From Monument to Body: Reinventing Sucre’s Memory in Quito (1892-1900) [1]

Carmen Fernández-Salvador [2]

FERNÁNDEZ-SALVADOR, Carmen. From Monument to Body: Reinventing Sucre’s Memory in Quito (1892-1900). 19&20, Rio de Janeiro, v. X, n. 2, jul./dez. 2015. Avaiable at: https://www.doi.org/10.52913/19e20.X2.03b [Español]

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1. In 1900, the artist Joaquín Pinto reproduced Mariscal Antonio José de Sucre’s skull in oil, recently discovered in the Carmen Bajo monastery in Quito [Figure 1]. Stamped and authenticated by the Police Commissioner, the painting was made when the Medical School of the Universidad Central examined the hero’s exhumed remains. The painting, like the medical examination, had no scientific agenda. Showing the hole through which the bullet that had killed Sucre penetrated, in 1830, its purpose was to certify the authenticity of the relic, ensuring its importance as an object of contemplation and civic reverence.

2. The exhumation of Sucre’s relics in 1900, the images and texts that circulated in various media about their discovery and medical examination as well as the pompous funeral ritual that was organized, differ radically from other commemorative practices of the time. In the last decades of the 19th and the early 20th centuries, civic commemorations ratified the importance of public space in the city in the construction of a collective memory. During the public honours that took place in 1900 concerning Sucre’s remains, however, the attention was directed towards the body of the hero; evidence and relic of his own martyrdom, that body showed itself removed from the history that was inscribed in the local topography. These different forms of commemoration (both geography and body as places of collective memory) are not only mnemonic instruments, neutral and innocent; they are built on conflict and dispute. Having these examples as a staring point, I here analyse civic commemoration as a strategy in the articulation of opposite views of history, and as an indicator of the political contradictions between rival groups.

3. In the intersection between public spaces, celebratory rituals and the printed media, it is possible to recognize the conscious effort that shapes official memory. When referring to places of memory, Pierre Nora argues that they arise in the absence of a spontaneous memory.[3] He sustains that documentations and commemorations are a kind of prosthetic memory, that take shape from the outside. These enclaves, purposely built and preserved, are the opposite of social practice and live memory. The archive, the monument and the civic ritual, states Nora, indicate the anxiety created by the evanescence of memory. If prosthetic memory is an artifice, it can also be altered or reinvented. This is precisely what is suggested by the commemorative ceremonies regarding the figure of Mariscal Sucre that take place in Quito in the late 19th and early 20th century.

4. The ceremonies of this period, on the other hand, allow us to think about the apparent contradiction between tradition and modernity. Many of the civic events of this period use resources and conventions that are present in European celebrations, which are repeated in cities in the American Continent, such as Mexico City and Lima. News featuring the national holidays, broadcasted through the printed media, and the organization of art and industrial exhibitions allowed Quito’s intellectuals and politicians, in their cosmopolitan eagerness, to imagine and display the progress and modernity of their city. Besides, although the baroque tradition could not be replaced, it could be adapted to the secular needs of the nation-state.

5. Public sculpture, as noted by Natalia Majluf referring to Lima, was a way to build a public space, claiming streets and squares for the state and the nation.[4] The civic monument secularized the urban space as well, transforming old squares and buildings in places of remembrance of the republican history. In the case of Quito, ancient ritual routes and circuits were preserved, but a network of new meanings was built over them. On the other hand, according to Majluf, public sculpture became visible in the second half of the 19th century, when the notion of public sphere began to take shape.[5] Unlike what happened in Europe, adds the author, public opinion in Peru did not necessarily embrace a broad civil society, but rather the ruling classes that had strong links with government authorities.

6. Something similar happened in Ecuador. Although public sculpture and civic commemoration appeal to a wide audience, it is clear that, either way, they build an official memory in opposition to live memory or social practices. A debate on urban redesign and the construction of public monuments was made public through the printed media; however, in its intertextual dialogue, we recognize the voice of an intellectual and political elite that ignored the vast majority of the national population. Much of the printed media have limited circulation; that is, magazines which are published occasionally and that disappear after a few numbers, which indicates a restricted number of readers. As it will be discussed below, it is very common to use flyers funded by private corporations or individuals in order to articulate public debates around the design and decoration of the cities. Official publications have more impact, such as the magazine El Municipio, in Quito, or newspapers of different governments, such as El Nacional and El Diario.

