Jean Miro and Antoni Gaudi
While in Barcelona, we went to the much-lauded Jean Miro museum where we were much disappointed. After being inside comfortable and interesting Gaudi buildings, the Miro felt, sounded and looked harsh, angular and rough. The sounds of people moving and talking became as prickly as the cacti on the hill we had just gotten lost on. The temporary installation on the lower level included staccato music that bounced like verbal glass shards and after a while sitting in the museum made contemplating anything other than the fact that Gaudi could have made a great museum instead of having construction crews pour a pile of concrete walls and floors.
I can’t say that Miro's work soared above the building. The large weaving near the entry was impressive and a two sided tile had nice color and texture on the hidden side. The egg sculptures here and there were pleasing and some of the landscapes were pleasant enough but the black and white “fireworks” and the contemplation for a recluse (or something like that) were depressing and many of the works were titled “painting”. Was that the best he could do?
Person after person walked through whispering “Brilliant” and I didn't get it. Couldn't even figure out what "it" was.
When we were in the Gaudi buildings, the rooms were easily as densely populated as the rooms in the Miro yet the noise in Gaudi-spaces was always a dissipated hum. The rounded corners and doorways didn’t bat the sounds around as if they were huge wings on pinball machines but they guided voices to listeners and absorbed footfalls. The Gaudi buildings were designed to be comfortable and to provide for the flow of air and sound. The art museum was designed as a surface for display with no thought for the comfort of visitors or workers.
Casa Batllo was marvelous with shiny tiles, unexpected door panels, curved wood work, stained glass windows, fish scale details on walls, a mushroom-shaped nook with a chocolate brown fireplace and ceilings that swirl.
La Paderera is a mass of creativity and comfort. It's modern but ageless and nothing if not different.
Having said that, Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's cathedral, isn’t my favorite place. Eighth wonder of the world though it may become when finished in 2050, I find the facade of the Nativity to be roughly swirled – a concrete head with naturally curly hair that has been in humidity and wind for 100 years already and twists in every direction with no pattern or place for the eye to rest. Rick says it is like a super large candle that has melted and dripped and then solidified into a huge waxy glob.
The spires are impressive and I think I like the multicolored fruits and eyes of god on top of them but there is so very much happening on the exterior walls that just looking at the shapes and shadows might drive a person mad. How did the workers ever manage to create it?
Inside it’s different. There are many calm surfaces and great stained glass colors and more stained glass to come in the next 4 decades and the massive amount of materials (rock, concrete, steel, glass, marbles from around Europe) staggers the mind as does the idea that the cathedral has been in progress since 1888 and won’t be finished for another 43 years.
It’s exciting to see a cathedral be constructed because it is such a massive and complex object. It’s an interesting project. Outside there's a lot of this and that - stuff I won’t live to see finished to make a final assessment. Inside, I like it. The columns have lines from floor to ceiling. The exterior walls are clearly defined and the stained glass installed so far puts blurs of orange and blue across people and floors. Again, hordes of people stand, walk and explore while construction workers pursue their tasks but the noise is never deafening and there are lots of shapes to look at and enjoy with places to draw the eye onward as well as to give allow pause. Inside, it feels like Gaudi while outside it's gaudy but everywhere it's a heck of a building.
Showing posts with label Barcelona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barcelona. Show all posts
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Barcelona, Sunday
Barcelona
Barcelona looks and feels like the definition of variety – people, vehicles, food, architecture. It doesn’t have the polish of Madrid or the endless sea of ornate buildings of Prague or the charming tiny metro of Budapest but it does have the work of Antoni Gaudi and for mind-boggling architecture Gaudi is the winner.
We strolled on Sunday looking at buildings, taking photos of doors, finding fresh vegetables and exotic fruit at a market, snacking at restaurants joining Barcelonans in what feels like a spontaneous and endless parade on La Rambla.
We’ve seen so much here that it’s hard to remember it all. In the old days, before digital, we’d have used three or four rolls of film in a week and hoped to remember something when we got it developed later. Now we take photos by the hundreds each day and hope to identify them when we download in the evening. For me, the review helps to set the memories.
