Month: October 2016

Being so close . . .

When planning our trip to northern Spain, it occurred to us to wonder how far off the beaten path we would find the famous Paleolithic cave paintings. As it turned out, not far. From Bilbao, we rented another car and headed west towards the mountains, making for Altamira, El Castillo, and La Moneda.
El Castillo (the Castle) and La Moneda (the Money) are minutes away from each other along a mountain path. La Moneda is mostly interesting for its rock formations, but El Castillo contains the oldest known cave art in Europe (at over 40,000 years old). They are discs and stencils of hands made by blowing pigment onto the rock surfaces. There’s also representational art in the cave, although it is a little more recent (but, not much). We were impressed with the skillfulness of the execution and how the artists incorporated the naturally occurring contours of the rock surface into the compositions. The back or stomach or haunch of the animal wouldn’t actually be drawn, for example, but the artist would enhance the animal form one might see in the rock contours by using pigment to fill in the “missing” elements of the design.

The most (justifiably) famous Spanish cave is Altamira. It is open only to a few visitors who are chosen by lottery in order to conserve the artwork. In fact, we met two young men during our visit of El Castillo, one of whom had been fortunate enough to have been chosen to go into the cave. His friend showed us a video showing how visitors are suited up in what look like hazmat suits for their tours. However, a “Neocave” has been built that is a faithful, life-size replica of the cave and the paintings, visits to which are controlled with timed tickets. There’s also a sizable display covering cave art and other early human topics that could take most of a day to thoroughly consume.

Altamira’s art was produced at different eras ranging from 36,000 years ago to 13,000 years ago. It was the areas further into the cave (rather than closer to the entrance) that were used for the paintings. To Jim’s question why the cave walls and ceiling weren’t smudged with soot from the fires or torches used to see inside the caves, the guide at El Castillo explained that animal fats were used for lighting because they burned much cleaner than wood and didn’t produce that kind of smoke. To make the paintings, the artists used charcoal and ochre (iron oxide). They are very cleanly and precisely rendered, so that it’s clear that the painters must have practiced extensively elsewhere before committing their art to the cave walls and ceilings.

Being already in Cantabria, how could we not visit one of the small towns in the hills?
We chose the one Sartre called the prettiest town in Spain in one of his novels (it’s amazing the research promotional people do), Santillana del Mar.
We even managed to have a nice lunch, after once again confirming that we couldn’t find anywhere to eat lunch that opened earlier than 1:00 (we must confess to never fully adapting to Spanish dining hours).
And we visited the town’s Romanesque church and (no longer functioning) monastery before making our way to our house in the countryside.
A house along a lane in a tiny farming village

In the midst of fields with the pungent smells of country life

A house we couldn’t find without first rendezvousing with our host at the bar along the “main” road and following her along a narrow lane to the edge of the village.

Where Amanda put together a meal for us with ingredients purchased in the nearest town, including hake cut to her order by the fish monger in the supermarket, and fresh figs just pulled from the tree in the garden.

Knowing of our interest in food and plan to next visit San Sebastián, our host pushed us to drive into the city of Santander for lunch, as she maintained that the food was just as good and cost half of what we would pay in San Sebastián.

So, we took the plunge and had a great meal

At a restaurant that hands out a little dictionary with the names of foods in eight languages. We think we’ll keep it!

 

Bilbao and the Beginning of the Basque Country

Let’s face it, most people come to Bilbao to see the Frank Gehry designed Guggenheim Museum.
And to groan at the huge flower covered dog
Created by (it’s not hard to guess) Jeff Koons.

That was certainly the case when we planned the trip with our friends Philip and Catherine.

