Methodological approaches

In architecture, typological³ analysis has been used for two main purposes: as a projectual foundation-this was the case for the nineteen seventies postmodern architects-and as a historio graphic tool, to explain the authors’ compositional decisions that led them to stick to certain traditional solutions, or, for reasons which historiography could unravel, to consciously move away from typological constraints. The latter perspective will be the methodological line followed in this text: first, the existence of typological solutions in this architectural subgenre will be confirmed; then, a case study that deviated from this repetitive inertia will be presented; and, finally, we will inquire and speculate, in a heuristic manner, in order to propose a possible explanation of this singular case. Much has been written, for over a century, by prominent historians⁴ on the history of life on New Spain’s female convents; however, few Latin American scholars-such as Argentinian Marina Waisman⁵-have opted for a projectual analysis with a typological perspective allowing speculation regarding the reasons which led their authors to replicate some of the design solutions. This is, therefore, the path we shall follow to propose Arrieta’s motives in designing a structure so far removed from inherited typologies.

State of the art and research questions

Most available texts that address Corpus Christi’s architectural design describe its historical, stylistic⁶ and spatial characteristics without speculating on the possible causes behind its atypicality. For example, it’s striking that Josefina Muriel, in her monumental research on Las Indias Caciques de Corpus Christi (Corpus Christi’s Indigenous Chieftesses, 1963), even though describing the sober facade’s measurements and its iconographic elements, the pictorial trousseaus and interior tribunes as well as the rest of the adjacent conventual area, only mentions the original ceiling regarding the peculiarity of the temple: “It should be noted that master Pedro de Arrieta did not exactly fulfill the construction contract, since he made numerous innovations, among them the building of a wooden vault [...]” (^{Muriel, 1963, p. 52})⁷, without clarifying whether these innovations included the exceptional entrance at the foot of the temple or the absence of paired doorways for a monastic temple. On the other hand, Concepción Amerlinck and Manuel Ramos, in their thorough study on nun convents (Los conventos de monjas [The Nunneries], 1995), dedicate a chapter to Corpus Christi convent and provide invaluable data on the eventful creation process, management, foundation and construction (^{Amerlinck & Ramos, 1995, pp. 122-123}) as well as about the fact that, after two decades, the space available for the parishioners on the first floor was already insufficient and the replacement of a second ceiling was necessary, but they don’t underline the temple floor plan’s atypical nature, nor do they venture a proposal to explain it, which is understandable given that the purpose of their study was historical and not architectural. Some years later, Muriel, in one of the chapters of a collective book celebrating the recovery and restoration of the temple and its re-designation as a cultural space and seat of the Archive of Notaries, in which he delves into its construction history, documents that in 1729 it was “enlarged” six varas forward (16.5 ft) (2006b, p. 102), a transformation that increased confusion on the matter, since the inherited building has always had its facade facing the street, as attested by several colonial paintings and 19th lithographs illustrating the straight edge facing south of the alameda. In that same collective publication, Carlos Martínez Ortigoza’s chapter, on the restoration and safeguarding of that convent for indigenous people, exposes the monastic buildings’ common characteristics and highlights both their atypicality and the fact that the Capuchin temples used to place the low choir to the side of the altar (^{Martínez, 2006, pp. 233-234}), as indeed happened with Corpus Christi, and that would explain why the sotocoro (place under the high choir) was used to enter the temple, but not the lack of two twin portals or a bell tower.

In the absence of projectual explanations regarding its atypicality, one might ask: what was the reason for such a singular composition? Was it the gradual abandonment of typological solutions by the construction guilds in New Spain? Was Arrieta aware of his abandonment of typological traditions in the Corpus Christi temple, or did he do it under Franciscan indications, on whom the future foundation would depend? How was it possible for the authorities to consent to this peculiar design? And was it influenced by the unusual process of being built before receiving royal authorization? Should its exceptionality be interpreted as an indigenist vindication or, on the contrary, as a discriminatory gesture? In order to answer some of these questions, the following path will be taken: first, a historical introduction on the convents built in the capital of the New Spain Viceroyalty will be presented; then we shall proceed to the typological analysis, examining what extent the 17 convent foundations before Corpus Christi temple complied with the identified variables, contrasting the facts with the latter’s atypicality, in order to develop a projectual hypothesis; then, we’ll review the convent’s singularities, its ascription and foundational process, and finally, we’ll evoke Arrieta’s professional development, the commissioning and the temple’s characteristics, to propose a plausible explanation for the singularity that characterizes the process and the building.

