At the height of the 2008 housing crisis, 46 high-rise construction projects were abandoned from Tijuana to Ensenada. The Coastal Corridor of Tijuana, Rosarito and Ensenada (COCOTREN) is a chain of proposed developments along a 90-mile stretch of Baja's coast.
'46 Renacimientos' Día de Muertos event
🗓️ On view noon to 5 p.m. Saturday, Nov. 2, 2024
📍 BLK Box Gallery, 195 Virginia Ave., San Ysidro
🎟️ Free
Architectural artist Alvaro Alvarez says the developments were meant to bring pride to the Baja region and provide affordable luxury housing for Americans. It was pitched as the largest development in the region, designed to attract foreign investors and banks to fund the projects.
"Three billion US dollars in sales, 12,500 homes, 65,000 jobs, and it all became halted because of the financial crash .… So for 15 years they've been sitting on the beach as concrete and steel skeletons," Alvarez said, citing his research.
Alvarez immortalized those “skeletons” through art, creating sculptural paintings to honor each abandoned building. The project, titled "46 Renacimientos," doesn't have an ideal translation into English, Alvarez says, but likens it to "revivals" or "rebirths."
Alvarez grew up crossing the border, living in both San Diego and Tijuana. He remembers when construction began in the mid-2000s, a time full of promise and excitement, sparking his fascination with buildings. When construction stopped, it left behind the disconcerting realization that his community was littered with thousands of seemingly hopeless, unfinished homes.
Gustavo Chacon, a real estate professional in Tijuana and former president of the State Council of Real Estate Professionals of Baja California (CEPIBC), said the prospects of the construction projects had been promising.
"Of course the customers, the buyers were very excited about getting a property in the coastal area. And well, what happened, we all know, the economy crashed — and it hit everywhere. Especially in the building and single family and condos area," Chacon said. "So that really hit everything else. Any project that was actually being built or was going to be built, they totally stopped everything because of the economic crisis. And buyers just didn't see any future in it, it just stopped."
He estimated that most of the buyers were from the United States, with some from Europe and Asia, and inland areas of Mexico, like Mexicali and San Felipe, seeking a coastal lifestyle.
Chacon said that the area's housing market started to warm up again several years after the housing crash as investors returned, but for the coastal high-rises, it took approximately 14 years for work to resume on most buildings.
When Alvarez was an architecture student, he interned with his family's real estate business, working on a project that planted the early seeds of his art.
"My job as an intern was to document these 46 buildings. Go to each one of them, collect data. How many square feet — square meters — how many units, costs. Compile it all in a nice little booklet," Alvarez said. This research became foundational to his architectural identity.
After working briefly as an architect, he eventually detoured into art. Despite this shift, his process and the finished products retain an architectural sensibility. Inspired by topographies and constructions, his works — whether intricate drawings or three-dimensional sculptural paintings — showcase an architect's eye for space and detail.
Each piece in "46 Renacimientos" approaches its source material in a slightly different way. Some resemble ghostly architectural renderings, others are more abstract — all evoke an altar. Using discarded construction materials, trash, inky-black gesso, used packaging tissue and papier-mâché, Alvarez renders the buildings and landscapes in a rich grayscale — even the Pacific ocean.
"You get a sense of the weight and the solemnity of what happened. I like to represent that through form, through texture, relief, shadow — and that in itself brings enough color as it is," he said.
Alvarez will install the art this weekend for one day only in a Día de Muertos exhibit — a way to memorialize the buildings and their promise of eventual completion. Each painting will be displayed on a table, surrounded by marigolds or cempasúchitl flowers, skulls and other traditional Día de Muertos objects.
"Day of the Dead was very important because it sort of put this project, these 46 buildings on the same plane as something as heavy as loss. As much as we discuss this as a rebirth, as a celebration, a lot of people suffered financial loss on this, and it's a difficult part of our history," he said. "I wanted to show these buildings some respect, for them to finally have a moment to breathe and to rest."
