Barcelona – Sagrada Familia

The design and construction of the “Basilica and Expiatory Church of the Holy Family” represents one of the longest running and most dramatic architectural sagas of the 20th Century, one that thoroughly entwined its architect, Antoni Gaudi, but at the same time elevated him to one of the best known citizens of Barcelona. Construction of Sagrada Familia commenced in 1882 and Gaudí became involved in 1883, taking over the project and transforming it with his architectural and engineering style, combining Gothic and curvilinear Art Nouveau forms. Gaudí devoted his last years to the project, and at the time of his death at age 73 in 1926, less than a quarter of the project was complete. Today it stands about 10 years from completion of the basic form; and visiting it is an architectural tour, a religious experience, and a construction inspection all wrapped up in one. Coming to it out of the eixample street system immediately overwhelms you.

Interlaced with tower cranes, scaffolding, safety netting and unfinished elements, the unfamiliar forms explode up into the sky where they culminate in strange, organic, colorful tile-covered bouquets.

As you work your way around it, the church presents differing architectural and religious faces to each orientation. There’s been a lot of controversy attached to this variety since a lot of the work has taken place since Gaudi’s death in 1926, some as interpretation of his intentions, some as interpretation more independently.

A surging flow of tourism engulfs the street level, adding another whole dimension to the overall experience – part energy and enthusiasm, part chaos and distraction.

The city is not distracted, though, from the fact that the 2.5 million visitors contribute about 25 million Euros to the construction budget each year that helps to both build the building and manage the tourist tidal wave. Unlike our visit in 2007 we didn’t buy tickets at the building but on-line and received as a receipt an email graphic that could be scanned from a phone when we went through security.

Given all the people involved, the city meters the flow, giving you a scheduled entry time. We spent a short time on the entry terrace where a bronze model made the overall form more comprehensible. Note the wide variety of towers. There are four that are now mostly complete, one each dedicated to Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, the evangelical apostles; but the central Jesus tower has just begun. When complete, it will make Sagrada Familia the tallest church in the world.

Gaudi also included some dramatic, organic sculptures as part of the entry process.

These sorts of exuberant metal forms also show up in many of his other projects.

Finally we enter. It’s an amazing experience. The basic layout of the church follows the traditional cruciform shape that gradually developed out of the original simple basilica;

but after that Gaudi’s vision takes over. He had an extremely complex and detailed set of religious ideas that he wanted to express geometrically and organically, using the obviously tree-like forms to carry the weight of the structure down into the ground. He also had a specific vision for the way in which different colors from the stained glass would enter the building at different times of day.

The color also helps to distinguish the side aisles from the main nave, enhancing the sculptural quality of the experience of moving through the space.

As with most cathedrals the primary movement through the space all takes place on one large level floor. But inevitably there are other functions, such as choir lofts, that also serve to create at least visual movement; and these are reached by stairs woven into the structure that add dynamic spirals to the lines your eyes are following.

It’s possible to experience a limited amount of the upper structure – which of course I did – by riding a tubular elevator up through the tubular framework.

The deal is that you can ride up into one of the towers; but then you have to manage some small bridges and spiral stairs to get yourself back down.

These stairs are open to the elements but sheltered by the eyelid stones that Gaudi included over each of the openings.

The views of the city are dramatic, partly from the height and partly from being framed by the openings available. The photo above shows how green many of the larger avenues are, even in the middle of all that masonry and paving. The view below is of a half-block park directly across from the church. You can also get an idea of the sculpture attached to the basic tower form. Even at this level it’s incredibly detailed, though no one at ground level can perceive or appreciate that.

The stairs are not winder stairs but truly circular – the towers are really two towers each, one within the other, with the stairs located between them. If you lean – or let your camera lean – into the center space, you can look up and down in the core of the tower.