After all, it is a beautiful thing to behold.
And provides oodles of visual interest along the river in the heart of the city.
It has also done a remarkably effective job in spurring the revitalization of this mountain-wrapped, industrial port city (founded in 1300) that is the gateway to Basque Country.
The recently spruced up market, further along the river by the old part of the city, is also a great place to feast on tapas or pintxos (in Basque). Sitting in a common area, you check out the wares at the different vendors and try different plates of extravagant compositions. There are lots of anchovies.
Wandering the city has its own visual rewards. This last imposing looking palace was, in fact, a palace. Philip and Jim walked in and talked with the guard who explained that the building houses the official presence of Spain in the city. Hmmm. We understand that both the Basque territory (comprised in a few different provinces) and Catalonia have more autonomy than other provinces.
We also visited the Basque museum where this iconic representation of Basque identity is given pride of place. Looks kind of like a . . . some kind of a . . . boar (?) with a disc. It’s known as the Mikeldi and is from the Iron Age.
The museum features displays on the seafaring and shepherding life of the Basque (who curiously have a cultural center in Boise, Idaho where many Basque seem to wind up). This wolf trap was easier to understand in a museum with signage only in Basque and Spanish. It was also grimly interesting.
But, back to that art theme suggested by the Guggenheim – don’t expect a lot of art inside Mr. Gehry’s sculptural tour-de-force. For one thing, the design doesn’t allow much interior exhibit space (although there are some interesting installations that make a visit worthwhile). To see art in Bilbao, all you need to do is go next door to the art museum where the collection is varied and of a very high quality. We enjoyed it quite a bit, especially because we saw artists with whom we weren’t as familiar, such as Joaquin Sorolla (the scene of Granada in the last photo).

The ceramicist Francisco Durrio

Dario de Regoyas

And some interesting pieces from the 15th and 16th centuries. Something for everyone. By the way, the enormous painting of the matador by Ignatio Zuloaga is on loan from the Hispanic Society of America. Interesting.

No, Picasso’s Guernica is not in Bilbao. Having lived its own life in exile until it was reluctantly returned by the MoMA to Spain under the terms of Picasso’s will, it is now installed in its own gallery in Madrid. However, the art museum in Bilbao (not far from the town of Guernica, “Gernika” in Basque) maintains a fascinating exhibit of a number of Picasso’s sketches for the work, as well as other anti-war art, including some pieces inspired by Picasso’s work.

These included an untitled painting by Jackson Pollack from 1951 in a size (roughly 12″x15″) we weren’t used to seeing from him.
In yet another proof of the theory of “six degrees of separation,” we later met an American (Frank, or “Patxo”) in a cooking class in San Sebastián (or “Donostia” in Basque) whose mother hid in an orchard during the attack on Guernica by Italian Fascist and Nazi German warplanes (at the request of Franco and the Spanish Nationalists).

A Day on the Mountain of Montserrat

Getting to the Abbey of Santa Maria de Montserrat has an element of drama. We started with a metro ride to the train station, then a train to the cable car station, and finally a ride up the mountain in the little yellow box.

It affords a good view. “Montserrat” is, of course, “serrated mountain” and its name seems apt enough.
There are also funiculars and a cog railway. Apparently, there is also a road. Whether that affords more or less of a sense of adventure we couldn’t say without checking it out. It does seem like cheating, though.

The Benedictine monastery was founded in the 10th century and still has over 150 monks in residence. We didn’t see any.

The Abbey has played an important role in the religious and political life of Catalonia. In more recent times, the monks were persecuted during the Civil War by Republican forces and then also persecuted by Franco given their ties to Catalan separatists and left wing politics and habit of providing sanctuary.

In a basilica partly built into the mountain, the Virgin of Montserrat is the principle attraction for both the curious and the faithful.

(Thank you to Wikipedia for the image.)
She is a likely-Romanesque statue of Mary holding an infant Jesus with blackened skin, known as the Black Madonna or La Moreneta. Various legends are attached to the statue, including that it was carved during the early days of the Church in Jerusalem and spirited away for safe keeping in the 8th century. Even in the middle of October there was a long line as people made their way along a passageway that led behind the altar to an elevated area overlooking the interior of the church. There the Madonna was behind glass, except for her hand which can be touched or kissed in veneration.
After mailing a postcard, it was down the mountain and back to Barcelona.

