I have compared three bridges previously, in Luxembourg, and found a simple truth to materials, construction and purpose to be the most satisfying combination. In Buenos Aires I have visited three more.
 
Of course, there are many bridges in this once seafaring city, but the similarities and differences between these three strike me as educational. For, as with many bridges these days, each is in part a focus within an urban attraction, and each promotes a language of structural minimalism and efficiency.  But they do so very differently.

Puente Transbordador Nicolás Avellaneda

The first and earliest Puente is in the old port area of La Boca, a 1914 structure in the industrial no-nonsense language exported around the world by Great Britain at the turn of the century and so found in the infrastructure of numerous foreign capitals.
 
This is a transporter bridge, built by the British company and finance that laced the countryside with its first railways and helped amalgamate and build the economy of Argentina.

For many years the bridge successfully transported trams, goods, and passengers and, as a consequence, UK prowess and British largess. It is similar in function and structural efficiency to that in Middlesborough, but with a narrower river and a 90 second crossing time it makes me wonder why there wasn't a simpler solution.

Doubtless that went through somebody’s mind, and either there wasn’t, or that mind belonged to someone who built railways.

The bridge has new engines now but still no traffic, as the wharf side industry and the country’s spare economy has dried up while the rachet-lifting and fixed bridges immediately downstream connect further afield more effectively, if less enjoyably. It remains though, a prominent sculptural landmark and heritage asset that adds attraction, composition and closure to the tourist heart of this otherwise perennially down-at-heel neighbourhood.

Puente Figueroa Alcorta

The second bridge is probably what one might expect from 20C modernism in South America, an extremely elegant exercise in reinforced concrete, manically painted. 

The bridge was constructed in 1960 as a road crossing to the May Sesquicentennial Exhibition (that’s 150 years apparently). At that time it was called ‘Puente peatonal Dr. Alfredo Roque Vítolo’, before Dr Vitolo’s period in Argentina’s tormented political history fell out of favour.

Wiki records:

This reinforced concrete pedestrian bridge over Figueroa Alcorta Avenue was designed in the planning office for the May sesquicentennial exhibition, by César Janello together with the architect Silvio Grichner and the engineer Atilio Gallo.
 
Its geometry: a longitudinal profile with an upper curve that saves the height at the midpoints and takes an inflection, for easy access at the ends; and a lower curve that separates from the previous one, when approaching the ends, to give a greater section in the supports. The railing remains as a separate element. It is conceived as a series of lines that visually accompany the shape of the bridge.

There is no doubt that the minimal depth at the center of the span is exceptional and, in a more penetrating climate, nigh-on impossible. But despite, or because of the enviable gymnastics the result is a simple, understated solution that allowed a generous, raised view across the exhibition halls and promoted, and continues to promote, the modern engineering and design skills of the Argentinian nation with minimum fuss and minimum material. 

Puente de la Mujer

The third bridge spans and swings across the city dock at Puerto Madero and is another import, this time from Spain and courtesy of Santiago Calatrava.

While I have long appreciated the skills of that office, here my enthusiasm starts to wane.

20 years old and closed for substantial renovations suggests something is not quite right, as does the concept of a tall and inevitably flexible linear structure being asked to swing through 90 degrees. The visual weight at the monolithic elbow where the twisting and cantilevering load is taken during the swing (and all the repair work is being done during my visit), seems out of proportion to the thin white cable brace and bridge deck.

The consequential rather muscular inelegance at this junction is promoted as the embrace of tango, an artifice that also seems in contrast to Santiago’s usually sinuous anthropologic design rationale.

Unlike my first two bridges, Puente de la Mujer appears to me to be a consequence of style over substance, a criticism that could be pointed at, and is usually a consequence of, Puerto Madero developments the world over. I read that the bridge was a replacement for an advertising campaign, and this comes as no surprise.

Unlike the Transbordador, this is a bridge tasked with being a promotional aid to the rapid commercial development of the docks, rather than a concise solution to a functional need that only thereafter becomes an object of representation. Unlike the Alcorta bridge, the Puente de la Mujer has material in places where material shouldn’t have to be, seeking to meet requirements for rotation with a structural form that is not naturally inclined to do so.

Immediately adjacent to Puente de la Mujer berths a sailing ship, with a bowsprit braced by a flexible cable system that does exactly what it needs to do to withstand the forces of the ocean. Here there is less material and more purpose in every component and, while the appearance may have similarities, the principles are more similar to my first two bridges than the one that seeks to emulate the essence of tango or the trimmed practicalities of the sailing genre.