On the left you’re looking up to where the tower tapers to the top; and on the right you’re looking down to a platform supporting lights that illuminate the towers from within. Other views of the adjacent towers and finish details also stand out at this level. Here’s a place where a small bridge connects from one tower to another

And here, some of the organic forms that seem like colored punctuation from below.

It’s all a bit of a maze as well in that it includes brightly colored scaffolding and – on the left – a temporary stair and a stack of counterweight blocks for a crane, all of which will eventually go away. The level of craft, even at this height, is very high. Standing on his specially sized platform this workman is carefully adding the final carving touches to the previously installed stone.

Now in the second stair of my tour, I’m headed down again. As the forms move toward the ground they become more finished, both inside and out.

And the stair moves to the center and becomes a true winder as well.

This follows Gothic tradition in which winder stairs were usually built into the thickness of the walls; but the finesse here is that the very center is open and fluidly carved where the Gothic cathedrals would have had a solid stone column in the center. This route delivered me to a space behind the choir where the effect of the light entering the building was particularly intense and revealing.

It’s a ‘back of the house’ space not normally seen by the public. Finally the stair returned me to the main level, through a decorative metal gate.

This gentleman was making sure no one went UP this way. In other areas, more modern metal stairs have been inserted. I’m not sure of the purpose of each one.

Here is a sense of the nave and side aisle relationship.

And one final look at the main space, now actually used for services.

Gaudi spent the last years of his career working only on this one project. In addition to designing the building, he also created many of the furnishings. He liberally used words as both descriptors and decorative textures in many parts of the building.

The church service furnishings are particularly handsome.

From the exit you can view the studio from which Gaudi produced many of his designs. The building itself also helped the design process – he was constantly working to find ways to build sensual forms from straight elements.

Before leaving we visited the crypt on the lower level. It has been configured to serve as a museum that illustrates the various stages through which the building has gone.

Early studies were often done as charcoal sketches.

Recently one of these sketches was paired with a contemporary computer analysis. Some years ago, structural engineers became concerned that, while the original design had been ingeniously design to carry the weight of all its stone down to the ground, the joints and connections may not have been figured for wind and earthquake loads.

So they figured out ways that additional reinforcing could be included at key junctures. Here’s a look a Gaudi’s model from which he made his basic structural assumptions.

Using wires and strings to represent the basic forms of the building, he built upside-down models and hung weighted bags from the joints to represent the loads from the weight of the stone of the real building. These weights pulled the shapes into catenary curves which Gaudi carefully measured, translated into building dimensions, and then turned rightside-up to achieve the final form. Unlike Gothic arches that require buttresses to prevent collapse, these forms carry the weight directly into the ground at an angle. Once that was resolved, regular architectural models were built to be able to study the forms in detail, though most of them were lost during the Spanish Civil War.

One favorite detail was the palm frond.

Today the design and construction crews still use models; but they’re often computer generated and 3D printed in this shop.

One thing we were impressed by, as we moved through famous sites such as Sagrada Familia, was the amount of effort the Spanish make to help their young people understand their own culture. We saw student tours everywhere we went; and there was one here too.

Finally, a look back at the building that Gaudi actually knew – as opposed to the one that he imagined and designed.

At the time of his death at age 73 in 1926, less than a quarter of the project was complete. He knew, of course, that he would never see it finished; but he was philosophical and is said to have remarked: “My client is not in a hurry.”  After Gaudí’s death, work continued under the direction of Domènec Sugrañes i Gras until interrupted by the Spanish Civil War in 1936. The current director and son of Lluís Bonet, Jordi Bonet i Armengol, has been introducing computers into the design and construction process since the 1980s. Mark Burry of New Zealand serves as Executive Architect and Researcher. Sculptures by J. Busquets, Etsuro Sotoo and the controversial Josep Subirachs decorate the fantastical façades. Barcelona-born Jordi Fauli took over as chief architect in 2012. He announced in October 2015 that construction is 70 percent complete and has entered its final phase of raising six immense towers. The towers and most of the church’s structure are to be completed by 2026, the centennial of Gaudí’s death; decorative elements should be complete by 2030 or 2032.

