Here and There – Spain
Am I really going to write about Spain is a brief four-page blog? It’s a vast and varied country, and for many visitors Spain is about food, festivals and fun, especially with its beach resorts and ‘holiday’ climate. However, in addition to many delights, it contains two extraordinary 20th Century buildings, the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao and The Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família, shortened as the Sagrada Família, in Barcelona. Taken together they represent examples of the most outstanding architecture of recent times, and more than enough to occupy one blog. They couldn’t be more different: one is a temple to modern imagery and materials, the work of Frank Gehry, the other a testimony to religious architecture of the past, a building yet to be completed although it was begun by Antoni Gaudi more than one hundred years ago. Each is, in its own way, not just unique but quite breathtaking.
The Guggenheim Museum has close to a perfect location. It was built alongside the Nervion River, and the sight looking from across the river is close to amazing. The museum’s base is constructed in beige limestone from a quarry near Granada. However, you would be forgiven for not even noticing the stone, as almost the whole building is covered in titanium plates, some 33,000 of them, resulting in a brilliant flashing silver finish, stunning in the sunshine, as often seen in Bilbao. When I first saw the museum from across the water, and despite all the photographs I had seen, I was still delighted and amazed. It was as if a strange creature from outer space had arrived in Bilbao and was resting by the river before moving on. What’s the word? Gobsmacked!!
As an example of contemporary architecture, it has been described as a “signal moment in the architectural culture”, and it was claimed to represent “one of those rare moments when critics, academics, and the general public were all completely united about something”, well, that’s if you believe architectural critic Paul Goldberger! Even if not everyone agrees with Goldberger’s comments, it is frequently named as one of the most important works completed since 1980 in world architecture surveys.
We can thank the initiative of the Basque government for its construction, which approached the Solomon R Guggenheim Foundation in 1991, explaining it would fund a Guggenheim museum to be built in Bilbao’s somewhat rundown port area, no longer in much use by shipping companies. The Basque government agreed to cover the US$100 million construction cost, to create a US$50 million acquisitions fund, to pay a one-time US$20 million fee to the Guggenheim and to subsidize the museum’s US$12 million annual budget. In exchange, the foundation agreed to manage the institution, rotate parts of its permanent collection through the Bilbao museum and organize temporary exhibitions. It cost US$89 million to build, and the museum was opened on 18 October 1997.
I wonder how often a city has the confidence to commission something as daring as the Guggenheim in Bilbao. I suspect it took some courage, and possibly quite a lot of criticism from the residents. If the building comes across as ‘daring’, so were they, and thank goodness they were. Incidentally, in 2008, the Guggenheim Museum Bilbao announced that it was looking into building an expansion in an area to the east of Bilbao, and to date 40 million euros have been contributed toward the expansion. However, let’s stick with the completed museum.
Before I say much about its impact, a little more background. This memorable building includes nineteen galleries, of which ten are rectangular, and distinguishable by their stone exteriors, while the remaining nine are irregularly shaped: these are the ones whose exteriors are distinguished by the swirling shapes and titanium cladding. The largest gallery is huge, 98 × 427 feet. When it opened in 1997 it had more exhibition space than the three Guggenheim collections in New York and Venice combined at that time. The highlight of the collection, (and its only permanent exhibit inside), is The Matter of Time by Richard Serra, a 100-metre-long spiral series of weathered steel sheets, looking somewhat like an ammonite from above.
The other striking work, also permanent, is called Puppy, a sculpture by Jeff Koons. Puppy stands outside the museum building. It is a 43 feet tall topiary sculpture of a West Highland White Terrier. It was originally created in 1992 for an exhibition in Germany. The first version was constructed with a variety of flowers growing on a transparent colour-coated chrome stainless steel substructure. In 1995, Puppy was dismantled and re-erected at the Museum of Contemporary Art in Sydney (located on Sydney harbour) with a new, more permanent stainless-steel structure and an internal irrigation system. While the original version had 20,000 plants, the Sydney version held around 60,000. It was purchased in 1997 by the Guggenheim Foundation and transferred to Bilbao.
