There are fairly few events in my life that qualify as tale-worthy. To be that, an event has to involve elements of surprise, unexaggerated loveliness, and a larger social context than myself as an individual. One such event is when i stumbled upon the Sagrada Familia. Well, not upon the steps of that church, precisely, but upon the gravel walk that bordered the bit of greenery abutting the metro station opposite the church. This is how it came about, unembellished.
Gaudi – I knew little of this man before i came to Barcelona. My first week in town was spent with nothing happening to change that status quo. And then, i heard someone speculate, casually, upon how the Sagrada Familia would look if it were to be finished and how long it would possibly take to finish it. On inquiring about the edifice, i was told to check it out for myself. And it remained at that. I did not look out for the church and it did not present itself to me beyond an occasional glimpse at a spire. Then, one day, i forgot my route to the metro station and found myself walking into a garden square, too crowded for that time of the morning. I had just walked towards the metro sign i had come across, when I looked up as though called to attention by someone above, and there it was in front me, the unfinished church looking sombre against the gray autumn sky. I crossed the street, agape with wonder, and sat down on the balustrades of the porch outside. The religious sombre (sombriety? i dont like sombreness), the generously proportioned architecture, were all to be expected from a catholic monument. I had seen enough of that in pictures and shows, and in our temples. The Sagrada Familia was unique though, it was organic. It grew off the land it stood upon, a living entity. Not for this church were the precise geometrical shapes and patterns of the architecture-d and designed chapels. This was a case of breathing life into stone, literally. And I could stop wondering about when it would grow to completion, it probably never would, and yet always was complete. These were just the initial thoughts i could catch by their tails as they flitted past the central weight of my emotion, a mixture of surprise and joy. I sat there for an hour nearly, taking my time adjusting to the idea of this being a monument designed by man, rather than a structure that grew like stalactite out of the ground, shaping itself with the heat of a man's religious fervour. After a while, when i'd gotten used to the general shape of the structure, i perceived the somewhat finer details, the figures of biblical characters and scenes that were present on the facade i was looking at. Though i was unfamiliar with the scenes themselves, the details were stunning. There were flowers and little fingers and smiles and lace on veils. All of this clear from way my seat on the porch, and much more than i could ingest in that period of time. I still haven't been inside the church, and i don't think ill be sated with the view from outside for a while to come. So, for now, i remain an admirer from afar. That was the tale of my first encounter with Gaudi.
Last month, I attended the official inauguration ceremony of my masters programme, which was held at La Pedrera, another of Gaudi's designs. This time i knew something of what to expect from the man, and was able to identify the building without having precise directions to the place. It was a bulging building at a wide junction of roads, looking like the head of a many-eyed monster. Every pillar or edge was waving about, and every pattern on the front gate was straight and geometrically accurate. Gaudi was again playing with natural laws of belongingness, the ceilings were sculptured and the walls were simply white. I did not get to see the inside of this building either, since the programme went on till late and the more interesting interiors of the building were closed for visitors by then. But what i retained was a sense of almost remonstrating with the man who designed stone like it were string, like the mother of a child who just cut his knee while scoring a goal for his team at school – that same sense of admonishing pride.
The first day of this new year, after days spent in ennui and languor, i stepped out vigorously into the sunny streets for a shy at Parc Guell, the park complex Gaudi designed as living quarters for the rich of the day. It was built on Mount Carmel, and is a sprawling park with some buildings in it. The entrance to the park has a two gingerbread houses with icing topped chimneys, on either side. Everything from the walls to the signs on the outside saying Parc Guell look like they've been made out of chipped ceramic patterned cutlery. This is called 'trencadi' and it makes for decor as cheerful and bright as befits a gingerbread house. But the genius that is Gaudi, doesnt stop at the unique cheerfulness of this decor and say, “there we go, that makes for an interesting enough building”. He makes this design just a tool for conveying the real architectural character of the place. Everything in the main entrance and the hall and terrace are designed like La Pedrera, in wavy sinuous structures; and there sits a Spanish guitar player in the center of hall, sending forth sounds of Lagrima and then a very spanish sounding waltz. I have read and seen pictures of the terrace, with its serpentine balcony and am wondering how to get there. The path is unlike anything i could've imagined. There are tree trunks growing up to support a typically mountainous path, sloping upwards and onto the terrace area. There is a balustrade for the balcony like structure, along the path, looking like branches or extensions of those trunks themselves. Though ofcourse, they aren't tree trunks, but stone, looking to all reason like they sprung up into those supporting branches naturally, at the call from that architect. These are the most romantic walkways ive seen in my life, and words fail me as i try to describe them. May be this will convey more, but i must add, the pictures don't entirely capture the grandeur and moving beauty of those structures.
There too, the ceilings of these viaducts were decorated with shapely stalagmites and picturesque undulations. In places where there were no tourists around, i simply went hugging the trunks and smiling beatifically at it all.
The balcony did not disappoint, in-spite of the crowds gathered there. The sinusoidally shaped bench all along the terrace was superbly comfortable to park ones behind on. I don't how to put that more tastefully, but i think it was brilliant of Gaudi to think of the practical comfort of the people who would sit on that bench, shows a sense of grounded-ness thats surprising conjoined with the fantasy that is Parc Guell. I walked further up that mountain, enjoyed some solitude amidst the trees and the birds, explored around for the local flora and fauna, and came back down to the gates to bid adieu for the nonce, certain that my year had begun well.
PS:I am glad i did not have to take recourse to pictures to convey the sense of the place, except for those indescribably beautiful viaducts. But to complete the picture of the place, maybe this will help http://www.greatbuildings.com/buildings/Park_Guell.html
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