Florida’s Lost Paradise: From Jewel to Black Hole

by Ahmed Ibrahim World Editor

Harrods of Buenos Aires: A Luxury Icon’s Descent into Darkness

A once-grand department store, shuttered since 1998, casts a growing shadow over the urban landscape of Argentina’s capital, raising questions about ownership, preservation, and the future of the city center.

The Harrods department store at 800 Florida Street is more than just a building; it’s a palimpsest of Buenos Aires’ history. Inaugurated in 1914, the store—the only branch of the famed British brand outside of Great Britain—represents a dual existence: the concrete reality of its decaying structure and the intangible weight of collective memory held by generations who walked its halls. Today, it stands as a stark reminder of lost grandeur and unrealized potential, a “black hole” impacting the vitality of its surroundings.

The building itself is a testament to early 20th-century architecture, bearing the signatures of British architect Paul Bell Chambers and American Louis Newbery Thomas on its Florida Street façade. Both architects contributed to other National Historical Heritage sites, including the First National Bank of Boston (now ICBC) and the La Plata train station, underscoring Harrods’ own historical significance. Originally spanning Florida and Paraguay streets, the store expanded over the years to encompass an entire city block, incorporating fronts on San Martín and Avenida Córdoba.

A particularly striking feature is the massive zinc dome on the corner of Avenida Córdoba and San Martín. However, this architectural detail now reflects the building’s overall state of disrepair. Years of neglect have caused the zinc to deteriorate, revealing the underlying structure and serving as a visible symbol of Harrods’ decline. This section of the building was constructed by a British company and architect Santiago Mayaud-Maisonneuve. Drone imagery reveals an even more dilapidated condition on the unseen sides of the structure, with ornamentation—signage, decorative coffers, and glass—steadily disappearing.

“I understand cities as an ecosystem,” explains architect and urban planner Johanna Coifman. “Everything that happens in them is linked: the social, the economic, the environmental, etc. Harrods is not only an abandoned and empty structure, but it impacts the block, the block and the neighborhood, but ultimately the entire City. There is a very concrete urban impact because low blinds are like walls that no one takes care of, a tree stops growing, people don’t pass by out of fear. They are areas that belong to no one, that no one cares for, that no one claims.”

This impact is particularly evident along the 100-meter stretch of low blinds on San Martín Street, described as broken, neglected, and rusty. Coifman emphasizes the need for a holistic approach to urban revitalization, noting that Harrods is located in the Central Area, which is undergoing a transformation accelerated by the coronavirus pandemic. “These types of urban challenges sometimes require more integrated responses and not mono-sectoral solutions or interventions,” she states.

For decades, the owners of Harrods have remained largely silent, announcing projects that ultimately failed to materialize. Atilio Gibertoni, the local representative, has not responded to recent inquiries. Sources close to past negotiations suggest potential ownership issues—described as a “lojita” of paperwork—may be hindering progress. This is not an uncommon issue in Buenos Aires, as exemplified by the long-term closure of Casa Basavilbaso, currently listed for $10 million and entangled in a dispute among nearly 30 heirs. The Confitería del Molino, another historically significant property, faced similar challenges before being expropriated by the state in 2017 for over $11 million due to its architectural value.

The City of Buenos Aires does have an expropriation law, allowing the state to acquire properties deemed to be of public utility. However, with the current fragmented political landscape in the Buenos Aires Legislature—characterized by a strong libertarian presence—the possibility of expropriation, even a private one, appears unlikely.

Local merchants express a mix of hope and disappointment regarding Harrods’ future. A waiter at the Notable Florida Garden Bar notes the fascination tourists have with the Harrods signage, but also expresses anticipation for the planned restoration of the nearby Plaza Hotel Buenos Aires, undertaken by the Alvear Group. The façade on Florida Street presents a confusing scene, with the adjacent Thompson building—constructed around the same time and in a similar Edwardian style—appearing to be operational, leading some to mistakenly believe that Harrods is partially open.

Architectural researcher Adolfo Brodaric suggests a possible collaboration between the architects of Harrods and Thompson, Sydney Follet and James Farmer, given the striking similarities in their designs. Both architects also contributed to the Gath & Chaves annex, another historic department store on Florida Street. Brodaric also identifies the British Embassy, the Miter railway terminal, and a building on Rivadavia and Libertad as notable examples of Edwardian architecture in the city.

Photographs from 2006, taken during a Viva magazine shoot, offer a glimpse into Harrods’ interior during its eight years of closure, revealing intact spaces like the hairdresser and barbershop, and the beloved merry-go-round. Today, the building is secured with barbed wire, a stark symbol of its abandonment.

The fate of Harrods remains uncertain, a decaying landmark casting a long shadow over the heart of Buenos Aires, and a potent symbol of the challenges facing the city’s historic urban fabric.

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