Somehow, something by Jeff Koons is likely to create controversy: in this case, not Puppy itself (although I am certain there have been many negative views expressed about the sculpture). However, the drama at the beginning was memorable. Before the dedication of Koon’s sculpture at the museum, an ETA (Basque Homeland and Liberty) trio disguised as gardeners attempted to plant explosive-filled flowerpots, (flowerpots – now that was clever), near the sculpture. They were foiled by a Basque policeman, Jose María Aguirre, who was shot dead by ETA members. Puppy is impressive, but the story is even more so.
The two permanent works are big and memorable. All the other works you see in the museum are there for the duration of specific exhibitions only and change frequently. The result is rather strange. Puppy and the Matter of Time are undeniable drawcards. Whatever else you see is serendipitous, and when I was there, most of the other works on display were good, but not compelling. I was reminded of that sexist but memorable line from the Monks’ song ‘Nice Legs’: “Nice legs, shame about the face”. Outstanding construction, but pallid collections inside. I guess I was there in the wrong month. For sure, Bilbao is not an exciting city: pleasant, enjoyable, but not compelling. The Guggenheim has put it on the map, and that shows the wisdom of the City. A good investment? That is harder to answer, but I suspect Bilbao has seen its tourist revenue grow many times over.
If Bilbao is not an exciting city, the same cannot be said about Barcelona. It is Spain’s second largest city, some 1.5m people (Madrid has around 3m, but Bilbao has only 350K, considerably smaller in size). Barcelona is like a magnet, especially for soccer fans, and full of great sights. There are the two ‘Casas’, fascinating buildings designed by Antoni Gaudí, the Picasso Museum and the Museum of Contemporary Art. There’s the Cathedral, and a swag of shops packed out with the very best in Spanish design. There’s Montjuïc, ‘Jewish Mountain’, the birthplace of the city, the site for the 1929 International Exposition, which led to the construction of Paulau Naacional and the Estadi Olimpic, and now home to the Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya. Best of all, you can visit using the Montjuïc Cable Car.
However, plonked in the middle of Barcelona, just north of the city centre, is the truly amazing Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família, the Sagrada Família. Wonderfully described as the “largest unfinished Catholic church in the world”, the masterwork of Antoni Gaudí, construction began in 1882 (on 19 March), and is now around 80% complete, with it likely the remaining final work will only be finished in 2040. Incidentally, Gaudí died in 1926, and the project is now the responsibility of chief architect Jordi Faulí. Just to complete the dates, it was consecrated by Pope Benedict XVI on 7 November 2010. Starting on 9 July 2017, an international mass is celebrated at the basilica every Sunday and it’s open to the public (until the church is full).
I am not sure I know how to describe this amazing building. Wikipedia advises that the style of the Sagrada Família is variously ascribed to ‘Spanish Late Gothic, Catalan Modernism or Art Nouveau’. It is probably best described as unique Gaudí. Unlike most cathedrals, it is closer to having a square floor plan (but it still has a rectangular footprint). The basic layout is in the form of a Latin cross, albeit with five aisles wide. Wikipedia describes it well “The central nave vaults reach forty-five metres (148 feet) while the side nave vaults reach thirty metres (98 feet). The transept has three aisles. … The crossing rests on the four central columns of porphyry supporting a great hyperboloid [rather like a cone supporting another facing downwards] surrounded by two rings of twelve hyperboloids (currently under construction). The central vault reaches 200 feet). The apse is capped by a hyperboloid vault reaching up 246 feet. Gaudí intended that a visitor standing at the main entrance be able to see the vaults of the nave, crossing, and apse; thus the graduated increase in vault loft.”
Forgive me for taking a bit more from Wikipedia “The columns of the interior are a unique Gaudí design. Besides branching to support their load, their ever-changing surfaces are the result of the intersection of various geometric forms. The simplest example is that of a square base evolving into an octagon as the column rises, then a sixteen-sided form, and eventually to a circle. This effect is the result of a three-dimensional intersection of. Helicoidal columns (for example a square cross-section column twisting clockwise and a similar one twisting counterclockwise). Essentially none of the interior surfaces are flat; the ornamentation is comprehensive and rich, consisting in large part of abstract shapes which combine smooth curves and jagged points. Even detail-level work such as the iron railings for balconies and stairways are full of curvaceous elaboration.” That leaves out mention of the colours used, which are prolific, almost ethereal in some sections, and close to overwhelming.