Nun convents in New Spain

Since the first viceroyal century, Christian education of indigenous women was considered indispensable for religious consolidation and perpetuation of social stability. Gradually, schools for indigenous girls and young women were founded-in addition to those for Spaniards, creoles and mixed-race people-, an area studied by specialists such as ^{Josefina Muriel (1946}, ¹⁹⁶³, ^2006b) and ^{Concepción Amerlinck/Manuel Ramos (1995)}. However, during the first two colonial centuries, there was no institutional option regarding religious life for indigenous women, unlike Spanish and creole women, who, rich or poor, could choose the novitiate and eventually profess as veiled and choral nuns in the numerous convents established⁸. During the Novo-Hispanic Viceroyalty, 21 convents were founded in the capital⁹, belonging to various female orders¹⁰, most of them with temples using the same architectural party¹¹ solution: a single double-height nave, its hierarchical axis parallel to the access street, absence of an atrium at the foot of the temple, two main entrances located laterally to the nave-which allowed placing a low choir at the foot of the temple-and a single bell tower; management processes and conventual conformation were also similar: A sponsor was proposed, permission was requested and, once obtained, work began on the adaptation of donated houses, to later select the founding nuns-sometimes from Spain and sometimes Creole or Spanish settlers-. If the construction was not yet finished, they were housed-for months or even years-in convents with analogous rules. Upon construction completion, the convent was dedicated to nuns and novices who had paid their dowry and thus occupied it to begin their cloistered life together (this was the usual process, and it is worth emphasizing for when we discuss Corpus Christi’s unusual management and construction). When, in 1720, Pedro de Arrieta built Corpus Christi, there were seventeen formally established convents (García, p. 25) which we will take as typological antecedents¹²; eight were Conceptionist: La Concepción¹³-the first of all, built at the initiative of Juan de Zumárraga-, La Natividad de Nuestra Señora y Regina Coeli,¹⁴ Nuestra Señora de Balvanera,¹⁵ Real Convento de Jesús María,¹⁶ La Encarnación,¹⁷ Santa Inés Virgen y Mártir,¹⁸ San José de Gracia¹⁹ and El Dulce Nombre de María y Padre San Bernardo²⁰; Dominicans had one: Santa Catalina de Siena;²¹ The Discalced Carmelites, two: San José²²-known as Santa Teresa “the Ancient”, the name that we’ll use from now on-, and Santa Teresa “the New”, built by Pedro de Arrieta in 1704;³³ Hieronymites had two: Nuestra Señora de la Expectación-better known as San Jerónimo²⁴-and San Lorenzo,²⁵ plus four more, ascribed to the Franciscan order, of which three were of Urbanist Poor Clares:²⁶ San Juan de la Penitencia,²⁷ Santa Clara²⁸ and La Visitación de Nuestra Señora a Santa Isabel,²⁹ and one, of the Capuchin nuns,³⁰ consecrated to the then Blessed Felipe de Jesús.³¹

The typological tool

Francisco de la Maza was one of the specialists who analyzed the temples and their monastic choirs to identify recurring morphological characteristics:

The temple had to be public [...] that is, open to the people so they could attend all the ceremonies that were there celebrated, but the enclosure of the convent, which secluded the nuns in a private world, demanded the temple be built in such a way that, allowing free access to the people, could also serve the nuns without them being disturbed in their confinement. The solution is perfect: a single-nave temple is built occupying less space and its main axis is laid out parallel to the public road [...] [ ^{De la Maza, 1983, p. 9}].

These dispositions were compiled within most conventual temples, although there were exceptions, generally due to the random expansion of the complexes. Precisely, the present analysis will answer to what extent the seventeen convents built prior to Corpus Christi³² complied or not, and to do so we will employ five typological architectural variables.

