Protección Patrimonial en Buenos Aires. La Lucha de los Vecinos

Fachada del Cementerio de la Recoleta, en Buenos Aires. De http://buenos-aires.relacionarse.com

Me interesa mostrar el interés de los vecinos porteños a la hora de defender un edificio que ellos consideran de valor arquitectónico-histórico. Por supuesto, es innegable el valor del cementerio de la Recoleta, pero hay otras construcciones no tan reconocidas, que también tienen su valor ciertos grupos vecinales, que ahúnan esfuerzos para evitar su demolición. 

Aquí, un resumen de la nota de Diana Salinas Plaza para el diario argentino La Nación, publicada el 23 de enero de 2010.

Cementerio de la Recoleta. De http://img.diariodelviajero.com/2009/06/recoleta.jpg

Una llamada, un correo electrónico, un mensaje en Facebook, un recurso de amparo. Sea por el medio que fuere, cada vez son más los vecinos porteños quienes alertan cuando algún patrimonio arquitectónico está en riesgo. Y logran salvarlo. Se movilizan para lograr su objetivo: salvar edificios, monumentos, plazas y conjuntos barriales de alto valor histórico. Tanto es así que, en 2009, lograron que se abriera una Defensoría adjunta que recibe sus denuncias; que se sancionara una ley que modifica procedimientos legales para demoler edificios; que se frenaran demoliciones, y hasta que el gobierno porteño diera marcha atrás en los trabajos que hacía sobre algunos monumentos. Estas iniciativas individuales muchas veces terminan dando forma a asociaciones más grandes. Ya hay más de 44 organizaciones en una red que funciona bajo el nombre de Queremos Buenos Aires.

Trabajo hormiga

"¿Vieron que están vendiendo «el Castillito»? En el cartel, sólo explican las bondades del terreno como para construir", advirtió Andrea López, una vecina de Floresta. Fue ella quien observó el cartel de "Se vende" en "el Castillito", una espectacular casona que queda a la vuelta de su casa, en Dolores 438.

"Ana nos comentó. Llamamos a la inmobiliaria haciéndonos pasar por compradores interesados. Ahí nos confirmaron que una vez adquirido el inmueble se podía hacer cualquier cosa, incluso demolerlo", comentó Gabriel de Bela, uno de los vecinos que, junto con la asociación Salvar Floresta, inició el trabajo hormiga. Según contaron a LA NACION, consultaron en el Ministerio de Planeamiento Urbano si el inmueble tenía algún tipo de protección que evitara, por sus características arquitectónicas, ser demolido. Ante la negativa, iniciaron la movida para lograrlo. Esto incluyó recolección de firmas, reuniones, consultas a expertos, solicitudes de la protección necesaria, que se llama "catalogación", y diálogos constantes con la inmobiliaria, que generosamente aceptó la inquietud vecinal: cambiaron el aviso y expusieron las características de la propiedad, advirtiendo que se trataba de una casona en proceso de catalogación.

Otro caso es el de las escalinatas del cementerio de la Recoleta. Un vecino del barrio, integrante de la organización Basta de Demoler, paseaba un domingo por la zona y observó que parte de las escalinatas de la entrada de honor habían sido destruidas. A través de denuncias a la Defensoría del Pueblo y correos electrónicos de protesta a arquitectos y vecinos, se detuvo la obra del gobierno de la ciudad que estaba construyendo allí rampas. Según argumentaron los vecinos, se podían construir en otros accesos, sin tener que demoler el valiosísimo mármol de Carrara de las escalinatas, construidas por Juan Antonio Buschiazzo en 1881.

En la mayoría de los casos, los vecinos acuden a la Defensoría del Pueblo. Pero cuando la demolición es inminente, presentan recursos de amparo y a veces ellos mismos inician el proceso de catalogación, que implica un prolongado trabajo.

