Buenos Aires, 2018. Population? Almost 3 million. High-speed maglev trains? Zero. Skyscrapers interconnected by railways? Zero. DeLoreans flying through the air? Unfortunately, zero. Transportation innovations? The Metrobus and bike lanes. In urban terms, the city seems not to have progressed at the pace once imagined.
There was blind faith in the future—a future where anything was possible, the sky was not the limit, and people could move freely above the clouds along a network of pathways connecting towering high-rises. What happened? To find out, we must travel back in time. To the past, to be precise.
Buenos Aires, early 20th century. A city of effervescence and optimism. In less than 50 years, five subway lines are built, along with Diagonal Norte and Diagonal Sur, the Obelisk, the Gran Rex, Comega, and Safico. Belgrano, Independencia, and San Juan streets are widened into avenues, apartment buildings rise, academicist buildings are demolished, Le Corbusier arrives, Le Corbusier leaves.
We had the drive and the capability, the future in our hands. Or so it seemed. The enthusiasm for what was to come was so immense that illustrations of a futuristic Buenos Aires began appearing in newspapers and magazines.
Imposing skyscrapers defined the Buenos Aires skyline, alongside seemingly cantilevered walkways and streets, trains running over buildings, airplanes and light aircraft, and the elevation of urban space.
Dr. Arch. Margarita Gutman sheds light on this subject through extensive research in her book, Buenos Aires, el poder de la anticipación: Imágenes itinerantes del futuro metropolitano en el primer Centenario (Ediciones Infinito).
By analyzing more than 7,000 issues of specialized and technical journals, trends, plans, and ideals, Gutman skillfully reconstructs the collective imagination of the early 1900s: the vertical city, cars and streetcars, the power of electricity, and faith in science.
If the question was "what is the city of the future?", New York was the answer. Naturally, so was Paris. Argentine architects and urban planners favored the Parisian model, while the rest of the population yearned for the American one. Torn between these two metropolises, we found ourselves dreaming:
"The inhabitants of Centennial-era Buenos Aires imagined and consumed a prolific and exciting set of images, desires, plans, and expectations for the city's future, during a period of major changes and aspirations. They were convinced of a future of limitless greatness."[1]
With the passage of time and successive economic crises, enthusiasm for the future gradually waned, and expectations came back down to earth, shifting toward more concrete utopias.
An imposing concrete esplanade floats over the Río de la Plata. Above, monumental skyscrapers light up the night, their glare captivating anyone who looks. This is the heart of Buenos Aires' financial district. This was the image Le Corbusier envisioned for Buenos Aires.
Years later, alongside Ferrari and Kurchan, they proposed an urban master plan: the "Plan Director para la ciudad de Buenos Aires" (Master Plan for the City of Buenos Aires). Land reclamation, zoning, the revitalization of the southern district, traffic segregation, riverfront integration, and a new business district were among its core tenets. Although the plan was never implemented, it served as a blueprint for future urban transformations.
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Then came Amancio Williams' turn. And he certainly did not disappoint. In collaboration with architects Delfina Gálvez de Williams and Jorge Vivanco, he designed "Viviendas en el espacio" (Dwellings in Space), where sun and air reign supreme.
Homes with gardens and flowers, where large glass panes look out onto blue summer skies and starry nights. Here, the garden is an extension of the house, and the sky an extension of the garden.
Later, in 1974, he doubled down with "La ciudad que necesita la humanidad" (The City Needed by Humanity). Under this vision, the city would develop within linear, stratified structures elevated 30 meters above the ground.
Offices, housing, services, cars, maglev trains, and roads—all operating on different levels of the same structure.
The first tier would house services and residences. Above that lay commerce, circulation, and transport, topped off by workspaces. Commuter downtime would be eliminated; to go from home to work, one only had to change levels. Though working from home was still decades away, Williams had already anticipated the concept.
Successes, failures, and a future that never was. It hurts not to measure up—literally. Everything still happens on the ground, and the clouds seem so far away. What will happen in the coming years? Does anyone dare to predict? I cling with hope to the words of Dr. Emmett Brown: "Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads." [2]
[1] Gutman, Margarita, Buenos Aires, el poder de la anticipación, Ediciones Infinito, 2011.
[2] Robert Zemeckis, Bob Gale, Back to the Future, Universal Pictures, 1985.
This article was written by Mariana Etulain. The translation is powered by AI.
.jpg?1542572410 "Retrofuturism in Buenos Aires")
