Valencia - Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències

We are winding down our trip across the Iberian Peninsula with a quick side trip to Valencia. In particular, I am curious to see the Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències by Santiago Calatrava and Félix Candela. In as much as I mistakenly thought of Gaudí as a kind of one-off sculptor as architect, I thought Calatrava was more of an engineer than designer – though it may be Calatrava’s fortune that his Ciutat is separated from the rest of Valencia by the old Turia riverbed park.

Still the shapes and surfaces are so reminiscent of Gaudí that it’s hard to stop reading the paraphrasing. From north to south as we approach them, the complex includes: a concert hall (El Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia, 1995-2005), an IMAX theater and planetarium (L’Hemisfèric, 1996-98), a science museum (El Museu de les Cièncias Príncipe Felipe, 2000), and a performance space (L’Àgora, 2009) – L’Àgora is visually separated from the other three by a cable-stayed bridge, the Pont de Assut de l'Or (2008), with it's surprising curved tower.

 

 

We cannot enter the Palau, but L’Hemisfèric doors are open – butterfly style doors. The interior is remarkably cool despite the abundant sunlight, as the glass “scales” are not sealed, and there is a cool breeze from the wide pools. The detailing, the quality of the light, and the views out are all fascinating.

 

We also enter the Museu, but not the actual science museum area; the side aisle contains the cafe and gift shops, and is open from end to end. Here, the scale, and the shapes of the structure are so reminiscent of Sagrada - even the end structures are reminiscent of the Passion façade.

 

 

Exiting the south end of the Museu, the Pont and L’Àgora come into full view. These act almost as backdrops to the other buildings, as there are no pools or activities to enliven the spaces. We make our way back through L'Umbracle, a lacy structure that frames a long terrace of trees and seating areas, with views out and back to the Ciutat.

 

 

Barcelona - Sagrada Família

I’m trying to think of a way to organize my thoughts about La Sagrada Família (1882-present). My thoughts about Casa Batlló and Casa Mila center on color and surface, and form; so I think I’ll just carry that along. But honestly, there is a level of sensory overload with Sagrada that defies immediate analysis. But this at least allows me to edit the slide show into a single post that doesn’t swamp the internet.

Yesterday we tried to capture the Passion (west-facing) façade, today, we enter through the Nativity (east-facing) façade. Like our previous experience in Siena, we found the “plain” façade first, so the “fancy” façade is a big step up in terms of sheer quantity of stuff. It’s the birth of Christ, and everything is coming to life. There are three kings, lots of animals, bugs, plants – all heralded by musicians with the trumpets raised. It is this façade and the first four towers, that Gaudí actually finished in his lifetime.

 

But the interior is where the architecture comes to life; it feels alive. We enter with the afternoon sun pouring through the Passion side (the “hot” side”), and the aisles are awash in red, yellow, and orange that splash across from the stained-glass to the columns on the Nativity side (the “cool” side).

 

 

 

Unlike at Batlló, the colors are not applied to the surface; the various types of stone used in the columns and the wood are all allowed to be themselves. In fact, aside from some bold typography there is not much in the way of sculpture on the interior of the building itself. But it is the light from outside that is painting the walls and forms here.

 

 

And unlike at Mila, the forms themselves do not stay unadorned. The forms change with the light as the sun passes over the church from east to west. The light is also layered from high to low, like Mila’s light wells, with the clear clerestory glass allowing the canopy to pull in the clean light high above. Meanwhile the partial hyperboloid structures over the aisle function to keep the deepest hues down low, with the diffuse light bouncing, and the stained-glass murals reflecting off the floor.

 

 

 

In the museum we read how this is all as intended, as designed – Gaudí pushed the forms and building technology in order to create a space filled with discrete, changing light, employing an ingenious kind of practical geometry. I’ll admit I always though of Gaudí as an architect who was more about his faith and passion – an "artiste". But he was a true engineer and problem solver of the highest order, and he pushed the builders and engineers of Sagrada to be the same. Just looking at the way the color is stratified, and precisely controlled, within this complex and layered space, I am in awe.