"En Buenos Aires, la protección patrimonial pasó de ser un asunto profesional a una militancia de miles de vecinos", dijo Gerardo Gómez Coronado, defensor adjunto encargado de proteger la preservación arquitectónica, cargo inaugurado en mayo de 2009. "Este cambio en la mirada de la protección trajo aparejado que se hayan logrado salvar innumerables edificaciones que corrían riesgo ante el mercado inmobiliario. En total, recibimos mensualmente un promedio de 15 a 20 denuncias de los vecinos. Y entre julio y diciembre, recibimos 100 consultas", detalló Gómez Coronado. "La participación vecinal hizo que en cada cuadra tuviéramos «inspectores», lo que trajo de la mano una especie de control."

Para leer toda la nota:

http://www.lanacion.com.ar/nota.asp?nota_id=1225103&origen=NLCult

Report from the Besieged City. Poem by Zbigniew Herbert (1924-1998).

The devastated city of Danzig. From http://www.danzigfreestate.org/pix/483.jpg

Too old to carry arms and fight like the others - 

they graciously gave me the inferior role of chronicler 

I record - I don't know for whom - the history of the siege 

I am supposed to be exact but I don't know when the invasion began 

two hundred years ago in December in September perhaps yesterday at dawn 

everyone here suffers from a loss of the sense of time 

all we have left is the place the attachment to the place 

we still rule over the ruins of temples spectres of gardens and houses 

if we lose the ruins nothing will be left 

I write as I can in the rhythm of interminable weeks 

monday: empty storehouses a rat became the unit of currency 

tuesday: the mayor murdered by unknown assailants 

wednesday: negotiations for a cease-fire the enemy has imprisoned our messengers 

we don't know where they are held that is the place of torture 

thursday: after a stormy meeting a majority of voices rejected 

the motion of the spice merchants for unconditional surrender 

friday: the beginning of the plague saturday: our invincible defender 

N.N. committed suicide sunday: no more water we drove back 

an attack at the eastern gate called the Gate of the Alliance 

all of this is monotonous I know it can't move anyone 

I avoid any commentary I keep a tight hold on my emotions I write about the facts 

only they it seems are appreciated in foreign markets 

yet with a certain pride I would like to inform the world 

that thanks to the war we have raised a new species of children 

our children don’t like fairy tales they play at killing 

awake and asleep they dream of soup of bread and bones 

just like dogs and cats 

in the evening I like to wander near the outposts of the city 

along the frontier of our uncertain freedom. 

I look at the swarms of soldiers below their lights 

I listen to the noise of drums barbarian shrieks 

truly it is inconceivable the City is still defending itself 

the siege has lasted a long time the enemies must take turns 

nothing unites them except the desire for our extermination 

Goths the Tartars Swedes troops of the Emperor regiments of the Transfiguration 

who can count them 

the colours of their banners change like the forest on the horizon 

from delicate bird's yellow in spring through green through red to winter's black 

and so in the evening released from facts I can think 

about distant ancient matters for example our 

friends beyond the sea I know they sincerely sympathize 

they send us flour lard sacks of comfort and good advice 

they don’t even know their fathers betrayed us 

our former allies at the time of the second Apocalypse 

their sons are blameless they deserve our gratitude therefore we are grateful 

they have not experienced a siege as long as eternity 

those struck by misfortune are always alone 

the defenders of the Dalai Lama the Kurds the Afghan mountaineers 

now as I write these words the advocates of conciliation 

have won the upper hand over the party of inflexibles 

a normal hesitation of moods fate still hangs in the balance 

cemeteries grow larger the number of defenders is smaller 

yet the defence continues it will continue to the end 

and if the City falls but a single man escapes 

he will carry the City within himself on the roads of exile 

he will be the City 

we look in the face of hunger the face of fire face of death 

worst of all - the face of betrayal 

and only our dreams have not been humiliated

From: http://www.poemhunter.com

Architecture. Poem by Zbigniew Herbert (1924-1998)