We went to one of many of Barcelona’s (free) cultural museums to see the ruins of the prior Roman city. The excavations under a 14th and 15th century building are extensive and the museum offers video programs to show how the area was uncovered and what it would have looked like in Roman times. Drainage ditches defined the textile dye shop and the bottoms of large, round, clay vats used for wine making were intact in the winery area. Like many museums there is a free audio tour in a choice of several languages.
The port seems an enormous see urchin with its spiny coating of sailboats side by side and end to end almost totally coating the water, locked inside a bay where a pedestrian bridge swings open to allow boat traffic. (After a warning alarm the bridge moves. People stop at the edge – no guard rail, no security person – and the crowds back up along both sides of the bridge filling the space so that when the bridge goes back into line again it takes a while for the traffic to unplug and flow again.)
At the far end of the bridge is a shopping center with Starbucks, Ben & Jerry’s, restaurants, clothing stores of enormous prices and lots of places to sit and wonder. At the shore is a huge monument to Christopher Columbus surrounded by lions whose backs frequently have tourists sitting for a photo.
On Monday we had a Gaudi day starting with Cassa Calvet. We couldn’t actually go inside of Cassa Calvet. Surprisingly, the building has straight lines – rounded corners but straight lines. The balconies glide out from the windows and doors and the building wears a stately crown.
The sandstone blocks are of different sizes and the balconies are supported by curvy and intricate carved stone. Inside, they say, all the wooden furniture and walls are individual sculptures.
Then we found Cassa Batllo. Holy Cow.
The building is nick-named “Bones” because of the organic pillars on the outside. Rick seemed taken by the windows with large, circular glass pendants seeming to hang from filaments of lead within a free structure of glass. I think they represent air bubbles in the water. The building was created on an aquatic theme with dark blue tiles inside the courtyard at the top and lighter blue toward the bottom so that deep into the courtyard the colors would be more reflective.
The doors were flowing panels of wood and the ceilings had the curves of water-moved sand. The walls were painted in fish scales and the air moved through channels in the walls as if currents of water. On the terrace were ceramic gardens and on the roof the chimneys came together to form a small coral reef. Fish scale tiles defined the roof’s wave-contour – or is it the shape of a fish’s back? Whatever it is, I see why Gaudi was thought to be either a maniac or a genius. His imagination was enormous, his skill undeniable. The building felt good from the inside. I want to be able to think that that in many materials. Wow.
We stayed in a Spanish apartment (less expensive than a hotel). Our apartment entrance was a marble hall with marble stairs and a lift in the central courtyard. Our kitchen window opened into another courtyard and all kitchen conversations in the building blended together there with aroma of dinners (often involving garlic).
There were other windows that opened into other internal courtyards and at the rear was a little balcony looking out into a huge courtyard along with 500 close neighbors. In the center of the area was a school and a play area. Sometimes there were a few people out on their balconies but generally outdoor time seems to be spent in the streets or in the squares.
Our apartment had a kitchen, bathroom, central hall, 4 bedrooms (2 quite small) and the living/dining area that opened to the balcony. I don’t mean to give the impression that the balcony was large. It was little more than a place to hang clothes, sit on a small stool and balance the computer on an ironing board, our makeshift table. Voices carried there also floating with the sound of a distant TV, an opening window and silverware finding those garlic-filled dinners.
Barcelona looks and feels like the definition of variety – people, vehicles, food, architecture. It doesn’t have the polish of Madrid or the endless sea of ornate buildings of Prague or the charming tiny metro of Budapest but it does have the work of Antoni Gaudi and for mind-boggling architecture Gaudi is the winner.
We strolled on Sunday looking at buildings, taking photos of doors, finding fresh vegetables and exotic fruit at a market, snacking at restaurants joining Barcelonans in what feels like a spontaneous and endless parade on La Rambla.