5. Bell tower layout

Another essential presence in Catholic temples were the bells, as their sound was used to call the parishioners⁴⁴ both in parishes and in male convents.⁴⁵ In the female convent temples, only one bell tower was installed, located on the main facade-the one with the two twin portals-, near the choirs, at the opposite end of the dome and the presbytery. These were structurally very heavy elements -they served as a counterweight to the lateral thrust of the choir vaults-, with a predominance of the massif over the span-only with small windows-, which sometimes caused them to collapse, due to gradual inclination or to earthquakes. Of the seventeen convents analyzed (^{Tovar, 1990}), the bell towers were a volume superimposed on the facade of the nave in eleven temples,⁴⁶ in three,⁴⁷ they were embedded into the complex mass, one more with a bell-gable,⁴⁸ while in the remaining two it hasn’t been possible to identify the belfry element.⁴⁹ This brief analysis allows us to conclude that in most of the temples these five typological variables were met, although only two Conceptionist convents include all five variables: Balvanera and Santa Inés⁵⁰ (Figures 2 and 3).

(Drawing: Rafael Mancilla Walles, 2021)

FIGURES 2 and 3. Typological diagrams of the temple’s floor plans for the convents of Balvanera and Santa Inés. 

Corpus Christi’s temple atypicality

The repetition of these variables in the convents previously analyzed highlights the atypical nature of Corpus Christi temple, because, despite covering a similar architectural program, it did not reproduce the same solutions, which is even more remarkable if we remember that the same author designed the whole structure. Thus, of the five variables we find that, in the layout of this temple’s nave, the altar was placed southwards-despite the fact that it has a good front facing the alameda-and its only parallel nave was not placed on the most important street; the temple’s main entrance had a single doorway at its foot, that is, covering the Epistle and the Gospel, and, exceptionally, this doorway included a portal with three open bays on the first floor⁵¹ (Figure 4).

(Drawing: Rafael Mancilla Walles, 2021)

FIGURE 4 Typological scheme of the temple’s floor plan of Corpus Christi. 

Regarding the high and low choirs’ layout, the architect placed only one choral space above the entrance-as it would happen in a parish or a male convent temple-, while he placed the low choir next to the altar, a solution similar to the one used in Capuchin temples⁵²; the atrium also had no setback, something unnecessary given the proximity of the alameda and Calvario Street, which was lined with the Way of the Cross (^{Robin, 2014}), and as for the bell tower, Arrieta did not include one either: instead-as attested by the construction contract-(^{Rocha, 2006, pp. 147-152}), he placed a small belfry above the choir window, at the top of the main pediment, which years later was transformed into a niche.

In view of this discrepancy accumulation, one might wonder about the reasons that led Arrieta to a proposal so far removed from tradition. One possibility is that the remoteness of the convent, practically in the western indigenous neighborhoods, allowed him greater design freedom; however, this hypothesis would be invalidated by the fact that the Urbanist Poor Clares of San Juan de la Penitencia’s temple, in the same indigenous neighborhood, did comply with the typology. A secondary explanation could be that it was due to the alameda’s urban hierarchy, that is, that Arrieta had designed a different facade, given the location of the site; however, this hypothesis would be nullified by the fact that the Poor Clares of Santa Isabel’s temple closed the alameda to the east and its main facade-toward San Juan de Letran-turned its back to the tree-lined space. A third assumption would involve showing that the exceptionality of the temple derives from the indigenous singularity of its population, something that could be interpreted in two ways: as a vindication of native peoples’⁵³ value or, on the contrary, as a disparagement towards them⁵⁴, since they “did not deserve” a facade equal to that of the convents for the Creoles and Spaniards.⁵⁵ Finally, a fourth possibility could be ventured that arose when considering the professional dynamics of New Spain architects, whose workshops and guilds were forced to the ups and downs of the decisions of powerful clients, changes in budgets, ecclesial struggles, and political transformations, as we proposed below.