Picture from http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1178/936413029_5f6d3b5477.jpg

Over a delicate arch--

an eyebrow of stone--

on the unruffled forehead

of a wall

in joyful and open windows

where there are faces instead of geraniums

where rigorous rectangles

border a dreaming perspective

where a stream awakened by an ornament

flows on a quiet field of surfaces

movement meets stillness a line meets a shout

trembling uncertainty simple clarity

you are there

architecture

art of fantasy and stone

there you reside beauty

over an arch

light as a sigh

on a wall

pale from altitude

and a window

tearful with a pane of glass

a fugitive from apparent forms

I proclaim your motionless dance

From: http://www.poemhunter.com

Las paredes de Buenos Aires se cubren de murales: El Arte Como Transformador Social

En el hospital Garrahan se inauguró esta semana el mural de la artista Nushi Muntaabski Foto: LA NACION   /   Maxie Amena

Muchas veces he visto murales en mi hermosa ciudad de Buenos Aires, no tantos como en Los Angeles, que dicho sea de paso, aún siguen maltratados por los grafittis, cada vez más. Sin embargo, en este artículo de Susana Reinoso para el diario La Nación, se deja claro que también existe un gran fin social, en el trabajo de las villas (slums). Es muy interesante notar el cambio de actitud de la gente ante un mural religioso. A continuación, el artículo y el link.

Las paredes de Buenos Aires transmiten mensajes. A veces arrancan sonrisas o dejan pensando a los transeúntes. La tendencia de pintar murales ha crecido en la ciudad, y ya no sólo se embellecen los muros. Tanto el gobierno porteño como diversas ONG -con el Bicentenario como emblema-, pasando por la empresa Metrovías o el empresario Alan Faena, intervienen centros culturales en barrios, hospitales y escuelas públicas con murales que recrean temas históricos o del presente. O, simplemente, los creadores dejan volar su imaginación.

La entidad Arte sin Techo, por ejemplo, aportó su primer mural del Bicentenario para la plazoleta de calle Paraguay y Gallo, a espaldas del Hospital de Niños. Como sostenía la fallecida presidenta de Arte sin Techo, Felicitas Luisi: "Cuando pinta murales, la gente de la calle pasa de ser un NN a tener identidad. La pintura mural los transforma".

El artista Pablo Siquier es uno de los más requeridos para la tarea artística. En diciembre, Metrovías inauguró su más reciente obra en uno de los pasajes de la estación Carlos Pellegrini que transfieren varias líneas de subte. Su anterior mural fue para el Faena Art District y comenzó a pintar un tercero para la Facultad de Arquitectura de la UBA, a pedido del Programa Puertas del Bicentenario porteño.

Cuando el Estado interviene, una tendencia en curso adquiere más visibilidad. Es lo que ocurre con el Programa Puertas del Bicentenario, que este año completará los 70 murales en la ciudad, pensados como parte del legado histórico de la celebración de los 200 años de la Argentina. Los artistas participantes representan una diversidad de miradas, estilos y trayectorias.

Hay obras ya inauguradas de Antonia Guzmán, Vilma Piparo, Ernesto Pesce, Eduardo Stupía, Jorge Meijide y Héctor Meana, entre otros, pintadas en escuelas y hospitales de Palermo, Retiro, La Boca, Villa Ortúzar, San Cristóbal, Villa Crespo y Barracas, entre otros barrios porteños.

Imágenes patrias

La empresa Metrovías, según su área de Prensa, lleva 12 años creando murales en todas las estaciones de subte y premetro de su jurisdicción. Hermenegildo Sabat, Altuna, Robirosa, Polesello, García Sáez son algunos de los artistas que ya dejaron su sello en el subte porteño. Los murales de este año tendrán la marca "Bicentenario". La intención de Metrovías es inaugurar "una seguidilla de imágenes patrias".

