The Tanager Blog

Morning is consistently my favorite time of day in an old city. Things are tranquil, the light gives life to the walls and there is a persistent, timeless quality to the streets. Who knows how many stories have unfolded on the cobblestones, or how many times the scenes playing out before you happen every day.

From a photography standpoint, there’s nothing better than working with low, brilliant natural light in the early morning. The ordinary suddenly has a pulse, an undeniable and mysterious beauty you can’t easily peg. On Calle Cuadrante, an elderly shopkeeper swept the sidewalk and generated a fantastic, Pigpen-like dust cloud. The dust never seemed to be gone, and she kept at it tirelessly. The next day, another shopkeeper was doing the same thing at the same spot, only to give up and take a hose to it.

After breakfast on Thursday, Hailey and I walked down Calle Zacateros to the Instituto Allende, San Miguel’s world renowned art school. Situated in an old, Spanish-style mansion, the school was founded in 1951 by Felipe Cossío del Pomar, an exiled Peruvian painter, political activist and friend of Diego Rivera. From the beginning, the school was popular with Americans, particularly veterans of World War II who were stretching their G.I. Bill dollars in the quaint Mexican city.

On this day, the school’s central courtyard was a refuge for a handful of chirping warblers as well as a man who was threading a wicker seat together. We found a cushioned spot at the cafe and watched him as he squinted and patiently weaved his needle in and out, and back and forth. A romantic notion crept into our conversation involving the words “sabatical,” “studying” and “photography.” Why these types of ideas seem permanently stuck in neutral is beyond me.

Moments later, we met an artist who seemed to have no problem with her impulse’s gearbox. Tjitske Schuurman (she went by “Paloma”) had moved to San Miguel de Allende — site unseen — from British Colombia on the advice of a psychic, and was now crafting leafy sculptures and jewelery at the institute. Using a method of casting leaves out of concrete, her work was delicate and fantastically rich with detail. Had it not been for one necklace — a trio of golden leafs set on a silk choker — we may have made it back from San Miguel de Allende without an impulse buy. But considering how it looked on Hailey, how it made her feel, and how convincing Paloma was in her salesmanship… well, recession be damned. You have to live a little.