The Other Colón

Whenever I am in Buenos Aires, I make a point of walking past Teatro Colón.

I have never been inside.

My connection to the theater is not through opera or performances. It begins with the city itself and with something much simpler.

The theater and I share a name.

Colón.

That coincidence has always made me notice the building differently.

There is something amusing to me about returning to Buenos Aires and making a point of going by to see the other Colón.

But once I am there, what keeps my attention is the architecture.

I enjoy looking at the symmetry of the building, the repetition of its windows, columns, arches, and decorative details.

I photographed it as I encounter it when walking through Buenos Aires.

There are people on the sidewalk.

There are traffic lights and street signs.

Avenida 9 de Julio is nearby.

I did not want to separate the theater from those things because they are part of how I know it.

I may never have entered Teatro Colón, but somehow, whenever I return to Buenos Aires, I still feel the need to stop by and see it again.

The Other Colón presents Teatro Colón not as an isolated architectural monument, but as a familiar presence within Francisco Colón's experience of Buenos Aires.

The photograph was made on August 8, 2015, from a three-quarter street-level perspective that allows the theater's elaborate façade and architectural symmetry to remain prominent while preserving the surrounding city.

Pedestrians, traffic signals, palm trees, neighboring structures, and the nearby Avenida 9 de Julio remain visible within the composition.

These elements are not treated as distractions.

They establish the theater as part of an active urban environment and reflect the manner in which the photographer repeatedly encounters the building while walking through Buenos Aires.

The title introduces the personal connection with understated humor.

The photographer and the theater share the name Colón.

What begins as a coincidence of names has developed into a small ritual of return: although Colón has never entered the theater, he makes a point of seeing it whenever he visits the city.

The photograph therefore operates simultaneously as an architectural observation and a record of familiarity with place.

Some places become familiar without ever truly becoming ours.

I have never walked through the doors of Teatro Colón.

I have never sat inside its auditorium.

I have never attended a performance there.

And yet, whenever I return to Buenos Aires, I want to see it.

Perhaps it started because of the name.

Colón.

There was something amusing about finding this magnificent building in a city I enjoyed visiting and realizing that we shared that small connection.

But familiarity has a way of growing.

Eventually, it was no longer simply about the name.

I began to recognize the building.

Its symmetry.

Its windows.

Its columns.

The details across its façade.

Seeing it became part of seeing Buenos Aires again.

There are places we know because we have entered them.

And there are others we know simply because we have passed them enough times that their presence becomes familiar.

Teatro Colón became one of those places for me.

I have never been inside.

But whenever I return to Buenos Aires, I still go looking for the other Colón.

Preserved as the forty-fourth accessioned photograph in the Francisco Colón Studio Photography Wing, The Other Colón documents Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires, Argentina, on August 8, 2015.

The photograph presents the historic theater from a street-level three-quarter perspective, emphasizing the symmetry, repetition, and architectural detail of its façade while retaining the surrounding urban environment.

Pedestrians, traffic infrastructure, palm trees, neighboring architecture, and the nearby Avenida 9 de Julio remain intentionally present within the frame.

The work carries an additional autobiographical association.

Francisco Colón has never entered the theater, yet during visits to Buenos Aires he developed a personal ritual of walking past the building. The shared name—Colón—initially provided a playful point of connection, while repeated encounters with the theater created a deeper familiarity with its architecture and place within the city.

Within the Cities collection, The Other Colón considers how repeated encounters can transform a public landmark into a personally recognizable part of a city.