Quizás uno de los programas más conmovedores en materia de pintura mural sea el que lleva adelante el Grupo Cruz del Sur, con el fin de prevenir la violencia y las adicciones de decenas de jóvenes que viven en las villas miseria porteñas.

"Creemos en el arte como transformador social", dice Damián Cápola, uno de los fundadores de la ONG, a LA NACION. Cruz del Sur trabaja en 16 villas y barrios carenciados de Buenos Aires. Con la modalidad de talleres, la entidad ha realizado el 90% de los más de 100 murales que ya se han pintado en las villas. "El verdadero héroe es el héroe en grupo", dice Cápola, que trabaja "con chicos que consumen paco y están en una edad de quiebre. Son chicos menores de 13 años que viven incluso en lugares donde existe una red de pedofilia enorme. Hemos comprobado que la violencia baja en los pasillos de las villas, donde se agarran a los tiros por lo menos una vez al día".

Hace un tiempo, el Grupo Cruz del Sur y los chicos de la villa pintaron una imagen de la Virgen de Caacupé. "En ese pasillo dejaron de tirotearse", dice Cápola con la espontaneidad de quien cree en los milagros. Fue también testigo de otro hecho insólito. Un hombre al que le faltaba una pierna se arrodilló como pudo frente a la imagen de un Cristo enorme que los chicos pintaban en uno de los muros de la villa donde viven. "Los pasillos cambian de nombre con la pintura mural. Hoy la gente habla del pasillo del ángel del amor o el pasillo del ángel de la música", cuenta con orgullo. Quizá los efectos que la pintura mural tiene sobre los chicos puedan explicarse en pocas palabras: "Los chicos se dan cuenta de que puede haber un futuro. Si pueden realizar una reproducción de la Virgen de Luján u otra creación artística con su propia mano, entonces pueden transformar su vida".

http://www.lanacion.com.ar/nota.asp?nota_id=1246966&origen=NLCult

Artistic Works Inside Egyptian Tombs

Drawing by Faucher-Gudin taken from a ¨squeeze¨ from the tomb of Ti. The domains are represented as women. The name is written before each figure with the designation of the landowner. Image from Projectgutenberg.org

This post is the second part of the previous one (About the Egyptian Village). 

http://myriammahiques.blogspot.com/2010/03/plan-of-villa-of-great-egyptian-noble.html

It is an excerpt from the book at project Gutenberg.org: History of Egypt, Chaldea, Syria, Babylonia and Assyria. By G. Maspero, who is introduced as ¨Honorable Doctor of Civil Laws, and Fellow of Queen´s College, Oxford; Member of the Institute and Professor at the College of France¨. Edited by A. H. Sayce, professor of Assyriology, Oxford. The Grolier Society, London. (out of print)

Drawing by Faucher-Gudin, from a photograph by Dumichen, Resultate, vol.i. pl. 13. Project Gutenberg.org

¨Neither pictorial effect nor the caprice of the moment was permitted to guide the artist in the choice of his subjects; all that he drew, pictures or words, bad a magical purpose. Every individual who built for himself an "eternal house," either attached to it a staff of priests of the double, of inspectors, scribes, and slaves, or else made an agreement with the priests of a neighbouring temple to serve the chapel in perpetuity. Lands taken from his patrimony, which thus became the "Domains of the Eternal House," rewarded them for their trouble, and supplied them with meats, vegetables, fruits, liquors, linen and vessels for sacrifice.