 

Barcelona – Barri Gòtic

The Barri Gòtic (Catalan for “Gothic Quarter”) is the center of the old city of Barcelona. It is a part of the Ciutat Vella district.

Despite several changes undergone in the 19th and early 20th century, many of the buildings date from Medieval times, some from as far back as the Roman settlement of Barcelona. Remains of the squared Roman Wall can be seen in a variety of locations.

The Barri Gòtic retains a labyrinthine street plan, with many small streets

opening out into squares.

Most of the quarter is closed to regular traffic although open to service vehicles and taxis which makes it a genuine pleasure to be on foot. We had wandered through the district before and enjoyed the sensation of being a bit lost; but since we were last here the city has added some guidance to help with that.

Barcelona, like many cities including Seattle, is experiencing a building boom; and some of that extends into the Barri Gòtic. As an architect I tried to imagine the process of managing a construction project in such confined conditions. Here’s a case where a building has been demolished so a new one can take its place – but in the meantime a weather-proof insulating material had to be sprayed on the neighbor’s party wall.

And in these tight quarters, getting rid of the demolished materials requires a ‘softer’ solution than the steel dumpsters we’re used to at home.

One of the pleasurable parts of walking the district is the amount of variety offered by what I like to call the ‘spaces between’. Sometimes they’re so small and filled with laundry that you wonder that any light gets in at all.

Sometimes the spaces widen for no apparent reason and become a landmark in your mind

In other cases a slightly more formal architectural treatment anchors the space, even though the nature of the housing hasn’t changed substantially.

In a few places – but not too many – landscaping changes the mood entirely.

In others, a contemporary and asymetrical composition changes both your perception of the housing and your experience of moving through it.

Here and there a changes of activities, such as this playground, introduces a whole new set of interactions.

And then a surprise shows up, in this case, in a retail plaza, a bicycle-powered knife sharpener plies his 19th century trade here in the 21st.

As we got closer to the Cathedral and City Hall, the street network lead us to the Santa Caterina Mercado (market). Located in La Ribera, the Mercado de Santa Caterina has been in operation since 1848.  It’s one of 39 markets located in separate neighborhoods around the city. Our walk brought us to the rear entrance, adjacent to some new housing.

The big tile-covered roof adds a big dynamic shift to the medieval character of the old city.

Inside, the swooping forms certainly gave this market a different flavor than the others we had seen elsewhere in the city, though the presentation of the food itself was not unusual. I suspect that the average shopper paid only a little attention to the roof.

The front of the market, facing on to a long plaza leading to the Cathedral, tells the story. In a flamboyant Catalan gesture, the architects Enric Miralles and Benedetta Tagliabue, draped this colorful tile wave roof over an historic building facade.

With a freedom that we found in many parts of Barcelona, they combined old and new in a way that makes you appreciate and helps you enjoy the character of each.

The plaza leading from the market to the Cathedral (and then the City Hall) was yet another of the modern pedestrian spaces in an historic setting that also dealt with the issue of where to put the cars. It’s an interesting lesson in design choices. The ramp to the parking is obvious in the photo below because I’ve chosen an obvious viewpoint.

But when you’re there, the treatment is so self-effacing, and the use of materials so consistent with the people environment that you don’t give it a lot of attention. The one-story glass structure on the right holds stairs and escalators. It’s also contemporary but not in-your-face; so you tend to take it in as street furniture. And the major part of the plaza, where events are held, sits beyond both of these elements so that they really don’t come into play. Here’s a group performing a traditional Catalan dance that they do here on Sundays for themselves and to show off a well-known element of Catalan life.

It’s a circle dance (or circles in circles) called a Sardana, with a very simple basic step and a few subtle variations, accompanied by a small orchestra, a cobla, a band consisting of 10 wind instruments, double bass and a tambori (drum). Originally a 16th century peasant dance, it became associated with the Catalan independence movement and now acts as a symbol of Catalan life.