A flexible project hypothesis

These atypical characteristics cannot be considered a fortuitous or thoughtless fact, mainly because they came from an experienced master builder like Arrieta, who had already built the temple and cloister of Santa Teresa la Nueva for the Discalced Carmelites, which complied with most of the typological variables, except for its altar, facing south, and its two doorways with very small variations. So, what could have happened? In response, we here propose a hypothesis that, although cannot be proven based on the available documents, would eventually shed light on a different interpretation of a unique construction: the uncertainty of royal authorization for a convent for indigenous people led the Marquis of Valero and Arrieta himself to conceive of a flexible temple so that, in case of authorization was refused, it could be used by the Franciscans.

Religious ascription and unusual foundation

The new convent for indigenous women was ascribed to the first rule of Santa Clara, a branch that at that time did not yet exist in the Novo-Hispanic capital (^{Rocha, 2004}). It should be recalled that, in addition to the ascription and obedience to an ecclesiastical power-regular or diocesan-, women’s convents⁵⁶ were subject to a specific⁵⁷ rule (^{Muriel, 1946})-a normative instrument that regulated the community’s life, traditionally instituted by the founder or foundress. These ascriptions become relevant to specify the normative niche of the Corpus Christi convent, since there are authors who have erroneously identified it (^{García, 1908}) as Capuchin, perhaps because it had a low choir near the altar: normatively, they did have differences in their way of life, such as fasting, as well as their own constitutions (^{Hernández, 2017}). It should be noted that the mendicant order of Assisi had several subsequent reforms, each with modifications to the rule, which integrated a panorama of Franciscan communities,⁵⁸ some of which reached New Spain and some of which did not. The original feminine branch arose with the sisters Clara and Inés Sciffo, aristocrats from Urbino, who were captivated by Francis’ preaching. At first, they were welcomed in a Benedictine convent, until they were assigned the convent of San Damiano-that is why they were first known as Damianists-and founded, in 1212-the papal confirmation of Innocent IV would not arrive until 1253-, the order of Poor Clares of the first rule, with a requirement of absolute poverty and proscription of possessing goods (mendicant Poor Clares).

With the order’s rapid growth, Poor Clares who were unhappy with not possessing any goods arose, which led to a request for reform, which was authorized in 1263 by Pope Urban VI, and from then on, they became known as Urban Poor Clares. Almost three centuries later, in 1538, the Italian noblewoman Maria Laurencia Longo-or Longia-proposed in Naples to return to the original rule of St. Clare, which gave rise to the Discalced Capuchin nuns. These variants settled in Spain during the 16th century and undertook the foundation of female Franciscan convents (^{Muriel, 1946}) in the conquered territories: the Urbanist Poor Clares, following the reformed rule; the Capuchins, reinstated, and the Poor Clares, adhering to the first rule.

When Corpus Christi was founded, at the beginning of the 18th century, there were already three convents for Urbanist Poor Clares⁵⁹ and one, dedicated to Blessed Felipe de Jesus, for Ca puchin nuns reinstated to the original rule, but there was no foundation for Poor Clares of the first rule. It was proposed that this would then become the ascription of the future convent for indigenous nuns,⁶⁰ although they would share the same original rule with Capuchin nuns. History recognizes the viceroy Baltasar de Zúñiga y Guzmán Sotomayor y Mendoza marquis of Valero (1658-1727)⁶¹ as the main promoter of its foundation, but recent research (such as ^{Rocha, 2014, pp. 209, 214-215 and 220}) has shown that the idea, not in terms of its indigenous composition, but in the ascription to the Poor Clares of the first rule, had begun germinating years earlier.⁶² It was taken up by the Marquis of Valero, who added the indigenous composition and decided to act as benefactor and manager to obtain royal authorization. In 1720 he wrote to Philip V, King of Spain,⁶³ followed by letters of support (^{Muriel, 2006b, p. 44}) from the Mexican archbishop and the Franciscan provisor of the Holy Evangelic Province, the ecclesiastical sector on which the future foundation would depend: the Marquis seemed to be sure the innovative foundation would be granted (^{García, 1908}), as he proposed it to be self-sufficient⁶⁴, so, still without royal authorization, he decided to reverse the usual process: first he bought, for 40,000 pesos, a plot of land on Calvario Street and immediately entrusted the project and construction to Arrieta. The acquired plot was located, as noted above, outside the city layout, in the old indigenous neighborhoods (^{Guerrero, 2014}). The Marquis appointed Juan Gutiérrez Rubín de Celis to represent him in the land purchase and in construction management through the building contract signed in 1720 with Pedro de Arrieta. In fact, the architectural project of the convent of the nuns of the Discalced Saint Francis would share similar solutions with Capuchin temples:

The mentioned Pedro de Arrieta must install a small grille in the lower choir and another in the upper choir, in the same measurements and size as those of the Capuchin Mothers of this city. And likewise, the temple is to be roofed with beams and the choir loft in the same manner. And the floor of said choir that falls to the portal will be of an extended groin vault for greater security [^{Rocha, 2006, p. 142}].

Once the project was approved and the resources were available, the temple and cloister were finished in only eight construction months: from February to September 1720;⁶⁵ however, it couldn’t be occupied, because the royal authorization process had been stopped, largely due to the fierce Jesuit opposition. Finally, the Marquis left the viceroyal post in 1722, as Philip V had ap pointed him president of the Royal Council of the Indies and returned to Spain without giving the building to the future indigenous Poor Clares (^{Rocha, 2004}). Two years later, on January 14, 1724, that monarch abdicated in favor of his son Luis I-who would have a very brief reign-, a circumstance that the Marquis took advantage of politically to convince the ephemeral king about the goodness of the indigenous foundation, a grace that he granted on March 5, 1724 to the cheerful delight of those who supported the cause and, surely, of Arrieta himself, since, after four years of having designed and finished the building, it was still unoccupied. The successor of the Marquis of Valero, the new viceroy Juan de Acuña y Manrique Marquis of Casa Fuerte, complied with the royal wish and issued a decree the following June 25 (^{Rocha, 2006, p. 137}). The temple was dedicated on that year’s Corpus Thursday,⁶⁶ so that it could be occupied in July by the first four Spanish founding nuns⁶⁷ (^{Rocha, 2004})-the indigenous ones were still novices-: two from San Juan de la Penitencia convent,⁶⁸ one from Santa Isabel and another from Santa Clara (^{Rocha, 2014}). After the dedication ceremony, the first noble maidens, daughters of chiefs or chiefesses, descendants of the ancient pipiltin, jubilantly entered the convent; they were part of an estate that, within the viceroyal structure, still held governmental, judicial and fiscal functions, even if they were women, as proven by Josefina Muriel (^{Muriel, 2006, p. 31}). Shortly after, in December of that same year, with great sorrow among the grateful Poor Clares of the First Rule, the benefactor died in Spain. His heart was sent to New Spain the following year, at the express request of the Marquis himself, to rest near the presbytery⁶⁹, below the craticle⁷⁰, in a lead reliquary (^{Guerrero, 2014}). To summarize, buying the land and erecting the construction before having royal approval shows how unusual the process of founding Corpus Christi was, and would explain, especially if one considers that its protagonist was not a dilettante when he was commissioned-he had carried out many religious works, including a convent for nuns-, some of its atypical characteristics since they could not be attributed to improvisation.

Arrieta’s experience

^{Martha Fernández (1992, p. 29 ff.)} provides information about Pedro de Arrieta’s life and professional career: he was native to Real de Minas de Pachuca, capital of the modern state of Hidalgo, and married Melchora de Robles but had no descendants; during his productive years he had a comfortable economic position, as he owned several houses. His life as an independent professional began on June 12, 1691, with his guild examination (^{Cortés, 2011}). In 1695 he was appointed senior master of the Holy Tribunal of the Holy Office (^{Fernández, 1992, p. 42}) and in 1720 he was appointed senior master of the Palace of Viceroys and the Cathedral of Mexico, which reflects professional recognition of the viceroyal power and the diocesan clergy. By 1720⁷¹, when he undertook the project and construction of the future convent for indigenous nobles, Arrieta had solid experience in conventual works for the Conceptionists and the Carmelites⁷² as well as with the Dominicans,⁷³ as he had made a lateral altarpiece for the Holy Office in the Audience Hall (1718) and other hospital structures⁷⁴ (Figures 5, 6 and 7).

