A Social Media Platform from 1858 – Cafe Tortoni

The irony isn’t lost on me.  I don’t drink coffee, but I adore cafes.  I’ve been blessed to take in the sights, smells, and tastes of some of the most famous spots around the world where happiness is measured in units of cappuccino froth and the jovial clinking sounds of cups touching down on eagerly awaiting saucers.  Each of these places is unique, but all of them tell a story.

Last month, with only a few hours left in a flash business visit to Buenos Aires, I knew there was one stop I had to make…I needed to pay homage to the city’s famous Cafe Tortoni.  Like all famous cafes, it’s a place where business gets done and where the city has helped define itself for decades — one sip at a time.*

This is the scene:  to my left there is a handsome, young Argentine couple, impeccably dressed (even though it is a weekend) who are only partially aware of the fact that they could be thrown onto the cover of a fashion magazine with little (or no) notice.  There is a table in front of me hosting a group of three tourists (Spanish, I presume, from their accent), taking in the scene, and busily comparing Tortoni to a cafe in their city.  To my right is a chatty  woman and her daughter, arguing about something that happened last night at dinner (it seems like a juicy story, but there are limits even to my eavesdropping abilities and sensibilities).  Even if I didn’t speak Spanish, the context of the conversation would be clear from the body language of their $2,000 coats and their dueling designer purses.  Peppered in between these tables are a handful of Argentine friends and colleagues who are meeting for what appears to be the business of the day:  something to drink, something to eat, with politics and gossip to wash it all down.  Even when just having a cup of coffee, Argentines make the mundane look fashionable.  It is so easy to love their flair for adding flair to everything.

Cafe Tortoni, like its sister golden-era-sisters around the world, is fitted with noble architecture, fine wood and mirrors, and the artifacts of the “good old days” — political posters, photos of famous stop-bys, and nostalgic nods to the fact that this cafe has seen the good, bad, and the ugly of the last century.  And like some of the choice diners and coffee shops in the U.S., the iconic restaurants of New York, Chicago and San Francisco, and the grand hotel lobbies of Philadelphia, L.A. and Boston, this place invites people not to reflect, but to participate.  There is an election happening this weekend in Argentina, and I am struck by how a very 2011 conversation is layering itself on top of what has gone before.  People are talking about the economy, a new slate of candidates, the “Arab Spring,” news of another oil spill…and are checking information and making plans for onward rendezvous from their smartphones.  Someone, somewhere inside this cafe, is posting to his or her Facebook page.  And I am posting this to my blog.  There is a conversation taking place because a platform exists to bring people together and inquire, profess, agree, survey and like or dislike one another’s ideas.

I love cafes because they invite people to do something together.  Of course it is possible to have coffee (or a hot chocolate, or steamed milk, if you are me) in your home, quite effectively, and quite alone.  But one of the best, and oldest forms of analog social media (if the inhabitants of Twitteropolis will indulge me for a moment with the analogy), will always be the historic downtown cafe.  Being true to this platform, I will “like” Cafe Tortoni not with a click of my mouse, but by sipping the last bit of frothy milk from my cup, and clinking it down loudly before paying my check and running for the airport.

*Cafe Tortoni has direct links to some of the most Argentine of cultural institutions—including the Tango.  For more on its history, see the official site here.