Hacienda Subin: A Historic Estate Finds Its Purpose
The best way to experience it is to have your driver let you off at the gate. Like so many homes in Mérida, all you see is a wall of weather-patinated stone. But step over the threshold, and Hacienda Subin presents itself as designed—low-slung and wide, filling your peripheral vision as you approach.
Before I could enter, the rumble of heavy machinery distracted me. At the long-abandoned Casa de Máquinas, an excavator broke through low trees. Laura Kirar was at the wheel. In gold heels.
Laura Kirar at Subin in 2020.Photo courtesy Laura Kirar
Laura Kirar and her gold heels make a big impression when behind the wheel of an excavator.Photo: Patricia Robert / Yucatán Magazine
An alternative cover for ‘s Hacienda Issue.Yucatán Magazine
Hacieda Subin in 2020, before it was restored and expanded.Photo courtesy Laura Kirar
Entering Hacienda Subin on foot, from a distance, is highly recommended for obvious reasons.Photo: Patricia Robert / Yucatán Magazine
Laura Kirar is planning cinema events on the grounds of Hacienda Subin in Yucatán.Photo: Patricia Robert / Yucatán Magazine
Hacienda Subin’s Laura Kirar finds that a portrait from the new Yucatán Magazine was a cover contender.Photo: Lee Steele / Yucatán Magazine
“When I was a kid, I told my mother I was going to live in a huge stone house one day,” she called over the engine’s roar as barking dogs circled the machine. Her husband, Richard Frazier, pointed to the next area to clear. “I also told her I was going to have 10 children. Maybe I meant 15 dogs?” Laura attacked the brush, satisfaction spreading across her face.
An hour later, we sipped iced tea under the Moorish arches.
“Hacienda Subin was our home the moment we crossed the threshold. There was a connection to the energy of the space, and for the first time, I felt I could touch the light of the Yucatán.” Laura gestured to fabric swaying between the arches, tinted orange by afternoon sun.
Built in the 1680s as a cattle ranch, Subin sat in ruins for decades until the couple bought it in 2008 and embarked on a decade of renovation. Painstakingly restored, it now features herringbone-patterned volcanic rock floors, a Maya obelisk in a reflecting pool, and the Yucatán’s most photographed pool house.
Over the years, the home welcomed friendship, artistic expression, and community. But recently, the focus has shifted.
“Richard met the gentleman who owned it 40 years ago, and he pointed out where the cenote was. We always felt there was power here—something deep. Now we see healing as the next chapter. Healing and community.”
Casa de Máquinas will become a multi-purpose creative space exploring film, culinary arts, and performance. In November, Subin hosted healing retreats and Thanksgiving dinner for 100 people.
As sunset arrived, silent bats swirled through the portico. Walking back across the lawn to the gate, I glanced at light glowing through the open arches. This was a home built with love and kindness, grace and generosity of spirit.
We search for the perfect house to make our own. Occasionally, however, a house waits for the right people to discover it and allow it to become what it was meant to be. This one did.
Writer David N. McIlvaney splits his time between Mérida and the Catskill Mountains of New York, where he draws water, hews wood, and ponders his relationship with the outdoors.