 

 

We leave the temple through the Passion portico, depicting the last days of Christ, in blocky, allegorical forms. The excellent audio guide suggest we find a golden Christ sitting in heaven, on a little bridge between the two pairs of towers facing west.

It’s some of the best architecture I have ever seen.

 

Barcelona - Casa Batlló and Casa Mila

There is a method at work. Yesterday we got a feel for the city, a quick Introduction to Gaudí with his early work at Casa Vicens, and today we become more familiar with Gaudí by seeing his mature work in Casa Batlló and Casa Mila. All the while traversing the L’Eixample for other examples of Modernisme as well as other churches in Barcelona, in preparation for our culminating visit to La Sagrada Família tomorrow.

Our visit to the Casa Batlló (1904-1906) is quite the morning eye-opener. This house is an exercise in color and surface. It’s more difficult (or time consuming) to analyze Batlló, say, from the idea of form. But the way colors and surfaces are presented, there is certainly a system at work. It’s much more rigorous than the “groovy” shapes might imply.

While the exterior sparkles with cascading floral tones, the entry is a cool, deep plunge into green, the surfaces hard and smooth, with bubble-like openings and decorative, linear patterns. You enter a transitional room with a stove to literally warm you, then through to the three rooms fronting the street from the piano nobile, which all share a pink or orange cast. The twisted and wavy ceilings and more “bubbly” transom glass all add the the underwater feel.

  

   

 

 

All the spaces are also connected by the vertical light shaft and stairwell, which has a kind of gradient of warm to cool from bottom to top, in shimmering ceramic textures. Cycling through the rooms, you reach the attic, which is functional and color-less, but full of interesting catenary forms. And the onto the roof, with its chimney caps encrusted with tile-shards. Most intriguing of all is the “dragon’s back”, with high-relief tile “scales” and segmented spine. All the color seems to emanate from this, capturing the light from the sun and spilling it toward the street and into the house.

 

 

At Casa Mila (1906-1910), form takes precedent, though the surface and color work is plentiful here as well. An apartment building rather than a family home, the building requires some repeatability and standardization, but that is moderated by the changing angles when moving from space to space. We also approach the building from top to bottom, so our experience is also inverted. We enter the larger of two light-wells, with the curving stair to the piano nobile, where you sense the layering and rhythm of the forms – like the lapping of waves upward. We take a short ramp down, where we are then offered an elevator ride.

  

 

Surprisingly, the elevator takes us directly to the roof, where we are met by bright sun, and a platoon of other-worldly warriors, in the guise of chimneys, ventilation caps, and stairway enclosures. They march you around, over the multi-level pathway, in search of views of Barcelona – there are two “arches” that frame views of La Sagrada Família and El Sagrado Corázon de Jesus on Mount Tibidabo, while other "troopers" stand guard over the light wells.

 

 

 

 

Entering the building through the attics, you are suddenly inside a dark cavern of catenary rib arches. The folks presenting this building have provided a light and sound show (via the audio tour), as well as an informational display of the methods and materials used in Casa Mile; in the attics, the listeners hear the continuous thrum of a heaving whale.

Small windows pierce the dim baffles, and frame views to the outside, or to the sky with the helmet-shapes on the roof. Arranged about the attic floor are displays of architectural models, furnishings, and video pieces. There is a small display for the ingenious hexagonal floor tiles seen around Casa Batlló, Casa Mila, and well as the Passeig de Gràcia. The attic is a fascinating surprise, but it’s not easy to attribute all of this lovely “spookiness” to Gaudí, as I cannot imagine he expected the tenants to spend much time there.

 

 

The tour continues into an typical apartment, large, well-furnished with period pieces, and properly staged for sale. It ends, as is typical these days, with a series of gift shops. The exit is through the smaller light-well, where there is another subtle light and color show under the canopy of another stairway.

 

 

 

Now, inspired by Gaudí, we head over to La Sagrada Família, as the late-afternoon sun plays on the “Passion Façade”. We are tired, and try not to strain our necks as we take in the dazzling shapes and rhythms. We will return for the interior tomorrow.