7. Concerning this, it is necessary to clarify why it is important to talk about the celebrations taking place in Ecuador, particularly in Quito, in honour of Mariscal Antonio José de Sucre. The Venezuelan military officer was recognized as the Ecuadorian “father of the nation” in the late 19th century, so much so that the local currency was named after him. After leading the patriot army at the Battle of Pichincha, the last major military conflict that ensured the liberation of the region, the figure of Sucre was probably less local than other Ecuadorian heroes such as Olmedo, from Guayaquil, or Montufar, Larrea or Espejo, from Quito. As in Peru, the heroic figures of the pre-Columbian past had no greater importance in building the identity of the Ecuadorian nation during the second half of the 19th century, with the exception of anonymous figures who personified the American homeland, as with the first statue erected in honour of Sucre. One last important issue has to do with the relevance Sucre’s assassination attained, both in Ecuador and in Colombia, in the articulation of political conflicts and contradictions during the first century of the republican life. As it is well known, Juan José Flores, the first president of Ecuador, was often portrayed as a tyrant by subsequent governments and accused by his detractors of Sucre’s assassination. The same argument was taken up with force by Eloy Alfaro’s liberalism (1895-1901 and 1906-1911) as a strategy of attack against his opponents, and particularly against the progressive government of Antonio Flores Jijón (1888-1892), son of the former president.

The city as an enclave of memory

8. Commemorative sculpture appears only in the late 1880s, under progressive governments, partly due to scarce public resources, partly because of Ecuador’s turbulent political life during the 19th century. The first statue in honour of Antonio José de Sucre is designed precisely in this context [Figure 2].[6] The Spanish sculptor José Gonzalez Jimenez, who had come to Quito to work at the Conservatory of Fine Arts, offered to make a monument in honour of the hero. As noted by Angel Justo Estebaranz in a recent article, the Spanish sculptor signed a contract with the Municipality of Quito and received funding from the Home Office.[7] On top of that, the project received financial support from private donors, amongst which figured distinguished ladies of Quito’s society.[8]

9. The sketches for the sculpture were first modelled in clay and then in plaster, with the final sculpture being in trachyte: “a stone of magnificent mass and as white as marble”, as defended by the sponsors.[9] However, due to unresolvable disagreements between the parties, Gonzalez Jimenez did not carry out his commission and left the country. The plaster model, which showed Sucre standing on a lion while embracing an indigenous woman who personified the country, was found years later in a store. Plácido Caamaño, then president of Ecuador, acquired it with personal funds and placed it on the veranda of the then newly built Sucre National Theatre.

10. Nevertheless, the sculpture was subject of a heated controversy and a lengthy debate that permeated public opinion nationwide. The dispute began when the Spanish minister in Quito, Manuel Llorente Velásquez, presented his claim to the Ecuadorian government on the grounds that the statue offended Spain, since it showed the “gasping and dying Iberian lion beneath Sucre’s feet”.[10] Complying with the demand of the Spanish minister, Caamaño himself, with the support of the Municipality of Quito, ordered the mutilation of the statue, freeing “the lion from the oppression he had been submitted to”.[11] This action made the politicians and intellectuals of Quito, Guayaquil and Ambato take opposing stands. The most noteworthy of them was the writer Juan Leon Mera, from Ambato, who years later still questioned this decision. In the absence of a lion, Mera said, “Sucre’s figure is quite vulgar and ridiculous: it is a military officer full of embroidery and decorations, showing an infatuated attitude and caressing a timid and recoiling indigenous woman”.[12]

11. After the failure of this first project, the government pursued solutions that clearly left aside the patriotic and passionate discourse of Gonzalez Jimenez’s sculpture. And this was so because the liberalism of the 1880s was interested in showing Ecuador as a modern and cosmopolitan nation, rather than one rooted in grudges of the colonial past. In fact, it is noteworthy that, during this period, civic celebrations had been accompanied by national exhibitions that incentivized and advertised the industrial development of the nation, preparing the country for its participation in the great universal exhibitions, in Madrid and Chicago, in 1892 and 1893, respectively.[13] An example of this change is also evident on the frontcover of the magazine El Municipio, published on August 10th, 1890, in commemoration of the First Independence Uprising [Figure 3].

12. A magnificent condor with its wings spread tops the page. In the centre, the terrestrial sphere, where South America is seen with its clearly defined national boundaries On the globe, the personifications of three continents: on a distant side, Asia and, standing on the Equator, Europe and America. Nike, in military outfit, descends towards them carrying in her hands the pike and the Phrygian cap. The Greek goddess of victory is about to laurel Europa’s head, suggesting that freedom was her achievement. In fact, in the engraving, it is Europe that breaks the chains that bind America, symbolically handing them their emancipation. In the lower part of the globe, the coats of arms of different South American nations are displayed. On the far left lies the Iberian lion, asleep but not panting or dying, as it was the case in the sculpture of González Jiménez, while on the right side, scattered on the floor, the Spanish crown and sceptre can be observed.