In theory, these "liturgies" were perpetuated from year to year, until the end of time; but in practice, after three or four generations, the older ancestors were forsaken for those who had died more recently. Notwithstanding the imprecations and threats of the donor against the priests who should neglect their duty, or against those who should usurp the funeral endowments, sooner or later there came a time when, forsaken by all, the double was in danger of perishing for want of sustenance. In order to ensure that the promised gifts, offered in substance on the day of burial, should be maintained throughout the centuries, the relatives not only depicted them upon the chapel walls, but represented in addition the lands which produced them, and the labour which contributed to their production. On one side we see ploughing, sowing, reaping, the carrying of the corn, the storing of the grain, the fattening of the poultry, and the driving of the cattle. A little further on, workmen of all descriptions are engaged in their several trades: shoemakers ply the awl, glassmakers blow through their tubes, metal founders watch over their smelting-pots, carpenters hew down trees and build a ship; groups of women weave or spin under the eye of a frowning taskmaster, who seems impatient of their chatter. Did the double in his hunger desire meat? He might choose from the pictures on the wall the animal that pleased him best, whether kid, ox, or gazelle; he might follow the course of its life, from its birth in the meadows to the slaughter-house and the kitchen, and might satisfy his hunger with its flesh. The double saw himself represented in the paintings as hunting, and to the hunt he went; he was painted eating and drinking with his wife, and he ate and drank with her; the pictured ploughing, harvesting, and gathering into barns, thus became to him actual realities. In fine, this painted world of men and things represented upon the wall was quickened by the same life which animated the double, upon whom it all depended: the picture of a meal or of a slave was perhaps that which best suited the shade of guest or of master.

Even to-day, when we enter one of these decorated chapels, the idea of death scarcely presents itself: we have rather the impression of being in some old-world house, to which the master may at any moment return. We see him portrayed everywhere upon the walls, followed by his servants, and surrounded by everything which made his earthly life enjoyable. One or two statues of him stand at the end of the room, in constant readiness to undergo the "Opening of the Mouth" and to receive offerings. Should these be accidentally removed, others, secreted in a little chamber hidden in the thickness of the masonry, are there to replace them. These inner chambers have rarely any external outlet, though occasionally they are connected with the chapel by a small opening, so narrow that it will hardly admit of a hand being passed through it. Those who came to repeat prayers and burn incense at this aperture were received by the dead in person. The statues were not mere images, devoid of consciousness. Just as the double of a god could be linked to an idol in the temple sanctuary in order to transform it into a prophetic being, capable of speech and movement, so when the double of a man was attached to the effigy of his earthly body, whether in stone, metal, or wood, a real living person was created and was introduced into the tomb. So strong was this conviction that the belief has lived on through two changes of religion until the present day. The double still haunts the statues with which he was associated in the past. As in former times, he yet strikes with madness or death any who dare to disturb his repose; and one can only be protected from him by breaking, at the moment of discovery, the perfect statues which the vault contains. The double is weakened or killed by the mutilation of these his sustainers.¨

 http://www.gutenberg.org/files/17322/17322-h/v2a.htm

Plan of the Villa of a Great Egyptian Noble

Image from projectgutenberg.org

It was by chance that I´ve found this depiction of the ¨plan of the villa of a great Egyptian noble¨, at project Gutenberg.org. This web site is amazing. It has 30000 books you can read on line, some of them can be downloaded. Most of those digital books are really old, I´m not sure if they have incunables.

The book where I took this great image is History of Egypt, Chaldea, Syria, Babylonia and Assyria. By G. Maspero, who is introduced as ¨Honorable Doctor of Civil Laws, and Fellow of Queen´s College, Oxford; Member of the Institute and Professor at the College of France¨. Edited by A. H. Sayce, professor of Assyriology, Oxford. The Grolier Society, London. I couldn´t find the date of publication.

This plan was taken from a Theban tomb of the XVIIIth dynasty. The text in the book related to this plan is the following:

¨It was there, doubtless, that Amten ended his days in peace and quietude of mind. The tableland wheron the Sphinx has watched for so many centuries was then crowned by no pyramids, but mastabas of fine white stone rose here and there from out of the sand: that in which the mummy of Amten was to be enclosed was situated not far from the modern village of Abusir, on the confines of the nome of the Haunch, and almost in sight of the mansion in which his declining years were spent. (Note: The site of Amten´s manorial mansion is nowhere mentioned in the inscriptions; but the custom of the Egyptians to construct their tombs as near as possible to the places where they resided, leads me to consider it as almost certain that we ought to look for its site in the Memphite plain, in the vicinity of the town of Abusir, but in a northern direction, so as to keep within the territory of the Letopolite nome, where Amten governed in the name of the king.)