The cathedral in the background is a bit misleading, in that in the late 19th century, a neo-Gothic façade was constructed over the nondescript exterior that was common to Catalan churches. Inside, the character is simpler.

The Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia , also known as Barcelona Cathedral, is the Gothic cathedral and seat of the Archbishop of Barcelona, Spain. The cathedral was constructed from the 13th to 15th centuries, with the principal work done in the 14th century.

There are plenty of rich and well-crafted materials; but not the over-the-top use of gold that we saw in Toledo. It may have something to do with Catalan restraint.

The cloister was completed in 1448.

Some parts of the floor serve as burial sites with simple strong symbols carved into the surface of the stone covers.

The cloister also encloses the Well of the Geese (Font de les Oques)

The geese are associated with some religious event in the cathedral’s past and get their own pool and fountain and run of the cloister as a result.

I always forget, until pleasantly reminded, that we’re in the Mediterranean, where tropical plants such as palm trees grow comfortably.

The roof is notable for its gargoyles, featuring a wide range of animals, both domestic and mythical. I didn’t have scaffolding available to be able to seem them, unfortunately; but I did get to enjoy some of the vistas from the roof walkway. This one stretches from Barcelonetta on the left to Montjuic on the right, both places we visited during our stay.

The ever-under-construction Sagrada Familia by Gaudi could also be seen.

I’ll give that its own blogpost later.

Down from the cathedral we made our way to the edge of the Barri Gòtic where the street grid opens up again

and brings the Mercat del Born into view.

Mercat del Born is a former public market and one of the most important buildings in Barcelona, Catalonia, Spain constructed with iron. Located in the lower and eastern side of the la Ribera neighborhood, it is the largest covered square in all of Europe and marked the start of Modernisme in Catalan architecture.

The market was designed in 1873 by the municipal architect Antoni Rovira i Trias (who also designed the Mercat de Sant Antoni) and built between 1874 and 1878 by master builder Josep Fontserè i Mestre and engineer Josep Maria Cornet i Mas. The structure of cast iron columns and metallic horses was fabricated by La Maquinista Terrestre i Marítima. The market came into operation in 1878 and was in use as the central market in town until 1971. At that point it fell into disuse for a number of years as its functions were replaced by smaller markets closer to the neighborhoods they served. Eventually, the city decided to convert the structure to a library; but in doing some exploratory excavations, came upon extensive ruins of the medieval city. It was then decided to preserve the ruins and move the library project to another location.

Currently, the market covers these archaeological ruins which were part of the la Ribera district that was demolished in the early eighteenth century after the defeat of Catalonia in the War of Succession in 1714. This portion of la Ribera was forcibly demolished to make way for the construction of the Ciutadella military structure as ordered by the new Spanish king, Philip V. The plan that finally came to fruition in 2013 was to expose the subterranean ruins for visitors, showing in effect, the foundations of the vibrant Catalan culture that had grown up there, illustrated here.

The plan would also preserve space around the museum for mixed use, cultural activities.

The market/museum makes use of very contemporary techniques for explaining the partially excavated historic city. Some of this is handsome printed material that shows the previous use (upper left), design of the building (upper right), relation to the old fort (lower right, red), and an illustration of a housing plan (lower left) that can be seen there, including individual stones in walls and pavings as recorded by archeologists.

Other techniques bring us into the digital age where video, scripted and/or in real time, can be used to clarify what the viewer is seeing.

 

 

In a couple of places they found that major waterways flowed through the area.

Some of the exhibits take the form of artwork to convey a more humanist flavor.

And then if all of this information wears you down, good museums handle that by providing a convenient and inviting space to take a break.

Finally, it is now possible for pedestrians to pass freely from Passeig del Born through to the other side that leads to the park of Ciutadella, so that the  building becomes a conduit rather than an obstruction in the cityscape.

