The Torre Insignia’s carillon is unique because it was made specifically for the building. There are many carillons in the cathedrals of Europe, but those were typically expanded ad hoc over the years, adding bells one at a time. This would result in a certain tone here, and another over there; the sound was not unified. When this instrument was brought to the top of the Torre Insignia in Tlatelolco—when Adolfo López Mateos was president—it had three systems: one that was mechanized to play rolls; one that was electrical; and this one, here, which is used to play the bells through wooden pedals operated by hands and feet.

Departamento del Distrito
What is the spatial composition of this carillon? It is one of the few instruments I know of that is many times larger than the human body.

YFC
The small bells—which have higher tones—are above the cabin. The bigger ones—which have the lower tones—are below it. The largest and main bell, named Miguel Hidalgo, is directly underneath us and weighs five and a half tons.^[2] The bell is located there for sound quality, as well as for security. In addition, under the cabin are four other bells named Morelos, Madero, Cuauhtémoc, and Madame Lacroix, who is the godmother of the instrument. The foot pedals you see here are used to operate the bigger bells below us.

DdD
The cabin where we are right now is situated  between the bells, inside the instrument. Is that typical?

YFC
No, it isn’t something one can find in every carillon. In that regard, this one is unique.

DdD
What is the story behind the arrival of this instrument to Mexico? It is a very specific situation…

YFC
In official documents the carillon appears as a donation from the Belgian government, but not much more is specified. Before the arrival of this instrument, there was already a carillon in the National Polytechnic Institute (IPN).^[3] I believe that one came to Mexico with a German exhibition. The one at IPN is much smaller, and was first installed at the Casco de Santo Tomás campus. 

The carillon for the Torre Insignia arrived to Mexico by boat to the port of Veracruz, and then traveled to Mexico City. There are photos of its arrival where one can see Adolfo López Mateos and Engineer Furlong’s entourage; they came to supervise the instrument’s installation. With that initial group also came a priest by the name of Father Cogs, who played this instrument as well as the one at Casco de Santo Tomás. When I began working at the Banobras nursery, which was right here at the Center for Child Development (CENDI), Father Cogs was still playing this carillon.^[4]

DdD
How did you arrive to CENDI at Banobras?

YFC
I’m a piano teacher, and was an executive secretary for many years. I’ve always worked at kindergartens, and I began working at CENDI playing the piano. The story is that two of my sisters were already working here at Banobras; one of them was an accountant and the other a manager. I found out they didn’t have anyone to play the piano at the nursery, so I told them, “Hey, tell them they can hire me per hour,” and that’s how it began. Later on, after Father Cogs passed away in 1978, the management of Banobras called me to ask if I could play the carillon. I responded, “Well, let me get to know it.”

DdD
Did you have any experience?

YFC
I have never traveled, therefore I didn’t even know what a carillon was or how it was played. But, I came here, found the musical scale and the pedals, and told them, “Alright, let’s see what I can do.” I didn’t know the proper technique, so I began playing the instrument through intuition and by improvising. Some time later Margo Halsted, a professional carillon player, came to Mexico and I paid close attention to her technique. She left me some special scores which I used to practice. Many years later Loyd Lott, then president of the Guild of Carillonneurs in North America, visited. On that occasion we played a duet together that required four hands. He also left me an extensive collection of concert scores for the carillon—all very difficult, but I was able to play them in the end.

DdD
Was the Torre Insignia still occupied by Banobras during that time?

YFC
Yes, we were here for many years. Jacques Rogozinski was the director, then later Luis Pazos

DdD
And when you first began playing the carillon, how often did you come up here? It’s quite a trip, especially with the open circular stair you have to climb.

YFC
Around 1978 I began playing the instrument every day at noon, right after working at the CENDI nursery. I would stay up here until 1:00PM. We opted for this schedule because the bells warm up with the sun and the metal has a superior tone at that time of day.

DdD
I imagine that the sound of the carillon became well known in Tlatelolco and the surrounding neighborhoods.

YFC
That’s right. Back then the inhabitants of Tlatelolco could hear the carillon very well. In addition to the great sound of the instrument, when the building first opened there were speakers throughout the entire complex that would project every song. What’s more, although my mother never came up to watch me play in person, she would often listen to my concerts from below. She told me people passing on the street would think it was a recording, and that this gave her the courage and desire to say, “No, that’s my daughter!”

DdD
You had a big audience each day. How did you decide which pieces to play?

YFC
If it was a cold day I would play something to warm up. If it was raining or if it was cloudy out I would play “Sale el Sol” or “El Sol Nace para Todos,” and so on. On the eve of the Day of the Revolution or during the month of September I used to play pure Mexican: “Francisco Villa,” “Con mi 30/30” and all of those. I would always come up here escorted by maintenance personnel and they would also ask me to play folk music. I remember they would join me singing.

