Artist's Colony

The culture set has descended on Guadalajara, drawn to its cool galleries, Modernist architecture, and forward-thinking cuisine. Thessaly La Force hobnobs in Mexico’s second city.

I moved here for love,” said the artist Eduardo Sarabia. We were seated across from each other at Hueso, a striking restaurant where the walls are lined with animal bones, in Guadalajara’s Colonia Lafayette district. Sarabia lived in Los Angeles until matters of the heart intervened. (He met his wife, Cristy, here; she now works for a local art incubator called PAOS that Sarabia co-founded with fellow artists.) And who could blame him for the move? Outside, the night was balmy. A group of Sarabia’s friends were drinking margaritas at the bar. A plate of fresh mussels cooked in a white wine broth sat before us. Nearby, chef Alfonso Cadena—who, with his beard and long hair, looked like he could be a character in Game of Thrones—was preparing the rest of our meal in the open kitchen. It was the last day of the Guadalajara International Book Expo, one of the largest in Latin America, and hundreds of thousands of writers, editors, and other literary types had descended on the city. There was to be a party later, in a hidden bar behind a burger joint called Gaspar, where more writers and artists would no doubt gather to dance the night away—all contributing to the growing sense of this city’s cultural ascendance.

For a long time, if you wanted to party or see art or eat good food in Mexico, you’d head straight to the capital. You’d stay in Condesa, maybe in Roma. You’d drink the tequila, eat the tuna tostadas at Contramar. Go dancing all night in Zona Rosa. Of course, you can still do all those things, but eventually even the most vibrant experiences become slightly faded over time. What was once new starts to feel programmatic. Which explains why those who are searching for something fresh are heading to Guadalajara.