13. The most important change that took place in the 1880s regarding civic commemorations went beyond an iconography that rejected the violent condemnation of Spain, and had more to do with the construction of a collective memory anchored both in the geography of the city and the civic calendar.[14] In fact, through a decree signed in 1888, the Ecuadorian Congress recognized the importance of rescuing prime locations in the urban topography.[15] These were sites in which singular events of republican history were inscribed, and as such constituted the bases for a national narrative. For example, it was decided that in one of the squares of the city a monument to the heroes of the First Independence Uprising should be raised, which would not be constructed until 1906. In the same decree, the placing of commemorative plaques was ordered. One of them was placed where the patriots of Quito, who had declared the independence in 1809, were killed a year later. The other one was placed in Manuela Cañizares’s house, where the liberty movement leaders met the night before the declaration of independence. The 1890 special issue of El Municipio, in which the Congress declaration written two years earlier was transcribed, also includes an engraving of Cañizares’ house, easy to identify and recognize due to its location, next to the church of El Sagrario. The same magazine shows the portraits of heroic figures, such as Eugenio Espejo and Manuela Cañizares herself.

14. Through their dissemination in the printed media and the constant references that were made to them in the celebration of civic events, both portraits and buildings became logos, images and places easily remembered by a wide audience. The interlock between place and memory, or between urban geography and patriotic narrative, on the other hand, is clearly suggested in another special issue of El Municipio (1889). According to Emilio Terán, author of the eulogy in the first pages of the publication, the nation’s history was made “in the snowy summit of the Pichincha, with the blood of Cabal, Calderón Castro, Alzuro, Anrango, Borrero and three hundred more”.[16] Terán added that after the Battle of Pichincha, in 1822, a pyramid was agreed to be built in the place where the historic event had taken place, although he acknowledges that more than half a century later, this effort had not yet been finalized. The most interesting thing about this text is that, for the author, memory is built in the encounter between the topography, origin of history, and the civic calendar that endorsed its commemoration. Therefore, he argues that with “the blood of the victors in Pichincha, this so very decisive field of victory is covered, not only with weeds, but also with the ungrateful mud of oblivion, and we have not even celebrated the anniversary of the great day that gave us independence”.[17]

15. One of the significant moments in the construction of the national memory took place in 1892. That year the statue of Sucre arrived in Quito, a work in bronze by Alexandre Falguiere following the design prepared by Gualberto Perez, an architect from Quito [Figure 4]. The monument was placed in front of the church of Santo Domingo, renamed Plaza de Sucre on the occasion. The simplicity and sobriety of the monument apparently did not please all the people of Quito, perhaps because the sculpture itself did not tell a story. In fact, the narrative is contained in the reliefs adorning the pedestal. Two of them showed Sucre leading the battle of Ayacucho and Pichincha, while the third represented the apotheosis of the Marshal. On the one hand, critics argued that the statue showed Sucre “as a conventional sign; it does not resemble General Sucre. The attitude is not elegant or artistic, but rather artificial”.[18] Its supporters, on the other hand, pointed out to the close connection between the monument and the heroic geography of the city.

16. In 1846, a decree of the National Convention recognized Sucre as the principal leader of the Ecuadorian independence. Here, for the first time, the relationship between the heroic event and the local topography was stated by proposing the construction of a mausoleum that would honour not only his memory, but also a privileged place in national history. According to the text of the decree, his tomb should be erected “on the slopes of Pichincha, in the Pantheon of San Diego in the capital city”.[19] A similar argument was used in 1892 regarding the recently inaugurated statue of the Marshal.

17. In the inauguration of the monument, Emilio Terán stated in an apologetic tone that while “some would have preferred to see him in the heat of the battle, showing his troops the path towards victory”, the artist had chosen a more sober representation, worthy of a public square.[20] “His martial attitude, calm and resolute, reveals his courageous character, at the same time firm and serene”, he said in his speech. Terán also argues that since Mariscal Sucre had been “victorious in countless battlefields, he should not be singled out only in Pichincha”. However, in the same speech, the connection between sculpture and urban space is highlighted. Beyond its importance as a portrait of an exemplary character, emphasis is made in the ability of the monument to articulate a sacred geography over which a historical narrative is woven. “Mariscal Sucre is represented in a standing position”, the speaker argues, giving an order of battle. Furthermore, he “looks at the Pichincha, an old witness of his greatest victories”. The argument of Terán’s discourse is echoed in the printed booklet that narrated the events surrounding the inauguration of the statue of Sucre. Mentioning a decree of the Municipal Council of Quito, it is suggested that the statue should embody both history and the sacred topography. In fact, according to the decree, “the pedestal should be of trachyte, extracted from the hillsides of the Pichincha, site of the victory of May 24th, 1822”.[21]