 

Miro, Picasso & the Essence of Catalonia

It is that white star in a blue triangle that changes the Catalan flag into a separatist flag. You see them often, as it had been our intent to visit the two regions of Spain that don’t really want to be a part of Spain: Catalonia and the Basque Country.
Barcelona has long been the vibrant heart of Catalonia. It’s currently one of the “it” cities of Europe, full of energy and personality. It was that cultural energy that drew 15 year old Pablo Picasso to Barcelona in 1896 from his native Malaga and kept him anchored to Spain as he maintained residences in both Barcelona and Paris until his self-exile in 1939 when Francisco Franco prevailed in the Spanish Civil War (remember Picasso’s 1937 painting of Guernica?). From exile he donated hundreds of his early works and some works of his final years (The Pigeons series) to a dedicated Picasso museum in Barcelona which Franco forbade to bear Picasso’s name. Picasso never saw the museum because he died before Franco met his own end. Our visit (no photographs allowed) was somewhat disappointing. The early works clearly show his gifts, but the collection somehow seemed as if it were comprised of all the paintings that didn’t sell. So, it was interesting, but not inspiring.
We went up to the Monjuic neighborhood to visit the Joan Miro Foundation out of a sense of obligation to check out another museum dedicated to another acknowledged modern master, even though we had low expectations. We had a different kind of experience. We liked it. This 1919 painting (Miro was 26) of the village of Mont-roig captures Miro’s interest in primitivism, his Catalan roots, nature and the objects of everyday life.
From there on the canvas continues to loosen.
Miro often thought of his art as “anti-painting,” although he also said: “I make no distinction between painting and poetry.”

He was fascinated with body language and graffiti. He was also influenced by Japanese art and the approach to calligraphy characterized by rapid execution following a period of intense concentration. He visited Japan a couple of times, as well as the United States where he met with the abstract expressionists, including Pollack.

The beauty of the Miro Foundation museum is that it actually does provide such as wide perspective on his work that you begin to have the illusion that you understand him.

From the Miro Foundation we walked over to the National Art Museum of Catalonia with its commanding view of the city (hi, Catherine!).

Among other things, the Catalan museum houses the preeminent collection of Romanesque Art in Europe, featuring murals and panels from rural Catalan churches from the 11th – 13th centuries. In the early twentieth century, a mass purchase of the art was being orchestrated by American institutions. The Catalan government stepped in and organized a conservation effort to preserve them for Catalonia.

It’s again a very impressive collection that, makes you reassess how you feel about an entire epoque in art.

Our heads filled with art, we headed down towards the Placa d’Espanya
And the heart of Barcelona.

 

The Modernist Masterpieces of Barcelona

It was thanks to a street demonstration (no one could tell us why) that we had a view of two of the modernist masterpieces of Barcelona, unobstructed by trucks, buses or cars whizzing by.

Nearby our apartment in the Eixample neighborhood, on Passeig de Gracia, two masterpieces of Antoni Gaudi (on the right) and Joseph Puig i Cadafalch stand side by side. The ubiquitous “A’s” in the Puig window ornamentation commemorates his client, the Amattler family. Two doors down, but difficult to photograph, is a gorgeous house by Lluis Domenech i Montaner (otherwise, well-represented, below).

We toured Gaudi’s La Pedrera, an apartment building whose current tenants must tolerate large crowds gathering out front and touring parts of the building and the roof, where functional components continue to get the Gaudi treatment.

From the roof, Gaudi’s most famous work, La Sagrada Familia, can be seen under construction (as always) in the distance.

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The exterior of the cathedral has a few artistically restrained features.

But, not many. The exterior is exuberant beyond description and a reminder of how we got the English word “gaudy.”

The interior, on the other hand, is an intensely spiritual space, even though packed with hundreds of awestruck tourists craning their necks, transfixed by the magic.

The soaring verticality of the space fulfills Gaudi’s vision of the interior as being like a woods to invite prayer, introspection and the taking of the Eucharist. Both inside and out, every detail has a meaning, every architectural feature a liturgical or religious significance. The central tower represents Jesus, four towers surrounding it represent the gospels, when completed (projected for 2026, nearly 150 years after construction commenced) there will be 12 towers representing each of the apostles. You can’t help but feel that Gaudi has created a temple without equal in reflecting the magnificent nature of God. It is no still small voice. It is the heavens opening wide in their glory.

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Barcelona’s temple of music is the Palao de la Musica. We took a short taxi ride there from our apartment for a performance of flamenco music and dance by a troupe from Malaga.

