Semana Santa 2: Gaudí, but not Gaudy

My last post about Barcelona touched on modernist architecture and I dropped the names of three famous architects from the late 1800s.  If you've read the title of this post, you can probably guess which one I'm going to continue talking about (Hint: it's not Puig i Cadafalch or Doménech i Montaner).

To appreciate Gaudí, there are a few key elements that you have to keep in mind: nature, geometry, and religion.  Representations of the natural world have been present in architecture since Biblical times.  For example, when Solomon built the temple, the tops of the pillars were adorned with carvings of pomegranates.  Gaudí took this idea one step further: he didn't just decorate his buildings with various elements of nature, he specifically designed his creations to imitate natural phenomena.  A good example of this can be found in Park Guell, which definitely deserved more than the couple of hours that I was able to spend there.  Here's a picture of an elevated pathway in the park; notice how the columns are designed to imitate tree trunks.

Pictured: a woodpecker's worst enemy.

As far as geometry goes, it's pretty clear that Gaudí knew his stuff.  He was a particular fan of using "ruled surfaces" which, in layman's terms, means that he used a bunch of straight lines to make a curve.  Doesn't seem like all that big of a deal when you put it that way, but keep in mind that he was the first to experiment with these new structures; he had no precedents to tell him whether they would succeed or fail.  Of course, they did succeed and his impressive use of curves still manages to produce quite an effect.  Here's one of the buildings at the entrance to Park Guell; he employs his signature-style curves in a way that I can only describe as "whimsical."

All these lines make a curve, all these lines make a curve, all these lines...

The final thing to keep in mind about Gaudí is the fact that he was a devout Catholic.  Religion had a profound effect on Gaudí's life and his work, which can be seen clearly in his masterwork, the basilica of La Sagrada Familia.  Of all the cathedrals I've seen so far, I liked this one best.  Sure, it lacks the overwhelming size of the cathedral in Seville or the gaudy, gleaming ornamentation of St. Peter's, but the elegant beauty of La Sagrada Familia left me speechless (those of you who know me can appreciate how difficult that is).

Here's the church, here's the steeple, open the doors...

...and stand in awe with the people

This is a case where pictures are inadequate to give you a good impression of, well, the impression that it has on people.  However, I can at least give it a shot.

Gaudí's use of light is absolutely brilliant.

It's clear that Gaudí obsessed over even the slightest details.  Take the stained glass, for example: he coordinates the colors so that the ambient light transitions smoothly as the sun moves across the sky, and he incorporates names of Christ and of other churches into the windows.  Or take a look at the supports: he uses columns with 6, 8, 10, and 12 sides, each type made from a different kind of stone.  The four 12-sided columns are the largest and occupy a central position.  At the top of each is a representation of each of the gospels as one of the four living creatures in Revelation 4.

Anyway, I could go on for days about the Sagrada Familia, as Hunter Guthrie knows very well by now.  The last thing to mention about Gaudí's magnum opus is that he never got to see it completed.  In fact, neither did I; the building, which was started in 1882, was not even close to being done at the time of Gaudí's death in 1926.  Using designs from Gaudí's notes, construction has been able to continue, but it's not expected to be entirely finished for at least another twelve years.

A work in progress.

Toward the end of his life, Gaudí cloistered himself away inside the unfinished building, working incessantly to bring his masterpiece to fruition.  He was well aware that he would probably not live to see the completion of his masterwork and, when asked about the length of the construction, he replied: "My client is in no hurry; God has all the time in the world."

Semana Santa 1: Apples to Apples

Alright, time to start chronicling my adventures over Holy Week, which is when Spanish students get their Spring Break.  This is going to be the first post of a series, which I hope to finish before the week is over.  So here we go...

The story starts on the evening of Thursday, April 10th, with me stuffing everything I'm going to need for the week into a duffel bag and catching a night train from Madrid to Barcelona.  When I rolled into town, I holstered my trusty camera, stowed my bag in a locker at the station, grabbed a map of the city, and stepped out into the brisk morning air.

My sightseeing plan in Barcelona largely revolved around the works of Antoni Gaudí, one of the most prominent architects of the Modernist style.  The city was actually home to quite a few famous Modernist architects, including a couple of Gaudí's contemporaries: Luis Domenech i Montaner and Josep Puig i Cadafalch.

But before we go anywhere, what is Modernism?  Well, funny that you should ask.  Basically, it's a school of architecture born in the late 1800s, thanks to the Industrial Revolution.  The Modernist style was designed to take advantage of the availability of new materials, such as iron and glass, to construct buildings that would have previously been thought impossible.  This new-found freedom also meant more variety between the styles of individual architects, as you are about to see.  Below are three houses from Barcelona's famous "Block of Discord."  And yes, as a matter of fact, they were designed by the three architects that I mentioned earlier.

La Casa Amatller by Puig i Cadafalch

La Casa Lleó Morera by Domenech i Montaner

La Casa Batlló by Gaudí

Why is it called the "Block of Discord"?  Well, one reason is that the vastly different styles of the three architects don't really mesh all that well.  Keep in mind that two of these houses were actually next door neighbors and the other one is only a couple doors down the street.  For a different perspective on the stylistic differences, check out these close-ups of the windows of each house:

Windows are such a pane.

Cadafalch chooses a more traditional Spanish look, Montaner goes for a sort of neoclassical feel, and who even knows what on earth Gaudí is up to because that crazy building doesn't look like anything that anyone has ever seen before (actually, Gaudí did this a lot).

However, the main reason why this street is called the "Block of Discord" is actually a little more subtle and a lot more clever.  It revolves around the Spanish translation of the word 'block.'  In Latin America, the word for 'block' is 'cuadro', but here in Spain, we use the word 'manzana' instead.  So the literal name in Spanish is "La Manzana de la Discordia."  Now, if you were paying attention in Spanish class, you should know that 'manzana' is also the word for 'apple.'  And if you're familiar with Greek mythology, you might remember that the Apple of Discord was given to Paris, who was then supposed to award it to the fairest of three goddesses (Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite).

And now you see the parallel: a mythological contest between the three most well-known Greek goddesses and a bit of a rivalry between the three most well-known Modernist architects.  And at the core of both competitions, a single 'apple.'

x

Happy Easter!

What's up, everyone?  I know it's been a while since my last post, but I've been rather busy of late.  Recently, I've made quite a few trips, including going to Portugal with some friends from my study abroad program and travelling across Italy with a one Hunter Guthrie.  Needless to say, I've also accumulated some wonderful stories and pictures, which will be forthcoming.  In the meantime, I thought I'd just poke my head in for a quick "Hello" to let y'all know that I'm still alive and well.  

And of course, happy Easter.  He is risen...