There’s more. Gaudí’s original design calls for a total of eighteen spires, comprising in height order, the Twelve Apostles, the Virgin Mary, the four Evangelists and, tallest of all, Jesus Christ. Thirteen spires have been built as of 2023. The Evangelists’ spires are surmounted by sculptures of their traditional symbols: a winged bull for St Luke, a winged man for St Matthew, an eagle for St John, and a winged lion for St Mark (the only one I knew). The Church is designed to have three grand façades: the Nativity façade to the East, the Passion façade to the West, and the Glory façade to the South. This last is yet to be completed and is planned to include elements such as the seven deadly sins and the seven heavenly virtues. Visitors won’t be bored!
In case my description hasn’t make this clear, it is the kind of building determined to bring out extreme reactions. I loved it, many hate it. Gaudí was a unique architect. Apparently, historian Nikolaus Pevsner referred to Gaudí’s buildings as growing “like sugar loaves and anthills”, combining ‘bad taste’ with vitality and ‘ruthless audacity’. Others have called the Sagrada Família as the “greatest piece of creative architecture in the last twenty-five years. It is spirit symbolised in stone!” and “a marvel of technical perfection”; even “sensual, spiritual, whimsical, exuberant”. However, George Orwell called it “one of the most hideous buildings in the world”, and a British historian, Gerald Brenan, said “Not even in the European architecture of the period can one discover anything so vulgar or pretentious.” For once I don’t mind being identified with liking something so crazily magnificent!
I have been to other parts of Spain, but Bilbao and Barcelona, the Guggenheim and the Sagrada Família are unlike the rest, where the architecture is familiar grand European style for the major buildings, and the parks and gardens extensive and pleasant. How do we deal with such exceptional monuments like these? A monument, a “a type of structure that was explicitly created to commemorate a person or event, or which has become relevant to a social group as a part of their remembrance of historic times or cultural heritage, due to its artistic, historical, political, technical or architectural importance”. Does the Guggenheim commemorate great art? Does the Sagrada Família commemorate Christian religion? Probably, but each does much more than that. For me, they are statements about innovation, similar perhaps to Apple’s amazing headquarters in Cupertino, California.
However, it is time for a confession. The Guggenheim and the Sagrada Família are two extra-ordinary drawcards in their respective cities. However, they are only one among many places to visit. They are drawcards, offerings to encourage you to visit. However, like many invitations, once you arrive you realise there is so much more to see. In the case of both cities, once I think about them the museum and the church are only one part of what I loved about them.
Bilbao is a low-key city, but it has some delightful streetscapes, and a quite extra-ordinary entrance to the main railway station. It has several museums, including a Museum of Fine Arts with a collection that ranges from early Catalan artists through to El Greco, Goya, Gaugin, and even a Francis Bacon work, and the smaller Next Museum with a collection of Van Gogh works. It has, improbable as it sounds, a ‘garden of light’: the Museo Farolas de Bilbao, which is a collection of streetlights, clustered on a lawn near the Museum of Fine Arts: improbable but curiously compelling! It has the advantage of size. You can wander around the city centre quite easily, as its laid out on a rectangular basis and about a square kilometre in size, just like the centre of Melbourne. Above all, it has food, delicious food, with many small, mouth wateringly inviting, restaurants.
Bilbao can’t compete with Barcelona, which is some six times larger in population, with its 1.5 million residents (and a lot more people in the tourist season, or when the soccer team is playing at home). It’s the capital of autonomous Catalonia, and it is the 20th-most-visited city in the world, ranking seventh in international visitor numbers in Europe. It has beaches, museums, a castle, a cathedral, and a very large number of fancy shops and restaurants, one with a bull poking its head outside! For tourists, one of the most visited places is its popular tree-lined pedestrian street, Las Ramblas. I’ve managed to get there a few times (but only once to Bilbao). If it has a downside, it is that it is packed with tourists in the summer (and in the Spring and Autumn, too). It is just as well as there are other places that Antoni Gaudí designed, as some are much easier to get into than the Sagrada Família.
I am not certain if I can explain why this is the case, but Barcelona, and Bilbao too, are places that feel like home. While some of the architecture is unlike anything in Australia, some of the streetscapes are quite like those in Melbourne. No, not a ‘home away from home’, but a place in which I felt comfortable, much more so than Madrid. If the invitation to visit was the chance of seeing the Guggenheim and the Sagrada Família, both cities are in my ‘top ten’: their city centres are places I could drift around happily for days.