We’ve seen so much here that it’s hard to remember it all. In the old days, before digital, we’d have used three or four rolls of film in a week and hoped to remember something when we got it developed later. Now we take photos by the hundreds each day and hope to identify them when we download in the evening. For me, the review helps to set the memories.
We went to one of many of Barcelona’s (free) cultural museums to see the ruins of the prior Roman city. The excavations under a 14th and 15th century building are extensive and the museum offers video programs to show how the area was uncovered and what it would have looked like in Roman times. Drainage ditches defined the textile dye shop and the bottoms of large, round, clay vats used for wine making were intact in the winery area. Like many museums there is a free audio tour in a choice of several languages.
The port seems an enormous see urchin with its spiny coating of sailboats side by side and end to end almost totally coating the water, locked inside a bay where a pedestrian bridge swings open to allow boat traffic. (After a warning alarm the bridge moves. People stop at the edge – no guard rail, no security person – and the crowds back up along both sides of the bridge filling the space so that when the bridge goes back into line again it takes a while for the traffic to unplug and flow again.)
At the far end of the bridge is a shopping center with Starbucks, Ben & Jerry’s, restaurants, clothing stores of enormous prices and lots of places to sit and wonder. At the shore is a huge monument to Christopher Columbus surrounded by lions whose backs frequently have tourists sitting for a photo.
On Monday we had a Gaudi day starting with Cassa Calvet. We couldn’t actually go inside of Cassa Calvet. Surprisingly, the building has straight lines – rounded corners but straight lines. The balconies glide out from the windows and doors and the building wears a stately crown.
The sandstone blocks are of different sizes and the balconies are supported by curvy and intricate carved stone. Inside, they say, all the wooden furniture and walls are individual sculptures.
Then we found Cassa Batllo. Holy Cow.
The building is nick-named “Bones” because of the organic pillars on the outside. Rick seemed taken by the windows with large, circular glass pendants seeming to hang from filaments of lead within a free structure of glass. I think they represent air bubbles in the water. The building was created on an aquatic theme with dark blue tiles inside the courtyard at the top and lighter blue toward the bottom so that deep into the courtyard the colors would be more reflective.
The doors were flowing panels of wood and the ceilings had the curves of water-moved sand. The walls were painted in fish scales and the air moved through channels in the walls as if currents of water. On the terrace were ceramic gardens and on the roof the chimneys came together to form a small coral reef. Fish scale tiles defined the roof’s wave-contour – or is it the shape of a fish’s back? Whatever it is, I see why Gaudi was thought to be either a maniac or a genius. His imagination was enormous, his skill undeniable. The building felt good from the inside. I want to be able to think that that in many materials. Wow.
We stayed in a Spanish apartment (less expensive than a hotel). Our apartment entrance was a marble hall with marble stairs and a lift in the central courtyard. Our kitchen window opened into another courtyard and all kitchen conversations in the building blended together there with aroma of dinners (often involving garlic).
There were other windows that opened into other internal courtyards and at the rear was a little balcony looking out into a huge courtyard along with 500 close neighbors. In the center of the area was a school and a play area. Sometimes there were a few people out on their balconies but generally outdoor time seems to be spent in the streets or in the squares.
Our apartment had a kitchen, bathroom, central hall, 4 bedrooms (2 quite small) and the living/dining area that opened to the balcony. I don’t mean to give the impression that the balcony was large. It was little more than a place to hang clothes, sit on a small stool and balance the computer on an ironing board, our makeshift table. Voices carried there also floating with the sound of a distant TV, an opening window and silverware finding those garlic-filled dinners.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Barcelona
Barcelona, Saturday
(The Internet in our apartment is slow and spotty but I will try to post photos on flickr which seems a bit faster than putting them in here.)
We used the Metro to get to the airport without problems yesterday. It took an hour or so using three trains but it was so early that it worked for us. We picked up our boarding passes or we thought we did but luckily Rick looked at them before security screening because they were for Emilie and Josh. Back at the check-in counter the woman realized she had passed our bag onto a plane that we weren’t flying on but thought that if we were related to someone on the plane that she could just report that and it would be okay.