The number of persons of obscure origin, who in this manner had risen in a few years to the highest honours, and died governors of provinces or ministers of Pharaoh, must have been considerable. Their descendants followed in their fathers' footsteps, until the day came when royal favour or an advantageous marriage secured them the possession of an hereditary fief, and transformed the son or grandson of a prosperous scribe into a feudal lord. It was from people of this class, and from the children of the Pharaoh, that the nobility was mostly recruited. In the Delta, where the authority of the Pharaoh was almost everywhere directly felt, the power of the nobility was weakened and much curtailed; in Middle Egypt it gained ground, and became stronger and stronger in proportion as one advanced southward. The nobles held the principalities of the Gazelle, of the Hare, of the Serpent Mountain, of Akhmîm, of Thinis, of Qasr-es-Sayad, of El-Kab, of Aswan, and doubtless others of which we shall some day discover the monuments.

They accepted without difficulty the fiction according to which Pharaoh claimed to be absolute master of the soil, and ceded to his subjects only the usufruct of their fiefs; but apart from the admission of the principle, each lord proclaimed himself sovereign in his own domain, and exercised in it, on a small scale, complete royal authority.

Everything within the limits of this petty state belonged to him—woods, canals, fields, even the desert-sand: after the example of the Pharaoh, he farmed a part himself, and let out the remainder, either in farms or as fiefs, to those of his followers who had gained his confidence or his friendship. After the example of Pharaoh, also, he was a priest, and exercised priestly functions in relation to all the gods—that is, not of all Egypt, but of all the deities of the nome. He was an administrator of civil and criminal law, received the complaints of his vassals and serfs at the gate of his palace, and against his decisions there was no appeal. He kept up a flotilla, and raised on his estate a small army, of which he was commander-in-chief by hereditary right. He inhabited a fortified mansion, situated sometimes within the capital of the principality itself, sometimes in its neighbourhood, and in which the arrangements of the royal city were reproduced on a smaller scale.

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/17322/17322-h/v2a.htm

La Casa Propia y la Casa Apropiada

La Mancha de Humedad. Photocollage de Myriam Mahiques

El filósofo Gastón Bachelard (1884-1962) nos dice en su libro ¨The Poetics of Space¨, que hay un viejo dicho, ¨llevamos nuestro hogar con nosotros¨, que contiene muchas interpretaciones. A través de los sueños, los lugares que habitamos en nuestras vidas retienen los tesoros de los días pasados. Nuestra vida es protegida en el pecho del Ser casa.

Siendo la casa de uno cuestión tan importante, no es de extrañar que uno de los primeros ejercicios en la facultad de arquitectura, se aplique a la vivienda del alumno. Luego, la cuestión reside en cómo alcanzar exitosamente el objetivo del ejercicio.

Trabajaba yo como dibujante en un Estudio, casi concluyendo mis estudios. Mi supervisor directo, era un arquitecto que había comenzado a dar clases como docente en la Universidad. Ese día, fue verlo emanar angustia, y comprender que algo andaba mal. Nos cuenta entonces, que la cátedra pidió a los ¨principiantes¨, analizar su propia casa desde el punto de vista del diseño.

Un alumno, expresa en sus dibujos grandes manchas: su vivienda tiene humedad y este problema familiar no lo deja visualizar la finalidad del ejercicio.

¨Mínimos¨ incidentes a lo largo de los años de carrera, hacen que nuestras propias casas pierdan el encanto de la niñez y descubramos que ya no es la casa apropiada.