18. The monument to Sucre was followed by others that marked the urban space, helping to build a network of memory sites articulated through the celebration of civic rituals. In 1906, the monument to independence was erected.[22] In 1922, commemorating the centennial of the Battle of Pichincha, a monument to the unknown heroes was raised in the modern Avenue 24 de Mayo, a boulevard which had been recently built on the landfill of the old Quebrada Jerusalén, on the southern side of the city.[23] Also, an obelisk was placed in the Pichincha indicating where the battle took place. At the same time, in the northern part of the city, the Parque de Mayo was built, on what had once been the city’s common land.

19. Looking at the importance given to public spaces as places of remembrance, an issue that arises is the meaning given to Sucre’s body, an apparent anomaly in the modern city at the turn of the century. Even more surprising is the fact that, although it refers to a commemoration promoted by liberalism, baroque culture strategies are deliberately employed in order to move and convince the inhabitants of the city.

The disagreement over Sucre’s remains

20. After Sucre’s death, in 1830, his remains were transferred to Quito. They were allegedly buried in the church of San Francisco, where the family of the Marquise de Solanda, his wife, had a grave. It was not until after the beginning of the 20th century that a proper mausoleum was built to commemorate Sucre’s death. However, throughout the 19th century, his relics occupied a leading place in the national imaginary, being the centre of diplomatic negotiations between Ecuador and Venezuela, on the one hand, and on the other hand, articulating internal political disputes in the country.

21. Throughout the 19th century two other countries disputed against Ecuador for the right to Sucre’s relics. Bolivia claimed them on the grounds that he had been their first president, and Venezuela, for the logical reason that the country was the hero’s birthplace.[24] In what concerns Bolivia, as expected, the Ecuadorian Congress answered negatively. Venezuela's arguments, however, were not so easy to refute.

22. Twice, Venezuela asked the Ecuadorian government for support to exhume the remains of the Marshal of Ayacucho in order to transfer them to Venezuela. The first attempt took place in 1876, when a special representative of the Venezuelan government visited the convent and church of San Francisco de Quito, where Sucre had presumably been buried. These efforts, however, were not successful, because his grave could not be found. The carelessness with which Ecuador had treated the ashes of the great hero never ceased to surprise the Venezuelan representative.

23. In 1894, a second claim was held in order to transfer Sucre’s remains to the National Pantheon of Venezuela due to the hero’s centennial celebration, to be held a year later.[25] This desire was fuelled by the Spanish priest Pablo Moreno who, in a letter addressed to the Venezuelan President in August 1894, claimed knowledge of the exact location where the relics were, in the convent of San Francisco de Quito. In response to this letter, Dr. Antonio José de Sucre, nephew of the Marshal of Ayacucho, was appointed Charge d’Affaires of Venezuela in Ecuador, so as to undertake the necessary steps and investigations. As expected, Moreno did not have the information he claimed to have, and after a confusing sequence of testimonies given by the clergy of the Franciscan monastery, it was finally admitted that the remains were irretrievably lost.

24. However, it is interesting to note that, besides the ineptitude of the Franciscans, the Venezuelan mission had to face the veiled resistance of the Ecuadorian government, which ultimately would have objected to authorize the transfer of the relics of a figure whom they had adopted as a national hero. A letter sent to Dr. Sucre by Pablo Herrera, then Minister of Foreign Affairs, suggests this. In this letter, Herrera argues that investigations only confirm the impossibility of finding the coveted remains, for it was a “providential design that they rest forever in an Ecuadorian grave”. He adds that the “wish expressed, therefore, by the victor of Pichincha, and the love with which the people he liberated consider him as the father of their freedom, would be, I presume, a serious obstacle for my Government’s consent to strip their fatherland of the valuable possession of his remains, so arduously searched, if we ever had the good fortune, if I may say so, of finding them”.[26]

25. Besides the international controversy, silenced once Venezuela admitted that Sucre’s body had definitively disappeared, the remains of the Marshal of Ayacucho served to articulate the many conflicts that characterized the Ecuadorian politics of the 19th century. The fact that no proper mausoleum had been built for them was due, precisely, to the struggles during the first years of the Republic. In a letter written by the Marquise de Solanda to Jerome Sucre, her brother-in-law, she claims that the relics rested in the convent of San Francisco, and that they were going to be placed in “a rather sumptuous tomb that was going to be made, but that had been suspended by many political occurrences, which has kept us in a state of constant alarm”.[27]  The Marquise de Solanda refers to the country’s agitated political life under the first government of Juan José Flores, also accused by his opponents of being the mastermind of Sucre’s assassination.

