The first time I heard an architect friend talk about "the architects' block" in El Poblado, I thought he was referring to some street full of design offices or maybe a place where professionals gathered for a beer after work. I couldn't have been more wrong. He was referring to a specific stretch of Carrera 36 (known as Calle 10A in the old naming system), a section of no more than 300 meters where, between 1950 and 1965, one of the most significant concentrations of modern housing that Medellín ever had was built.
Today, when most people associate El Poblado with the noise of Provenza, the glass towers of El Tesoro, or the upscale restaurants on Calle 9, that block is still there, enduring. It doesn't appear in pocket travel guides, it's not on the maps of free tours, and it's certainly not in the Instagram reels promoting the city of eternal spring. But for those who know how to look, it's an open-air museum that tells the story of how Medellín tried to modernize without losing its tropical soul.
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This isn't a lesson in architectural theory. It's an invitation to walk slowly, to look up, and to discover a Medellín that doesn't advertise itself with neon billboards. If you're one of those who think El Poblado is only skyscrapers, bars, and shopping malls, get ready to change your mind in the next five minutes of reading.
Origins: When El Poblado Was a Town of Estates and Hamlets
To understand why this unique block exists, you have to go back almost a century. At the beginning of the 20th century, El Poblado was not the financial epicenter we know today. It was a rural township, dotted with country estates, pastures, and a few small settlements around the San José church. Medellín's wealthy families—who lived downtown, near Plaza Botero and Parque Berrío—had their vacation homes there, escaping the industrial bustle that was beginning to take hold in the Aburrá Valley.
The real change began in the 1940s. Medellín was experiencing an unprecedented economic boom thanks to the textile and coffee industries. The city was growing southward, and El Poblado began to stop being a weekend destination and started becoming a residential extension of the metropolis. But not just any extension: it was the place where traditional Antioquian families wanted to build their homes, away from the downtown smog but close to the city that was progressing.
In that context, a group of young architects, recently graduated from the Universidad Nacional and some trained abroad, saw a unique opportunity. These were the years when the modern movement—the one that proposed clean lines, functionality, and a break with historicist styles—was arriving in Latin America with force. Medellín, with its enterprising spirit and its upper class willing to invest in design, became an architectural laboratory.
Carrera 36, in the sector we now know as central El Poblado, was one of those plots where this laboratory took root. It wasn't the main street, it didn't have the glamour of Avenida El Poblado, but it was a quiet place, with large lots and gentle topography that allowed for experimenting with inner courtyards, latticework, and concrete walls. There, between 1950 and 1965, about a dozen houses were built that today are silent gems of Colombian modern architecture.
The Context: What Was Happening in the World and in Medellín
While local architects were designing those houses, things were happening in the world that today seem distant but explain much of what was built. Le Corbusier had already published his five points of modern architecture, Frank Lloyd Wright was experimenting with the organic integration between building and landscape, and in Brazil, Oscar Niemeyer was putting Latin America on the world design map with Brasilia.
In Medellín, the influence of these currents arrived through specialized magazines, study trips, and visits from foreign architects invited by the Universidad Nacional. The Plan Piloto de Medellín, drawn up in 1950 with advice from European urban planners, proposed a modern city with wide roads and green areas. Although the plan was not fully executed, it planted a seed in the mindset of local builders: Medellín had to look forward.
The architects who worked on Calle 10A were not unknown names. Nel López, one of the most recognized of the era, left his mark on several homes in the area. Jaime Vélez, another great one, experimented with reinforced concrete facades that today look like habitable sculptures. Their names appear in the archives of the Lonja de Propiedad Raíz and in Medellín's Land Use Plan (POT), which in its heritage annexes recognizes several of these properties as assets of cultural interest.
The interesting thing is that these architects weren't literally copying what they saw in Europe or the United States. They were adapting the modern language to Medellín's climate and culture. Instead of the enormous windows that Le Corbusier demanded in Paris, they designed concrete lattices that let the breeze through without sacrificing privacy. Instead of the flat roofs used in cold climates, they created wide eaves to protect against the tropical sun. Thus was born their own version of the modern movement, one that international critics would later call "tropical modernism."
Timeline or Historical Milestones
To understand how this urban gem came to be, it's worth looking at the calendar closely. It's not a linear story of progress, but a series of moments that linked together to produce what we see today.