(Photographs: Ivan San Martín, January 2005, December 2004, and September 2020 respectively)

FIGURES 5, 6 and 7.  Temple of the Professed House of the Jesuits, Santa Teresa "la Nueva” convent and Ánimas del Purgatorio chapel, three works by Pedro de Arrieta made before and during the commissioning of Corpus Christi convent. 

He had built the Casa Profesa temple for the Jesuits (1714-1720), located in one of the city’ s most centric streets, whereas for the diocesan clergy, he had contributed to the Seminario de la Catedral Novohispana School, located to the east and now gone, in addition to the famous Collegiate Temple of Guadalupe (1695-1709) with a basilical floor plan⁷⁵ in the then town of La Villa, while between 1720 and 1721 he undertook the Chapel of Las Ánimas, a discreet structure attached to the back of the Cathedral (^{Fernández, 1992}). He also had undertaken public projects⁷⁶ and private houses⁷⁷ (^{Berlin, 1945/1967, p. 376}), and after Corpus Christi he would go on to complete other large commissions falling outside the scope of this paper⁷⁸, but which attest to his mastery of a vast body of work, a fact which contrasts with his economically straitened death (^{Fernandez, 1992, pp. 148-150}).

Corpus Christi’s temple characteristics

The documents between Arrieta and the Marquis’ representative (the 1720 contract and the two reports dated September 1727)⁷⁹ provide many details regarding the physical and functional features found in Corpus Christi (^{Rocha, 2006}). The temple had a single nave, with the altar facing south, measuring 12 varas wide by 24 in length (33 x 66 ft), with a sloping wooden gabled roof-its parallel on the facade was the upper pediment silhouette-, which in its lower part incorporated a false vault, also, as narrated in the same contractual document, made of wood; both were later replaced by a brick vault (Figure 8).

(Photograph: Ivan San Martín, April 2019)

FIGURE 8 Temple portal at Corpus Christi convent. 

It was accessed through a three-arched portal protected by iron bars, the one in the center with a bolt-currently with wooden doors-, as a vestibule for the parlor door on one side, the access to the porter’s lodge at the other end, while the entrance to the nave was located in the center: “the door to the temple must be three varas wide and six varas high (8.25 x 16.5 ft.). And the ornamentation of said door must be Doric with architraves, frieze and cornice, and its frontispiece below the vault” (^{Rocha, 2006, p. 144}). The second section of the doorway housed the central relief for the Body of Christ’s custody, to which the convent was dedicated, and on the sides, “two coats of arms of His Excellency the Marquis of Valero, crowned with the bell tower” (^{Rocha, 2006, p. 150}), while an inscription placed in 1729 protested its indigenous racial composition⁸⁰ (^{Martínez, 2006a, p. 236}) (Figure 9).

(Photograph: Ivan San Martín, April 2019)

FIGURE 9 Temple portal at Corpus Christi convent and detail of the inscription indicating indigenous exclusivity. 

At the foot of the nave, above the wide portal, the high choir and two tribunes at its ends were placed: boxes for the physically disabled nuns, while the low choir was on the first floor, but at the opposite end, on one side of the presbytery, protected with a tin railing and counter-railing, just above the crypt and the ossuary⁸¹. There were also the craticle, two confessionals drilled into the wall which separated it from the cloister and a regular door, used to allow the new members⁸² to enter the cloister located to the east.⁸³