26. In 1845, Juan José Flores was overthrown in a rebellion led by Vicente Rocafuerte and Vicente Ramón Roca, being the latter his successor to the presidency. In a symbolic gesture, the National Assembly of 1846 decided to build “a mausoleum on the slopes of the Pichincha in the pantheon of San Diego in the capital city, where the remains of General Antonio José de Sucre will be placed”.[28] According to Manuel J. Calle, who in 1900 wrote a report on the recent discovery of the remains, the honours expected to be offered by the Assembly of 1846 to Sucre’s remains marked the end of a tyrannical government and the foundation of the Republic.

27. It was like an awakening. The light of a new dawn bathed the domains, and Hope smiled in far-away boundaries. The night had been long and stormy: pain had torn the souls, and shame flushed the cheeks of a whole generation of slaves. Along the coasts, in the high plains of the Andes, on the streets of the cities and in the desolation of the forests, torrents of blood were shed: the blood of citizens, the blood of heroes, the blood of old conquerors of Freedom and the dark horizons were filled with the cries of the victims and the roars of impotence for fifteen years.

28. But the time had come, when there was light.[29]

29. Eloy Alfaro’s liberalism, in power in 1900, was comparable, according to Calle, with the period of peace that followed Juan José Flores’ downfall. Referring to the government of Antonio Flores Jijón (1888-1892), son of Juan José Flores, and of other progressive presidents of the time, he affirms that it would be inexcusable that the “descendants of Cain”, the “sons and disciples of the wrongdoer” should honour Sucre’s tomb. For that reason, he acknowledged “the providential law of history” that had allowed the remains to be found during Alfaro’s government.[30] In April 1900, a month before the commemoration honours of the Battle of Pichincha, the alleged remains were finally found, a secret kept for years by a close friend of the Marquise de Solanda’s, Sucre’s wife. After deceiving the monks of San Francisco, where a coffin filled with adobe was placed, Sucre’s remains were buried in the church of the city’s lower Carmen Convent, as it was then argued.[31]

Sucre’s remains: the history inscribed in the body

30. Once found, the remains of Mariscal Sucre were subjected to rigorous forensic examination conducted by professors of the Medicine School of the Universidad Central del Ecuador in order to verify their authenticity. Indeed, according to the findings of the Medical School, the bones belonged to a single male individual who had died at an age between thirty and forty. The approximate height of the subject was deduced from the dimensions of the bones. The salt deposits covering the bones, as well as their fragility, led to assume that they had not been recently buried. Even more important, because it was irrefutable evidence, was the fact that the examination provided detailed information on the nature of the wounds exhibited by the skull, which matched those suffered by Sucre. They mentioned an injury to the right temporal region, which “must have been caused by a fire-arm’s spherical projectile, wounding the skull in the direction of a tangent, and producing a fracture due to the sinking of a parietal”. The head injuries were also in “perfect accordance ... with the slashes found on the hat worn by the victim on the day of the horrific crime”.[32]

31. The exhumation and analysis of Sucre’s remains were followed by an elaborate funeral ceremony that made use of various strategies that were typical of Baroque feasts.[33] As from May 29th, 1900, and for 7 consecutive days, various events were organized, starting with the chapel that was built in the Lower Carmen Convent, and the transfer of the remains to the Quito Cathedral, attended by civil authorities, religious orders, representatives from the university, colleges and schools, the media and the diplomatic corps, as well as professionals and artisan guilds. A horse wearing Sucre’s saddle, followed by the army, brought the funeral procession to a close.

32. The procession passed by the most important points of the city, where five catafalques were placed. The funerary urn should be placed over adorned ephemeral arches of triumph, “while the grave was dug by the community”. Along the itinerary, triumphal arches were erected, two of them in the Plaza de la Independencia, on either side of the Government Palace. The first one had Doric columns imitating bronze. On both façades national shields surrounded by wreaths were observed. The second one, imitating marble, had on its top the Victory’s carriage, drawn by four horses; on the sides the banners of the five nations liberated by Bolivar were displayed. The last arch, located in the Bolivar Square, had been built by people from Guayaquil who resided Quito. According to newspaper reports of the time, this arch was an imitation of Paris’ Arc de Triomphe.

33. The catafalques that enabled civil organizations to pay homage to Sucre’s remains, as well as the triumphal arches through which the procession passed, reinforced the presence of the Marshal of Ayacucho’s body as an object of veneration. At the same time, news about the celebration was broadcasted through printed media. Repeatedly and explicitly, images and descriptions of his bones were disseminated through photographs, magazines and newspapers.