DdD
Are there other pieces you like playing here?

YFC
Oh, I love to play movie soundtracks. There is a song from Mary Poppins, it’s called “Chim Chim Cher-ee.” Let’s see if you remember it… (Starts playing.)

DdD
Of course! Playing this instrument clearly brings you joy.

YFC
Well, look. To be honest learning to play this instrument was a gift from God. Music already lifts our spirits, but playing this instrument up here—from this height and with this sound—it completed my life. It gave it a different meaning, a beautiful one.

DdD
Do you have any memories from this place that stand out in particular?

YFC
I’ve had many special visitors. I remember a visit from the Director of Music Education at Bellas Artes. At the end of my recital, I suggested for him to descend the spiral staircase while I continued playing. Doing this, you get the sensation that you are listening to the building itself, an unparalleled experience. He began going down and suddenly came back up and said he felt like dancing. “Go ahead and dance,” I said, “just don’t fall off!” I remember I was playing a classic polka song, which unfortunately I cannot play anymore because the keyboard makes it impossible now.

DdD
Why is it impossible?

YFC
There are certain keys that don’t work anymore. Look, this entire side of the keyboard doesn’t operate. That’s why there are certain pieces I cannot play anymore. Another problem is that because of the condition in which the cabin is—exposed to dust, wind and rain—all sorts of things fall on the keys. In terms of caring for the instrument, the only maintenance given to it is provided by my son and me. We grease the entire manual system, which is the only one that still works. The last time we did this was in 2014 because Frank Stephens, André Rieu’s violinist, visited.^[5]

We have knocked on the doors of many government offices asking for support. Unfortunately, whenever the administrations change any progress made is forgotten. It is a very tedious and tiring situation. At some point I simply decided to stop asking the government for help. Now I only seek support from private sources, sensible people who like music and truly want to help preserve the carillon. Another component that no longer works is the electronic clock that once marked the hours. That system used to toll the largest bell every fifteen minutes. At some point Banobras tried to fix the system but it was impossible.

DdD
But, again, why do you say it was impossible? Is it a foreign system that is difficult to fix?

YFC
Because personnel from The Verdin Company would have had to come from the United States. There was no budget for that. The earthquake of 1985 also had an impact. After that event nobody wanted to come here.

DdD
Of course. I imagine that working in the Torre Insignia after the earthquake was complex because of the damage that occurred in Tlatelolco.

YFC
Yes, everything changed. After the earthquake we all left and went to the Martínez neighborhood and then to Del Valle. The Torre Insignia was essentially abandoned, left vacant and only used for storage. Out of respect, I stopped playing the carillon for a long time. In reality, the building did not suffer considerable damage from the earthquake, but there was fear that the carillon was unstable and that a bell could fall…

DdD
So the fear was not so much that the building would collapse, but rather that a bell might fall from above.

YFC
Yes, that fear was natural. The main bell—Miguel Hidalgo—weighs five and a half tons. Its clapper, which is also made of bronze, weighs half a ton more.

The tower has never had structural damage. The company Real de Chapultepec—part of the real estate group JYSA who currently own the building—had a team of construction supervisors that corroborated this before acquiring the property in 2007. I believe the only thing they found was a minor inclination of the tower. They solved this by uncovering the foundations and adding 65 structural hydraulic piles to the existing 450. As far as I know, in addition to this each floor was reinforced by cinching the columns with metal plates from side to side so they would work together. The building was later fully renovated before the Public Education Ministry (SEP) moved in.
Anyway, sometime after the 1985 earthquake, due to the abandonment of the building, we tried to have the carillon donated and placed elsewhere. In the end we weren’t allowed to do this because the carillon plays an essential structural role—it serves as the tower’s counterweight.

DdD
So when Mario Pani designed the tower he most likely knew it would house a carillon, which the Belgian government must have already promised.

YFC
Yes, that must be right.

DdD
Did you ever visit to play the carillon during the time the tower was abandoned?

YFC
Yes, I did. We had to ask for special permission, which was not easy because of security reasons.

DdD
Can you elaborate on this period in your life? I imagine it was a moment of much agitation in Mexico City, and for Tlatelolco in particular. Playing this instrument in an abandoned tower, for an audience on street level, seems like a gesture of great hope and generosity. Do these sentiments resonate with your experience?

YFC
Without a doubt, although I have to say that back then I was simply mortified the carillon would remain abandoned and uncared for. Immediately after the earthquake, I stopped playing the instrument out of respect for the inhabitants of the complex. The sound of the bells scared them because they thought the earth was moving. Half a year after the tragedy, when I resumed playing it, I had personal reasons of course. I did it for the pleasure of playing the carillon, but also as a small way to bring relief to the people of Tlatelolco.