It should be noted that, once the building was handed over, there were complaints from the nuns to the architect, which motivated the two acknowledgments that finally ended in the architect’s favor⁸⁴. In fact, in June 1729, while Arrieta was still alive, there was an “enlargement of six varas (16.5 ft) to the temple”, a transformation that has raised some doubts, since the facade that exists today is indeed Arrieta’s original, as can be seen in the paintings of the time. The nave was indeed enlarged, and this is confirmed because the exact measurements of the original temple prior to the enlargement are known; they are indicated in the September 30, 1727, report written by the master architect Don Antonio Álvarez: “The temple is 12 varas wide and 24 in length [...]” (^{Rocha, 2006, p. 150}). In fact, the present temple is, in its equivalence in meters, 30 varas⁸⁵, that is, precisely six more, due to the enlargement in 1729. Thus, at least four hypotheses are possible: the first is that it would have been enlarged to the north, but this would have implied the facade’s demolition and a new body would protrude from the wall by 6 varas, which is improbable given that the current volume is always depicted in the paintings and urban plans of the eighteenth century. The second, that it would have had a narrow atrium in front, towards which the temple would have been enlarged, with the consequent assembly and disassembly of the facade, as occurred within other viceroyal instances⁸⁶, although this would imply that the original temple would have been recessed, a situation that is not described in the 1720 contract, nor does it appear in any urban plan or old engraving. A third hypothesis, presented by specialists ^{Enrique Tovar and Itzel Landa (2007, p. 19)}, is that the enlargement would have been made to the south, extending the presbytery by 6 varas over the burial chamber. The fourth hypothesis is the one we now present, based on the description in the Gacetas de México of that enlargement in 1729:

Give six more varas of length to this polished temple, and although great care has been taken by the masters, in the midpoint that the choir is to receive, it is still feared that once the wall that serves as formwork is removed, the vault will have a notable impression, but it is certain that once these tasks are happily achieved, it will have sufficient capacity, beauty and splendor [Sahagún, quoted by ^{Tovar & Landa, 2007, p. 19}].

The above fragment expresses concern about the removal of a wall that “served as a formwork” for a vault, a circumstance we interpret as a dividing wall that originally separated the portal from the nave’s interior, as described in the 1720 contract, and which would explain why it was believed to help support it. Our project hypothesis would propose that the nave was indeed “enlarged” within the physical limits of the interior of the nave, but without modifying its exterior. By redrawing the floor plan with this wall, we found that, in accordance with what was noted in the September 30, 1727 report, the nave’s interior was 24 varas (66 ft.), plus 6 varas (16.5 ft.) from the former portal, i.e., that added together would result in the current 30 varas (82.5 ft.), as can be observed in our reconstruction (Figures 10 and 11).

(Drawing: Ivan San Martín and Verónica Orozco, September 2020, based on the drawing by Rafael Mancilla Walles, 2020)

FIGURE 10 Plan reconstruction of the original temple based on the hypothesis based on the enlargement of the interior space of the nave without altering the exterior measurements. The portal and the dividing wall for the entrance to the nave are notorious when the nave was 24 varas (66 ft.) long in its interior and 6 varas (16.5 ft.) longer than the portal. 

(Drawing: Ivan San Martín and Verónica Orozco, 2021)

FIGURE 11 Hypothetical reconstruction of the original temple facade upon Arrieta’s completion. Note the slenderness of the front of the volume of the single nave, which was lost when a parapet was inserted over the lower bodies. 

By 1740, after Arrieta had passed away, the wooden roof of the temple was replaced with vaults-a terrible decision for the building’s stability-by Fray Juan de Dios de Rivera, the convent’s vicar and the man responsible for the construction, who apparently had limited knowledge regarding structural behavior. The original double wooden roof was undoubtedly lighter, and its load shifted vertically along the walls, while the brick vault implied greater weight and incorporated lateral thrusts that required more mass to contain them. On the east side, there was no problem, since the cloister helped the efforts, but on the west side, several buttresses had to be inserted: two upper buttresses, flanking the nave, and some still existent buttress arches, to counteract the thrusts, which evidences the poor intervention even at that time. The vault insertion also gave the facade a slightly higher profile than the existing front, so to make up for the difference, a triangular wall had to be built, to this day visible, which ends at the upper bell tower, thus tarnishing Arrieta’s pristine composition (Figure 12).

(Photograph: Ivan San Martín, April 2019)

FIGURE 12 Buttresses on the west wall of the vault inserted in 1740, a bad decision made by Fray Juan de Dios de Rivera shortly after Pedro de Arrieta’s death. 