34. Although there is a dialogue between the different photographs, sketches and paintings of Sucre’s remains, we can see slight variations, which in turn suggest different purposes. The photographs stored in archives, including the ones of the Medical School of the University, probably had a restricted circulation. Their protagonist is the scientific work necessary in order to legitimize the authenticity of the relics [Figure 5]. The photographs illustrating magazines, on the other hand, focus on the representation of the bones, sometimes trying to find a parallel between Sucre’s simulacrum and his presence. This is the case of the illustrations in Revista Quito, where the profile portrait of the Marshal of Ayacucho appears next to his remains [Figure 6].[34] Hence, the image seems to be endorsing the authenticity of the relics.

35. The oil painting by Pinto, and a drawing on paper by the same author, are a case apart [Figure 7]. As noted by Eduardo Maldonado Haro, the drawing and the painting are an exact match in terms of size and perspective, leading us to think that they are related to each other as copy and original.[35] Usually, Pinto executed preparatory drawings on paper, which he then transferred to another medium. Evidence of this is the imprint line seen in many of the author’s drawings resulting of the pressure exerted on the paper to transfer the design to the canvas, metal or wood. As noted by Maldonado Haro, however, the mark is absent in the drawing of Sucre’s skull, suggesting that this was not a preparatory sketch for the canvas. It is possible that the oil painting was the model for this drawing, which has been reproduced in the past, even in etchings. Concerning this, it is worthwhile noting that the magazine El Municipio repeatedly speaks of the lithographic portraits of the Independence heroes executed by Joaquín Pinto and José M. Proaño.[36] Moreover, in the program of festivities organized in 1889 by the Municipal Council of Quito commemorating August 10th, one of the activities would be “to spread the portraits of some heroes of the emancipation... works by Mr. Joaquín Pinto and Mr. José María Proaño”.[37] Like these lithographic portraits massively distributed among those attending the celebration of August 10th, the reproduction of Sucre’s skull, as from the canvas, would have been a way of spreading the devotion to the hero.

36. The Police Commissioner’s stamp is also to be considered. We know that during the exhumation of Sucre’s remains and during the forensic examination performed by Medical School members, the Police Commissioner and the Public Notary of the Quito canton accompanied the process.[38] In other words, the analysis of the remains had to be properly (i.e., legally) registered and authenticated. Equally important is the inscription of the exact date of execution, Friday May 4th, 1900, on the canvas. The medical examination began on April 24th, 1900, but not until May 7th of the same year had the expert’s report been delivered. This suggests that, not only the members of the Medical School of the Universidad Central, but also Pinto had the skull before his eyes and that the painting resulted from a careful study of Sucre’s remains. The stamps displayed prominently on the canvas, as well as the exact date, suggest the importance of the work as a part of the legal process of authentication of the relics.

37. Finally, it is interesting to think about the artist’s intention to focus the attention of the viewer by eliminating much of the information (such as that of the other bones of the body) included in the photographs that circulated in the printed press. As a consequence, both in the sketch and in the oil painting, Sucre’s lacerated skull becomes the object of contemplation, arousing in the viewer a similar feeling as the one generated by the Christian relics on display in church altars. The wound where the bullet entered is shown as evidence of Sucre’s martyrdom, as an example of his virtue and devotion. And simultaneously, it is a continuous reminder of the hand that murdered him.

38. The ritual organized around Sucre’s veneration in 1900, and the multiple images of his remains, spread publicly and expeditiously, are reminiscent of the civic commemorations that took place in France a century earlier.[39] Suzanne Lindsay Glover noted that, after the French Revolution, and particularly during the Consulate, the bodies of the martyrs and the injured (the wounds and amputations of the disabled) were displayed as an example of their patriotism. By means of what Lindsay calls “the carnal evidence of modern France”, a sense of unity was created and a common enemy was identified at the same time. In Napoleonic France, the common enemy was England; for Ecuadorian liberalism, the common enemy built around Sucre’s relics was not the Spanish monarchy but the previous governments, the heirs of Juan José Flores.

Final considerations

39. In his speech during the commemoration of the Battle of Pichincha, in 1890, Emilio Terán establishes a distinction between the hero and the martyr, “the desire for future glory creates the hero; by sacrificing him, the fatherland has one more martyr amongst its sons”.[40] In the 19th century Ecuador, Sucre embodies the hero and the martyr. If both public sculpture and urban space honoured him as the leader of the patriot armies at the Battle of Pichincha, the discovery of Sucre’s remains in 1900 gave way to a reinvention of his historic role. The rituals then organized and the images that circulated through the different media did not aim at his heroic deed; Sucre’s actions on behalf of the independence of the American peoples, and of Quito in particular, were now absent. Removed from the narrative inscribed in the local topography, the hero of the emancipation had become the martyr of the early republicanism.