1940–1950: The Years of Preparation
El Poblado was still a township, but its future was already visible. The construction of Avenida El Poblado, which connected downtown with the south of the valley, opened the doors to urbanization. In 1943, the Sociedad Colombiana de Arquitectos was created, a milestone that gave professional status to those who until then were considered mere builders or master craftsmen. The first architects graduated from the Universidad Nacional began seeking clients among the wealthy families buying lots in El Poblado to escape the city noise.
Calle 10A was then a bridle path lined with mango and guayacán trees. The lots were large, some over 1,000 square meters, and sold at prices that today seem ridiculous. The families buying there weren't looking for ostentatious homes; they were looking for tranquility, clean air, and a place to raise their children away from the downtown factories.
1950–1958: The Creative Explosion
This is the golden period. Between 1950 and 1958, most of the houses that today make up the architects' block were built. The clients were doctors, lawyers, textile entrepreneurs, and some liberal politicians who sympathized with the ideas of progress and modernity. The architects, for their part, had almost total freedom to experiment.
Nel López designed a house in 1953 for the Restrepo Uribe family that still stands today on Carrera 36 with Calle 10A. The facade is a play of horizontal concrete planes projecting toward the street, creating deep shadows that protect the interior windows. Neighbors at the time called it "the house of the seagulls," because the eaves looked like outstretched wings. Jaime Vélez, meanwhile, built a home in 1956 for the Echavarría family, with an inner courtyard that became the centerpiece of the design. The house doesn't open to the street but inward, creating an oasis of silence in the middle of a neighborhood that was beginning to grow.
Other homes were the work of lesser-known but equally talented architects. The Arango family house, built in 1954, has a concrete lattice on the facade forming a geometric pattern inspired by indigenous weaves. The Gómez family house, from 1957, is an example of how exposed brick could be combined with reinforced concrete to create textures that are both warm and modern.
1958–1970: Consolidation and the Change of Scale
By the late 1950s, the block was practically built. But Medellín kept growing, and El Poblado began to densify. Single-family houses started giving way to apartment buildings, first four and five stories, then ten and fifteen. Calle 10A, which had been a residential haven, began to feel the pressure of real estate development.
Some of the modernist houses were demolished to make way for new towers. Others were converted into offices, medical clinics, or company headquarters. But several survived, partly thanks to the quality of their construction and the prestige of their designers. The owners understood they had something valuable in their hands, something that couldn't be easily replicated.
1970–2000: Oblivion and Silent Degradation
For three decades, the modernist houses on Calle 10A lived through a period of relative neglect. Modern architecture went out of fashion, replaced by more ornate styles or simple real estate speculation. Some facades were altered, floors were added, original windows were changed for aluminum ones, concrete walls were painted with colors that distorted the original design.
It was also the era when El Poblado became the most exclusive neighborhood in Medellín, and land values skyrocketed. Every lot was a gold mine for builders, and the pressure to demolish was enormous. Many houses fell in the 1980s and 1990s, replaced by apartment buildings that now populate the area. The ones that remained, remained almost by miracle.
2000–2026: The Heritage Rediscovery
At the beginning of the 21st century, a group of architects, historians, and urban activists began campaigning for the protection of these houses. Medellín's Land Use Plan, adopted in 2006 and revised in 2014, included several of them in the city's heritage inventory. Not all achieved full heritage status, but at least five were recognized as properties of cultural interest, which requires their owners to maintain the facades and essential design features.
As of September 2026, the situation is paradoxical. On one hand, heritage awareness has grown, and more and more people are interested in the history of these houses. On the other, real estate pressure continues, and some of the homes that didn't achieve protection are at risk. The architects' block is today a fragile testament, a place that could disappear if it isn't valued in time.
Key Figures or Events
Behind every facade there's a human story, and behind every house there's a name worth remembering. These are some of the protagonists of this urban story.
Nel López: The Master of Concrete
Born in Medellín in 1915, Nel López trained as an architect at the Universidad Nacional, where he would later teach for over thirty years. He was one of the first professionals in Colombia to systematically adopt the modern language, without the historicist concessions still seen in many projects of the time.
His best-known work on Calle 10A is the Restrepo Uribe family house, built in 1953. But he also designed other homes in the area, all characterized by the expre