Y ahí nomás, el docente inexperto lo increpa al adolescente, y le pregunta si no se da cuenta que la humedad es un problema técnico, pero si salta a la vista!, que la planta tiene problemas de diseño, porque la cocina esto, y la habitación lo otro, y cómo es que no lo ha notado?

No fue posible retroceder en el tiempo. El velo se había caído no en los seis años que dan lugar a que el alumno madure, sino en cinco minutos de una corrección. No hubo tiempo de enseñarle, que además, puede aprender de Gastón Bachelard (necesitaría diez o quince años más para dar con su libro); o que también se habla de una estética de la humedad y las ruinas, que es parte del digno envejecer de los edificios. Tampoco hubo posibilidad de pararlo en los pasillos y al menos darle un pañuelo para que se limpie la cara.

El afamado filósofo sostiene que todo lo que intentamos comunicar a otros, es una orientación hacia lo que es secreto, aunque no lleguemos a expresar estos secretos objetivamente.

Personalization of the sick city of London in Daniel Defoe’s words

Illustration of the city of London and the plague. From http://www.learningcurve.gov.uk/images/great-plague/plague-illustration.jpg

I came across with this book, and though it does not have the psychological sense and spirituality of The Plague by Albert Camus, the story is interesting, considering it  has a remarkable fabric that gathers fact and imagination.

In the prologue, Maynadier says that the Journal is probably the writer’s own recollection. It seems to have been established that Daniel Defoe (1659-1731) was five or six years old during the Plague Year, instead of four as has been previously supposed, and therefore of an age to receive a pretty distinct impression of the gloom which overspread the city. During the next years of his childhood, he would naturally hear from the city people of his acquaintance many a tale of the pestilence, the most appalling experience they had known. The plague that stroke England in 1665, was the same disease that more than three hundred years before, drove Boccaccio’s gay Florentines to the villa where the stories of the Decameron were told. The spots on the skin were formerly common tokens of the disease. Another symptoms are fever, vomiting, the frightful aches and pains, the swellings or buboes in the neck, armpit, or groin. Rats are supposed to be carriers of the pestilence.

The text I reproduce below, is Defoe’s reflection of how he feels or understands the city. Here, we see the personalization he makes of it, London is a suffering haptic city, it  has a face, composed by all the faces of the citizens that express the anguish, that is also shown in the public buildings, in the closed houses. There is no way we can imagine the sick physical city separated from its inhabitants.

Mural at the Eyam Museum. From http://www.eyammuseum.demon.co.uk/mural.jpg

A tear sheet from a newspaper. From http://faculty.up.edu/asarnow/images/MUTABIL2.GIF

 “The face of London was now indeed strangely altered, I mean the whole mass of buildings, city, liberties, suburbs, Westminster, Southwark, and altogether; for as to the particular part called the city, or within the walls, that was not yet much infected. But in the whole the face of things, I say, was much altered; sorrow and sadness sat upon every face; and though some parts were not yet overwhelmed, yet all looked deeply concerned; and as we saw it apparently coming on, so every one looked on himself and his family as in the utmost danger. Were it possible to represent those times exactly to those that did not see them, and give the reader due ideas of the horror that everywhere presented itself, it must make just impressions upon their minds and fill them with surprise. London might well be said to be all in tears; the mourners did not go about the streets indeed, for nobody put on black or made a formal dress of mourning for their nearest friends; but the voice of mourning was truly heard in the streets.”

REFERENCE

Daniel Defoe, Howard Maynadier. The works of Daniel Defoe. Volume 9. A Journal of the Plague Year. Written by a citizen who continued all the while in London.

Department of English, Harvard University. Thomas Y. Crowell and Co. Publishers. New York. Copyright 1904 by the University Press.
Read more about Los Angeles plague in 1924:
http://myriammahiques.blogspot.com/2009/10/urban-consequences-of-1924-plague-in.html