Boyle Heights’ Casa del Mexicano is rising again

If the building could speak, its stories would be of galas and ghosts, of rats and lucha libre matches, of decades-long feuds.

The Casa del Mexicano, an 82-year-old cultural center in Boyle Heights, recently reopened its doors for this year’s Christmas posadas. A year ago, it had narrowly escaped foreclosure.

It’s a long and tangled story, one that few carolers knew as they ascended the iconic stairway, bringing the lime-and-lemon-colored building back to life with guitar strums and candlelight.

“Wow,” said Elvira Muro, 53, taking her seat inside. She craned her neck to admire the 50-foot ceilings, the cupola and balcony. “It feels like home, like Mexico.”

Families gathered around poinsettia-topped tables to hear fandango and other musical performances. They ate pozole, tamales and pan dulce.

Many had never set foot inside the building. They knew it existed, but they had little idea what went on inside.

The history of Casa del Mexicano is hard to piece together.

The nonprofit was established in 1931 by the Mexican Consulate under the name Comite de Beneficencia Mexicana Inc. The center aimed to support Mexicans during the Great Depression, when many were being forced to return south, blamed for stealing Americans’ jobs.

Over the years, it became a place of prestige.

Mexican dignitaries and celebrities visited. They danced in pearls and bow ties to raise money for programs. In the 1960s, former Mexican President Miguel Aleman put the Casa del Mexicano at the top of his list of places to visit in Los Angeles. Educational classes, donation drives and disaster relief fundraisers staged there helped thousands.

But by the 1990s, trouble had set in.

Organizers fought each other for control of the property. There were smear campaigns and feuds involving armed men and chain saws. Responsibility for the building switched hands so often, it became dilapidated. The roof leaked, windows were broken, rats ran wild.

In 2004, a married couple took over. Martha Soriano became president of the organization; her husband, Ruben, was the treasurer. They reported to a board of community members.

Martha Soriano promised to restore Casa del Mexicano’s educational and outreach programs. And she did — to some degree.

But there were rumors in the community that the couple were not managing the Casa as a nonprofit. People complained that the Sorianos were making money, lots of it, off the building.

Nearly every weekend, they rented out the cavernous space for quinceañeras, weddings and lucha libre matches. They held a swap meet in the run-down parking lot, charging vendors for each space. They allowed ghost hunters to regularly tour the site, for a fee.

In addition, the couple took out a $175,000 loan against the property, some say illegally. They then fell behind on the payments.

In 2011, a group of community critics alerted the state, and an investigation was launched.

The Sorianos said they were the victims of a bad economy. They took out the loan — with the board’s permission, they said — to make repairs on the building. But between what the couple called an unfairly high interest rate and a mix-up in the county that sent property taxes soaring, the Casa was mired even deeper in trouble.

In order to pay a mounting stack of bills, Martha Soriano said, they were forced to regularly hold events.

“From the start, we’ve been like the Flintstones,” she told The Times in early 2011. “Trying to make do to keep this place afloat.”

The couple did not respond to a recent request for comment.

In late 2012, the state attorney general’s office concluded its investigation and removed the Sorianos from the property. It dissolved the Comite de Beneficencia Mexicana Inc. and handed the Casa over to the East Los Angeles Community Corp., an affordable housing developer.

Maria Cabildo, that agency’s president, said the move caught her by surprise.

“They were looking for a reputable organization to take over,” she said. “But I never would have imagined it would be us.”

The developer, known for its recent restoration of the Boyle Hotel in Boyle Heights, had no experience running a community center. Taking over the Casa also meant paying off the loan taken out by the Sorianos, which had ballooned to $465,000.

“It was a real challenge,” Cabildo said. “But an important one because there’s so much history tied to the Casa del Mexicano. It needed to be rescued.”

The organization plans to fund-raise and seek grants to restore the building to its original glory, something that could cost about $5 million and take several years to complete.

In the two public meetings held so far, residents have expressed mixed feelings. Some remain skeptical, still upset over years of mismanagement.

“People show up with promises and all they do is bury the place deeper,” said a neighbor who’s lived in Boyle Heights more than 40 years. “I don’t see how anyone can fully turn it around.” The woman declined to be named, fearing criticism from neighbors and the facility’s previous owners.

But many, for the first time in a long time, are optimistic about the Casa’s future. They have given the development agency a long wish list of programs for children and adults. They want services centered on education, technology and culture.

“Give us music classes, programs for seniors, anything, really,” said Carmen Fuentes, 74, who lives a few blocks away and is part of a newly formed steering committee. “I want to turn the corner one day and say with pride to someone: ‘You know, this place used to be so ugly, and look at it now. It’s beautiful.’”

At the posadas, what caught most people’s attention was not the performers onstage but the building’s walls. They were covered with elaborate murals, painted by an artist who lived in the building from 2010 to 2012, painstakingly laboring on his own Sistine Chapel.

He painted every inch of the interior with the story of the Mexican people: Aztec gods, Pancho Villa, Emiliano Zapata, Los Angeles City Hall, gangsters, skulls and serpents.

The only part left unfinished was the cupola.

The muralist, Hugo Martinez Tecoatl, quietly joined the carolers at the Casa’s reopening. He said he’d like to finish his work, though he’s not sure any of it will be preserved if the building is restored. He knows he doesn’t have much choice.

“I hope it stays,” Tecoatl said. “As a symbol of where we come from and of all the change we’ve gone through over the years.”

esmeralda.bermudez@latimes.com