A flexible project argument

From the actions he undertook, it’s evident that the Marquis was convinced of the relevance of the indigenous foundation since he had sent the request in 1720; however, King Philip V showed no signs of a prompt solution, and the matter became distended. He knew that his position as viceroy wouldn’t last many years, so he had to hurry to get the future building ready, even without royal authorization. Therefore, he decided to commission Arrieta to build a temple with a flexible solution that would serve for the future indigenous nuns, if authorized, but also for a convent for men, probably Franciscan, given the proximity of several institutions of that order,⁸⁷ in case the longed-for authorization wasn’t granted. Thus, Don Pedro, a master builder with ample experience and an innovative spirit, accepted the challenge: a single-nave temple with its cloister facing east-a beneficial orientation for a residential area- could serve both men and women. First, he decided not to arrange the nave parallel to the street, nor to install twin doorways, as this would necessarily have restricted it to a women’s temple, so he decided to place it perpendicular to the alameda, directing the altar to the south, as he had already done in Santa Teresa la Nueva, and to place the entrance at the foot of the temple, as would be the case in a Franciscan or Carmelite temple. The im mediate consequence would have been to enter through the foot of the temple, which would have been an impediment if Arrieta, on the grounds that the future foundation was to be ascribed to the first rule of St. Clare-like the Capuchin nuns-had not foreseen placing the low choir next to the presbytery⁸⁸ and leaving a large high choir above the entrance portal, also functional for the temple of a regular men’s convent. Finally, the front doorway’s compositional problem required that the same entrance be used both for the parishioners of the world and for service access, in the parlor and the porter’s lodge, which would have detracted from the front doorway’s design. The solution was masterful: a portal imbued in the facade wall would serve as a vestibule for these three entrances: the lateral ones for the service and the main one to enter the nave, with its door tucked under the upper choir. Lastly, given the future assignment’s vagueness, Arrieta decided not to include a bell tower, but rather install a small upper belfry in its place (in any case, if two towers were required flanking the facade, they could be placed over the parlor and the porter’s lodge).⁸⁹ As has been pointed out, the Marquis left the Viceroyalty in 1722 without yet handing over the already completed building, but with the hope of successfully completing the negotiations from the Peninsula, so, as the benefactor of the project, he decided to delay its delivery. Thus, once the foundation was authorized in 1724, the founding nuns and the future novices moved into their building four years after its completion, a sufficiently flexible project thanks to a Marquis’ foresight and an architect’s genius.

Final remarks

The establishment of a typology has highlighted the exceptional nature of a conventual work carried out by an experienced author, who would not have made improvised design decisions, so it’s plausible that he conceived a design that, in accordance with an uncertain fate, was extremely flexible, as was the case with the usual processes of clients, authors and viceroyal guilds, when houses and palaces changed their use, regular convents passed into diocesan hands or religious houses and retreat houses ended up being future female convents’ seed. Unfortunately, there are no more professional documents available from Arrieta to confirm this hypothesis’ validity, but such an interpretation would explain the temple’s atypical characteristics.

Typological studies should serve not only to verify compliance with the model but also to identify those works that deviate from it and, mainly, to explore the possible causes of this exceptional condition heuristically. Identifying the atypical nature of the temple in question and speculating about its possible causes would have also allowed authorities in 2002-2003 to face the intervention of the viceroyal heritage that threatened ruin⁹⁰ in a different way, since they could have left the imbued portal designed by Arrieta prior to the “interior enlargement”, which would have caused a shading on the first floor and a greater lightness to the beautiful upper doorway. In the same way, since the temple is part of the Plaza Juárez urban project,⁹¹ the spatial environment could have been designed differently, for example, in its eastern zone, with architectural elements that evoke the old cloister structure and only freeing the western area to commemorate the old alley, interventions that would have been plausible if a typological analysis had been applied to this great viceroyal construction, in front of which centuries later, perhaps as a macabre joke of destiny, the hemicycle to Benito Juárez was built, that Zapotec who promoted the exclaustration of the first indigenous wives that Christ had in Hispanic America (Figure 9).