We found Em and Josh, both hungry because their plane meals were cheese based (Will airlines ever understand vegan?) and tired because of the dueling/crying babies on board. (They always seem to travel with crying babies.)
The plane ride was short and we found each other and Rick’s oddly checked bag in Barcelona. While picking up our Barcelona passes a family came to the counter to report that one of their bags had been stolen from their cart and it held all their money and credit cards and their passports. The guide books were clear about the thievery here but that is a often-published warning. Actually seeing it happen made us grab our bags and keep a keen eye out. So far we've been okay and hopefully that family had some insurance or found some kind of immediate help.
The experience with the pay phone to call about our apartment was out of the keystone cops. Put the coin in. Don’t put the coin in. The number dialed. The number didn’t dial. Connect with the person. Fail to hear the person. Go to the apartment and call again. Someone might come. When someone actually did arrive it was a thrill.
The apartment is roomy with 4 bedrooms and a living room and kitchen and tiny balcony but it has no internet, only one wine glass and no salad spinner. The washing machine did make the clothes wet if not clean but it refuses to spin dry so our socks from last week are dripping still and will probably dry tomorrow.
We went out for food and exploration finding wonderful buildings, punks and Goths smoking and laughing, costumed people posing for money on Las Ramblas, a wine store experience with a cheerful and knowledgeable proprietor whose hand signs and smile extended Josh and Em’s Spanish into a conversation and some kind of fire and drum parade that brought out police, ambulances and lots of excited spectators.
Back at the apartment we dunked some tiny bread sticks in chocolate and I started battle with the washing machine. The opening act was washing Rick’s shirt with the Barcelona cards in the pocket. Pressed flat and dried overnight, it still works.
(The Internet in our apartment is slow and spotty but I will try to post photos on flickr which seems a bit faster than putting them in here.)
We used the Metro to get to the airport without problems yesterday. It took an hour or so using three trains but it was so early that it worked for us. We picked up our boarding passes or we thought we did but luckily Rick looked at them before security screening because they were for Emilie and Josh. Back at the check-in counter the woman realized she had passed our bag onto a plane that we weren’t flying on but thought that if we were related to someone on the plane that she could just report that and it would be okay.
We found Em and Josh, both hungry because their plane meals were cheese based (Will airlines ever understand vegan?) and tired because of the dueling/crying babies on board. (They always seem to travel with crying babies.)
The plane ride was short and we found each other and Rick’s oddly checked bag in Barcelona. While picking up our Barcelona passes a family came to the counter to report that one of their bags had been stolen from their cart and it held all their money and credit cards and their passports. The guide books were clear about the thievery here but that is a often-published warning. Actually seeing it happen made us grab our bags and keep a keen eye out. So far we've been okay and hopefully that family had some insurance or found some kind of immediate help.
The experience with the pay phone to call about our apartment was out of the keystone cops. Put the coin in. Don’t put the coin in. The number dialed. The number didn’t dial. Connect with the person. Fail to hear the person. Go to the apartment and call again. Someone might come. When someone actually did arrive it was a thrill.
The apartment is roomy with 4 bedrooms and a living room and kitchen and tiny balcony but it has no internet, only one wine glass and no salad spinner. The washing machine did make the clothes wet if not clean but it refuses to spin dry so our socks from last week are dripping still and will probably dry tomorrow.
We went out for food and exploration finding wonderful buildings, punks and Goths smoking and laughing, costumed people posing for money on Las Ramblas, a wine store experience with a cheerful and knowledgeable proprietor whose hand signs and smile extended Josh and Em’s Spanish into a conversation and some kind of fire and drum parade that brought out police, ambulances and lots of excited spectators.
Back at the apartment we dunked some tiny bread sticks in chocolate and I started battle with the washing machine. The opening act was washing Rick’s shirt with the Barcelona cards in the pocket. Pressed flat and dried overnight, it still works.
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