On the north end of the city, at the terminus of Calzada Independencia, butted against the University of Guadalajara’s art, architecture and design school, sits a plot of land belonging to the city of Guadalajara known as Parque Mirador Independencia. Now, during the rainy season, this space greens, verdant and lively with groups of dragonflies humming from tree to tree. There are other typical park attractions: a basketball court, swing sets, slides and even an amphitheater.
Of course, this particular park’s most notable draw is a spectacular view of Huentitan canyon. From almost anywhere in the park, green peaks form a wide and dramatic backdrop, rising from the other side of the ravine some two or three miles off. In between, the open air struts out over a 1,700 foot drop to the narrow Santiago River below.
This remarkable feature — exploited by several overlooks and a pavilion built into the design of the pedestrian walks — is what also brought the park into the spotlight in the last decade as the site of a proposed Guggenheim museum. The new outlet for the world famous art chain would have perched dramatically at the precipice, surrounded by the lush, rejuvenated Parque Mirador Independencia. The entire ambitious project infamously fell through in 2009. Now, that disappointment has long settled and the city has moved on to Plan B — a generic (and cheaper) art museum.
The Barranca Museo de Arte Moderno y Contemporáneo, as it will be known, broke ground in the park in November of last year. Since that time they have carved out and sectioned off a large portion of the upper plateau that used to include a soccer field and 182 trees. To date, they haven’t yet laid concrete, and are projecting a 2017 completion.
“It’s at half of normal traffic,” says Ernesto Duran Melendrez of the park’s visitors. He’s a 35-year veteran of the restaurant, El Mirador, a pavilion-style place situated in the park and overlooking the extraordinary view of the canyon. “The people feel very discouraged by promises made that don’t come and by continuing construction.”
Indeed, a snacks and beverages park vendor also expressed discontent at being moved by the construction to a less desirable section of the park, and by the overall lower numbers these days. A 2017 completion would mean five years of underwhelming traffic and income for the small park and the tiny economy that depends on it.
And while the eventual opening of the 118,400 square foot Swiss-designed modern museum could bring salad days to places like El Mirador, they are going to have to hang on in the meantime to get there.
Using park space for public works projects has become a pattern endemic to Tapatío society of late. Several of the metro’s parks have been renovated to provide more activities and services for families, cutting into these spaces.
According to an academic publication by Margarita Anaya Corona of the University of Guadalajara’s department of geography and regional planning, “Green spaces only have meaningful environmental benefits and ecological repercussions when each one has a surface larger than ten hectares [24.7 acres].” That means precious few examples in the metro area — 12 to be exact.
Others, such as University of Guadalajara biologist Josue Diaz Vazquez, agree that such large areas provide great benefits to the levels of pollution and heat in the city. Corona adds that maintaining the green spaces of the cities smaller parks and then even open spaces should be priorities as well “to form ecological corridors connected by tree-lined medians and strips.”
Parque Avila Camacho has recently seen new playgrounds and games areas, a skate park, bicycling trails, and a commercial area for vendors. Other parks like Liberacion and San Rafael have added stands, soccer fields (of artificial turf), and aerobic areas.
Of course, in preparation for and in the wake of the Pan American Games, Parque Metropolitano added a large aquatics center, tennis courts, and a whole section to the north with trails and parking and bathrooms.
All of these projects consume formerly green sections of these parks.
When officials scan the crowded city to find locations for new projects, making use of park space looks increasingly prudent and efficient, and parks slowly get eaten up by concrete recreation centers and museums.
Successful tree planting projects in Metropolitano, Colomos and Mirador Oblatos parks this summer have helped balance the equation, but the city is going to have to be careful to guard its green spaces—small and especially large—for the future.