The Palau de la Musica was designed by Lluis Domenech i Montaner, another master of Catalan Modernisme.

As with most of the modernist architecture we saw, the ornamention on each surface (for instance, each pillar or column) is unique and designs are not repeated.

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Inside the hall, performers should be happy that the lights are turned down. Otherwise, patrons would be distracted by the dizzying array of what there is to see. Fortunately, the performance was quite good. The low wooden platform accentuated the percussion from the performers’ feet.

Back in 1401 the Barcelona’s Consell de Cent (“Council of One Hundred”) merged six hospitals into one to improve the free care provided to the city’s poor as the Hospital de la Santa Creu. By the turn of the 20th century, the facilities had become inadequate and a wealthy banker (Pau Gil) stepped up with a very large donation and a commission to Lluis Domenech i Montaner to design a new hospital to modern standards. His only demand was that the hospital be renamed to honor his patron saint, Saint Paul, so that it is now the Hospital de la Santa Creu i Sant Pau. Of course, the architect did frequently include the donor’s initials as decoration. We didn’t mind.

The hospital is comprised of many individual buildings linked by tunnels. The buildings are absolutely beautiful.

They have also been restored in an ongoing project.

By the turn of the 21st century, it was clear that the hospital was again inadequate. It had been designated a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1997, but it was time to move. In fact, the hospital continued to serve as a hospital until 2008 when a new hospital opened that had been built on a portion of the same large tract of land originally set aside.

So, now the hospital is a museum with spaces that can also be rented out for functions. It’s new on the tourist circuit, but well worth a visit, as is Barcelona for its architectural treasures alone.

A Dali Day

Salvador Dali had a special fondness for his birthplace of Figueras and a seaside resort, nestled like a forgotten land protected from the outside by precipitous drops along the edges of innumerable switchbacks, the small city of Cadaques where he made his home with his beloved Gala. After driving all the way to Cadaques the previous day, we backtracked to Figueras to look for him at the Dali Theater and Museum, a project founded and created by the man himself.

You can find Dali by looking for eggs.

The “and Theater” was not an error. Our Day with Dali led to respect for his genius as a self-promoting provocateur who was also exceptionally talented. His art is massively entertaining with layers of symbols and meaning. And, by the way, he’s buried in a very traditional crypt beneath the theater, being a devout Catholic.

Confused? Taking in the works Dali chose for his museum is mind boggling. They exhibit an incredibly restless exuberance that can’t seem to be either contained or adequately expressed. The place fairly bursts apart and is packed with curious visitors (even in October) as they make their way, trying to comprehend Dali.

And then there’s more. Jewelry, including a pulsating heart.

So it was back over the mountains to find the heart of the matter, where Salvador and Gala called home,

A comfortable one-bedroom place by the sea,

Where he left us plenty of eggs,

And enigmatic images,

To ponder.

After we left the Dali home, we explored the coast

And then walked down into Cadaques in the midst of a torrential downpour

To take a look at the route we drove on first coming into town. And, yes, the street is completely submerged in the surf and the red Audi drove through it.

 

Passing Through Girona

People have been passing through Girona for thousands of years: the Iberians, the Romans, the Visigoths, the Moors, and then a tussle back and forth with the entry of Charlemagne in 785 when he made it one of the 14 original counties of Catalonia. Of course, the Moors came crashing back in 793 and it was one siege and sack after another until 1492 when, in addition to expelling the Moors from Spain, the substantial Jewish community of Catalonia was also expelled, although the Jewish quarter of Girona would continue to be called the Jewish quarter. Now, of course, Catalan and Spanish are both spoken and many Catalans would like to sever ties with Spain. This is where we began our exploration of northern Spain.

The old city is a delightful area to wander.

The Cathedral and Cloister were the site of a Roman forum and of a mosque before being dedicated as a cathedral. Indeed, Roman fortifications remain.

The highlight of the Treasury is the 11th Century Tapestry of Creation of couched needlework in wool. Christ Pantocrator (in Eastern iconography) is in the center, surrounded by various themes, including those of the creation and of the seasons.

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The primary purpose of our stop over in Girona was, of course, lunch.

Properly fortified, we explored the Roman ruins and old city walls to enjoy the views before hitting the road again.