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KENNEDY-TROYA, Alexandra Kennedy; FERNANDEZ-SALVADOR, Carmen. El ciudadano virtuoso y patriota: notas sobre la visualidad del siglo XIX en Ecuador. Ecuador: Tradición y Modernidad. Madrid: SEACEX, 2007, pp. 45-52.

La Estatua de Sucre. Quito: Imprenta de La Nación y Cía., 1892.

La Sanción. Número Extraordinario, Quito, 4 de junio de 1900

LINDSAY, Suzanne Glover. Mummies and Tombs: Turenne, Napoléon, and Death Ritual. The Art Bulletin, 82, 3, Sept. 2000, pp. 476-502.

MAJLUF, Natalia. Escultura y espacio público. Lima, 1850-1879. Lima: Instituto de Estudios Peruanos, 1994.

MALDONADO HARO, Eduardo. Un acercamiento a la técnica de Joaquín Pinto. Joaquín Pinto. Crónica Romántica de la Nación. Quito: Centro Cultural Metropolitano, 2011.

MERA, Juan León. La Estatua de Sucre. Ambato: Imprenta de Salvador S. Porras, 1886.

MURATORIO, Blanca. Nación, Identidad y Etnicidad: Imágenes de los indios ecuatorianos y sus imagineros a fines del siglo XIX. Imágenes e imagineros: representaciones de los indios ecuatorianos, siglos XIX y XX. Quito: FLACSO, 1994, pp. 109-196.

NORA, Pierre. Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Memoire. Representations, University of California Press, No. 26, Special Issue: Memory and Counter-Memory, Primavera, 1989, pp. 7-24.

Patria Inmortal. Quito: Imprenta de Jaramillo y Compañía, 1906.

Programa de los Festejos y Actos Públicos con que El Concejo Municipal de Quito celebrará el 80 aniversario del 10 de agosto de 1809, 1889.

Quito: Quincenal ilustrado de artes y letras, Quito, 15 de junio de 1900

Restos del Gran Mariscal de Ayacucho: Documentos publicados por la legación de Venezuela. Quito: Tipografía Salesiana, 1895.

SÁNCHEZ, Manuel Segundo. Los restos de Sucre. Caracas: Litografía del Comercio, 1918.

_______________________________

[1] Translation by Elena O’Neill.

[2] Universidad San Francisco de Quito.

[3] NORA, Pierre. Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Memoire. Representations, University of California Press, No. 26, Special Issue: Memory and Counter-Memory, Spring, 1989, pp. 7-24.

[4] MAJLUF, Natalia. Escultura y espacio público. Lima, 1850-1879. Lima: Instituto de Estudios Peruanos, 1994, 9.

[5] Majluf reffers to Habermas’ definition of the public sphere as a space for discussion of general issues which divide the civil society from the state. Ibid, p. 17. On the relationship between public sculpture and memorial ceremonies in Ecuador during the last decades of the 19th century, see KENNEDY-TROYA, Alexandra Kennedy y FERNANDEZ-SALVADOR, Carmen. El ciudadano virtuoso y patriota: notas sobre la visualidad del siglo XIX en Ecuador. Ecuador: Tradición y Modernidad. Madrid: SEACEX, 2007, pp. 48-49.

[6] For details on the design of this statue, see La Estatua de Sucre. Quito: Imprenta de La Nación y Cía., 1892.

[7] JUSTO ESTEBARANZ, Ángel. José González Jiménez y el monumento a Sucre en Quito. SEMATA, Ciencias Sociales e Humanidades, Universidad de Santiago de Compostela, 24, 2012, pp. 395-413.

[8] La estatua..., p. 9.

[9] Ibidem, p 8.

[10] Ibidem, p. 10.

[11] Idem.

[12] MERA, Juan León. La Estatua de Sucre. Ambato: Imprenta de Salvador S. Porras, 1886, p. 2.

[13] On the country’s progressive vision and Ecuador’s participation in the great universal exhibitions, see MURATORIO, Blanca. Nación, Identidad y Etnicidad: Imágenes de los indios ecuatorianos y sus imagineros a fines del siglo XIX. Imágenes e imagineros: representaciones de los indios ecuatorianos, siglos XIX y XX. Quito: FLACSO, 1994, pp.109-196.

