Ballast and String
Today will be a quick story since I expended most of my creative energy for February in the monster 1,433-word story from yesterday. Granted, I generally try to keep to an average of 700 words per day, but sometimes, inspiration can be fickle, and my outputs are overwhelming. Such is the curse of a writer, I suppose.
This is the last photo I’ll bring to your attention in this series from Barcelona, and, at first glance, it’ll probably be meaningless. It is, after all, a collection of small sachets tied to cotton cord hanging in a pendular fashion. That being said, something as simple as this arrangement can significantly impact a larger, more intricate whole.
This is an instrument that Gaudí used to determine how the vaults, apses, and ceiling of La Sagrada Família should crafted. It’s a design study, analogue and obtuse, and remarkably kinesthetic. Gaudí was known for creating physical models (née prototypes) of the various stages of La Sagrada’s design, and this is just one part of that design process. I found it fascinating, and if time had permitted, I’d perhaps stared at this way too long.
It’s remarkable how something so simple as cotton, string, and ballast can result in something immeasurably complex. It’s a design touched by, if you will, a celestial hand. It’s tucked away in the vaults of La Sagrada towards the end stage of your walkthrough and at the summation of a journey through Gaudí’s history with the site. You’d be forgiven if you missed it for just another exhibit in a winding history hall, but perhaps this is their most important.
You see, without this instrument and design, you’d not be able to marvel at the swoops, curves, and light of La Sagrada. You’d not be able to experience the majesty and wonder of what those towers from the outside rely upon for support. Indeed, you’d eliminate one of the cornerstones of what makes the Cathedral holy; this is, after all, what shapes the heavens in Gaudí’s vision. It’s a marvel to those who understand that a tool can be more than meets the eye and, in the hands of the inspired, it can be monumental.
We’ve walked away from some of these methods in our modern designs today, preferring AutoCAD’s cold, clinical space and SolidWorks to string’s kinesthetic pleasures. Part of what drives my soul is seeing the resurgence of the analogue and straightforward as a means of making, of pouring blood, sweat, and tears into the visceral arts of shaping stone, metal, and wood into works of tremendous art. The glass and steel we’ve come to embrace as our nouveau cathedrals and skyscrapers today lose their soul in the embrace of the digital ether.
Perhaps we revisit the masters and their methods to achieve more noble ends. Maybe we need to be reminded of the pleasures of making with our own hands and simple things. Perhaps, given everything we’re thrown into, day in and day out, we need to return to our foundations and start over again. Time will tell, as it always does, and we’ll trundle onward as we have. But, in these brief moments, pauses in space and time, and with the gentle nudge of recorded history, we are blessed to be reminded that string, cotton, and ballast can make the most beautiful things in all the world.
May it ever be so.