Finally, since we’ve looked at a couple of markets, I’ll include one more, La Concepcion.

This market is outside the Barri Gòtic, in the beginning of the Eixample or expansion area of the city that took place in the late 19th century to provide for the city’s then exploding growth. The Eixample is characterized by long straight streets, a strict grid pattern crossed by wide avenues, and square blocks with chamfered corners (named illes in Catalan, manzanas in Spanish). This was a visionary, pioneering design by Ildefons Cerdà, who considered traffic and transport along with sunlight and ventilation in coming up with his characteristic octagonal blocks, where the streets broaden at every intersection making for greater visibility, better ventilation and (today) some short-stay parking space. Along with this street planning approach, a public market was located in each major neighborhood, a system that continues today in 39 individual markets around the city. La Concepcion Market was a few blocks from our hotel on our first visit to Barcelona.

The market runs the full depth of the block; and we were initially drawn in by the displays at the floral end on the street opposite to the one above.

These invite you to explore further

As you can see the structure has been crafted of steel frames that were in vogue in the late 19th century and part of the ‘modernista’ architectural movement at the time. The goods offered for sale are what you would expect at any good farmers’ market.

And as you can see, they are actively engaged with current ‘green’ and organic movement. At the other end we were surprised. Here, next to the ramp leading to the fresh foods,

openings to the lower level reveal an entire supermarket of bottled and packaged foods, paper goods, household products, and even (above) washers and dryers. When you read about the current market organization, it turns out that they periodically survey their customer base and then shift directions accordingly so as to keep the market inventories current and attractive. What a concept for city living !

Next time, a tour of some of the work of Antoni Gaudi, including Sagrada Familia.

 

 

 

Pamplona – San Sebastián

We decided to be ‘just tourists’ for a day and visit the coastal vacation city of San Sebastián, about an hour’s bus ride north of Pamplona. This Wikipedia aerial gives a good sense of its setting on the Bay of Biscay with its famous La Concha beach in the foreground and the Urumea river and second beach to east.

I would give you some of the history of this area; but after reading it I don’t think I can summarize it in any coherent fashion – what a chaotic life these people have led, right up to the end of the 20th century.

If you’re interested:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/San_Sebastián

Our trip started out by climbing through the mountains north of Pamplona, one of the most beautiful rides we had in our time in Spain.

We’re used to seeing more logging than farming up in our mountains; so these fields and small villages added a wonderfully pastoral quality to the rugged terrain.

We arrived in San Sebastián along the Urumea River,

but quickly ducked down into a just-opened underground bus terminal, similar to but smaller than the one in Pamplona.

I’m not sure how they arrived at the central structure design; but it did a nice job of letting daylight down into the station in an interesting way. Notice that both the angled steel columns and concrete beams above are spiraling out from the center. This mirrors the way in which the buses park around the perimeter as well.

The route to the riverwalk is pretty straightforward, first to a mezzanine level,

and then by ramp to grade, where a man on a horse assures you that you’ve safely arrived.

I liked the way they handled the entry graphics for the garage as well – in this case as perforated metal. Later in the day I saw some perforated concrete walls that were also an attractive way to handle a large surface.

Both sides of the river have relatively new walks along the edges; and while they vary in space and level of development, they’re generally welcoming places to walk.

Almost immediately, you cross across the river and into the main part of the city.

Early in the morning there wasn’t a lot going on in this part of town so we headed towards the La Concha beach. Had we not already had our coffee we would have stopped at one of these cafes or dining pavilions (and I wondered, again, why we don’t see this at home)

One approach to the beach took us through an historic arch – nice touch

Near the beach we crossed a new bikeway system. It runs all along the beach as well as along both sides of the river. We didn’t get to see how far it goes beyond that.

The view along the beach  is grand, here looking west

The view to the north features the headland at the entrance to the harbor.