[14] Several authors have suggested changes in the commemorative strategies of different Latin American countries throughout the 19th century, in response to concerns regarding the elites. In several nations we can recognize a relatively homogeneous process, ranging from the claim of the indigenous past, at an early stage of republicanism, to the exaltation of local figures, mostly heroes, but occasionally conquerors such as Pedro de Valdivia in Chile. Particularly after 1860, the monument appears strongly in the major Latin American cities, such as Mexico, Buenos Aires, Santiago and Lima. Quito is no exception, although public sculpture is present here a little later than elsewhere. See, for example, BURUCÚA, José Emilio Burucúa; CAMPAGNE, Fabián Alejandro. Mitos y simbologías nacionales en los países del cono sur. In: ANNINO, Antonio; GUERRA, Francois-Xavier (eds.) Inventando la nación: Iberoamérica. Siglo XIX. México: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 2003, 433-474 y EARL Rebecca. Sobre Héroes y Tumbas: National Symbols in Nineteenth-Century Spanish America. Hispanic American Historical Review, Duke University Press, 85, 3, 2005, pp. 375-416.

[15] Mentioned in El Municipio. Número Extraordinario. Quito, Imprenta y Litografía de la Novedad, 10 de Agosto de 1889, p. 8.

[16] Emilio Terán. El 24 de Mayo. El Municipio. Número Extraordinario, Quito, May 24th, 1890, p. 3.

[17] Ibidem, p. 4.

[18] La Estatua de Sucre..., p. 10.

[19] In: La Sanción. Número Extraordinario, Quito, June 4th, 1900, p. 4.

[20] In: Diario Oficial. Número Extraordinario, Quito, August 1892, pp. 24-25.

[21] Inauguración de la Estatua del Mariscal D. Antonio José de Sucre en Quito el 10 de Agosto de 1892. Quito: Imprenta del Clero, [1892], p. 103.

[22] On the inauguration of the monument to independence, see Patria Inmortal. Quito: Imprenta de Jaramillo y Compañía, 1906.

[23] On the commemoration of the centennial of the battle of Pichincha, see BARRERA, Isaac. Relación de las Fiestas del Primer Centenario de la Batalla de Pichincha, 1822-1922. Quito: Talleres Gráficos Nacionales, 1922.

[24] For further details on this, see SÁNCHEZ, Manuel Segundo. Los restos de Sucre. Caracas: Litografía del Comercio, 1918.

[25] Details about priest Moreno’s deceit, and the futile search by the priest Antonio José de Sucre of the remains of his relative, are collected in a series of documents issued in Quito by the Venezuelan embassy. See Restos del Gran Mariscal de Ayacucho: Documentos publicados por la legación de Venezuela. Quito: Tipografía Salesiana, 1895.

[26] Ibidem, p. 26.

[27] SÁNCHEZ, op. cit, p. 22.

[28] In: La Sanción. Número Extraordinario, Quito, June 4th, 1900, p. 4.

[29] Ibidem, pp. 2-3.

[30] Ibid., p. 4.

[31] Interview to Mrs. Rosario Rivadeneira. El Diario. Edición dedicada al Gran Mariscal de Ayacucho. Quito, May 24th, 1900, p. 17.

[32] Ibidem, n.p.

[33] Details on Sucre’s funeral are presented in El Diario. Edition dedicated to the Gran Mariscal de Ayacucho. Quito, May 24th, 1900, n.p. Other publications show pictures of the chapel in the Lower Carmen Convent, as well as the triumphal arches that were placed at strategic points of the city. See, for example, La Sanción. Número Extraordinario, Quito, June 4th, 1900, 7, 11, p. 15; Quito: Quincenal ilustrado de artes y letras, Quito, June 15th, 1900, xxxiv.

[34] See La Sanción. Número Extraordinario, Quito, June 4th, 1900, p. 19; Quito: Quincenal ilustrado de artes y letras, Quito, June 15th, 1900, xxiii.

[35] MALDONADO HARO, Eduardo. Un acercamiento a la técnica de Joaquín Pinto. Joaquín Pinto. Crónica Romántica de la Nación. Quito: Centro Cultural Metropolitano, 2011, pp. 90-91.

[36] See, for example, El Municipio. Publicación Municipal, V, 80, Quito, December 2nd, 1889, p. 1; El Municipio. Publicación Municipal, VI, 88, Quito, April 18th, 1890, p. 1.

[37] Programa de los Festejos y Actos Públicos con que El Concejo Municipal de Quito celebrará el 80 aniversario del 10 de agosto de 1809, 1889.

[38] See El Diario. Edición dedicada al Gran Mariscal de Ayacucho. Quito, May 24th, 1900, n.p.

[39] LINDSAY, Suzanne Glover. Mummies and Tombs: Turenne, Napoléon, and Death Ritual. The Art Bulletin, 82, 3, Sept. 2000, pp. 476-502.

[40] TERÁN, Op. cit., p. 4.