The hill in the foreground on the right is actually an island that provides a certain amount of protection from the ocean; but there is no real breakwater, so there must be occasional tidal surges and high tides that cover the beach. The third view, to the east below, focuses on another hill, where an early fortress was located.

We didn’t go all the way to the top; but we did work our way through that part of town and up to the fortress.

The contrast between historic and present day construction couldn’t have been clearer.

While the results are not always happy architecturally, I appreciate that they are actively living with their historic city and not just turning it into a museum. As shown on the right, it must take both patience and skill to build things in these settings. This route took us past St Mary’s church, nicely framed by its setting,

and then by the San Telmo Museoa which we didn’t go in.

I really liked the wall treatment, shown above as a type of green wall, and below as just a perforated texture.

If you spend a little time with it, you can see that some of the panels are repeat patterns; but there are enough unique ones and enough variations in orientation, that the overall effect is one of endless variation. Around the corner, the roadway to the fortress climbs steeply; so there were a lot fewer tourists exploring up here.

There’s a glimpse of the river and second beach just before the entrance to the fort.

And a clearer view from up on the fort walls themselves.

A fairly serious breakwater protects the beach and mouth of the river; but you can see in the photo that major swells still get pumped upriver. That’s a convention and entertainment facility on the right, designed by Rafael Moneo.

Above the fort they were flying the Basque flag – in this part of the world being Basque, as distinct from being French or Spanish, is a big deal, even if we’re actually in Spain.

We clambered along paths on the side of the hill to the end near the mouth of the harbor from which we could more clearly see the island in the center of the inlet.

Below us, leading back into the harbor, the city has built an expansive harbor walk.

As can be seen above, you can drive around and park and there’s a well-marked bike path. When the walk comes to the local aquarium, the path goes down closer to the water. You can see there’s also an elevator in the background.

This gives a better sense of how the fishing boats fit into the picture.

Working our way back around the harbor, we re-entered the center part of town, passing some really handsome traditional housing along a pedestrian street,

past a linear park with bandstand not far from the river,

and through an arcade on our way to the part of town where the cathedral was located.

Walking around in this city today, it’s impossible to imagine that only 25-30 years ago there was political and economic turmoil here. The cathedral sits in its own modern plaza.

We explored the inside but only briefly. I’m calling it Calm Gothic.

Outside we found the now seemingly ubiquitous plazas with housing, restaurants and outdoor seating ringing the cathedral on three sides.

And once again, if you look closely on the right side, you can see the low wall that screens the ramp that leads to the underground parking that makes all this pedestrian space possible. As you can see below, the ramp doesn’t take up plaza space, and it’s also narrow enough to leave room for sidewalks and shopping on both sides.

With four stories of housing above, there’s enough density here to provide all the people enjoying pintxos and beer at the end of their day. What’s not to like about this way of life? (I don’t know how all this works politically and economically. There has to be a willingness to give up some streets and to pay for some underground garages; but that willingness has obviously been available. Must be socialism.)

From the cathedral area we made our way back to the river and walked along it a ways, crossed over and returned to the bus stop. The buildings are evidence that at some point wealthy people invested in development along the river. Today it’s not clear whether these buildings are mostly apartments and condos; but I suspect that is the case.

They’re set back quite a ways from the river – probably a planning precaution against flooding when the district was established – leaving room for automobiles, bicycles, pedestrians, and landscaping – pretty civilized balance.

Farther down, where housing had not for some reason been built, space was provided for a small park and playground.

Farther yet and across the river, more modern housing prevailed.

It also benefited from a walkway along the river, and as a bonus, this time the road was on the other side of the buildings so the walking and biking were more peaceful.

This path led us back to a now familiar landmark,

and nearby to our bus station and ride back to Pamplona.

The next morning we packed up early, took the bus to the Pamplona train station,

where we said good-bye to Pamplona – or Iruna in Basque

Next stop – Barcelona !