Gaudí and Güell
We’re almost there, the hallowed halls and chambers of La Sagrada Família beckoning from afar. We still have moments to consider, places to walk, and ideologies to uncover before we get there, however, so patience is needed. Hopefully, the reward is worth the wait (or I’m just an incorrigible tease). With that being said, let’s dive into today’s story.
Parc Güell is, by all accounts, a collection of Gaudí’s vision for Barcelona. I don’t write this as someone familiar with the extent of his theory, praxis, and output (La Sagrada Família aside) but as someone who can admire the fever dream of his legacy. This place resonates with the vibrancy of thought, intention, and purpose, complete with the variety of experiences that give you a sense of how Gaudí perceives the world. It’s not a full picture, mind you, and for that, you’ll need to walk as he once walked through the streets, alleyways, naves, and cloisters of what has become Barcelona in the intervening years since his untimely death. But it’s near enough that you get a perception of the man and some of the inner workings of his processes.
I’m intentionally taking these photos in black and white because this promotes a richer understanding of the Parc. It’s certainly colourful, with the tiles and mosaics assembled in riotous arrangements designed to beckon you down the rabbit hole. But it’s more than just the colour; the visceral expression of the curves, shapes, windows, ledges, and the view from above the city grabs your heart.
It’s possible to see Barcelona unfurled before you, each of the distinct districts laid out like tesserae to complete the mosaic of a people and place. It’s beautiful because of the order within chaos, the lines that draw the avenues and pathways between demarcated squares and blocks, and those diagonal approaches that bisect the same. From Güell, you get to see your paths more clearly than when amidst the stones and cobbles; that clarity helps connect all the pieces of this town.
Parc Güell was intentionally erected above the city proper, the closest neighbourhood being Gracía and the Gothic Quarter looming in the distance. In a way, it’s an intentional community brought about by a vision designed to segregate and separate people from one another. In a separate sense, it’s a failure of an artist’s utopia, the inevitable collision between the concepts of separation from the morass of society and the demands society places on those who wish to participate.
Gaudí was not a foreign soul to this place, but perhaps he accomplished the opposite in his insistence on separation. Regardless of ontology, Güell became a nexus for the work that would become La Sagrada Família; we must be grateful for that.
As I noted, his fingerprints are everywhere in this place. The sensuous curves on the cross, the mushroom cap point to a lower-lying building, the tiles in resplendent patchwork, and the white stucco that finds itself a willing canvas to his applique. It provides just enough juxtaposition with the more modern community architecture of Gracía and the Gothic Quarter beyond to be delightfully distinct and palette-cleansing. It’s an homage to the joys of materiality, beauty, and intentional disruption to the commonplace. It takes the elements so readily found at hand, stone, brick, sand, dirt, metal, and assembles them as a ladder to the heavens above, as a type of artistic Babel.
As I’ve been writing this, I’ve been interrupted by the world. I’ve found the noise of being, the reliance on relationships to be as grounding a work to my soul as Gaudí’s is to his people and city. I’ve found that the interstitial bits and pieces of my life find a home here amidst the stone and beautiful chaos of his mind and art. From the towers to the tunnels, the paths to the aqueducts, the vantage that Parc Güell brings to Barcelona is similar to the perspective I can enjoin regarding my estate.
Sometimes, we need to find our souls in the art and presentation of others. It feels uncomfortable because we, humans all, prefer to control our demesne, our trajectories. We chafe at the idea that others would have valuable contributions to our stories and are discomfited when they hit too close to home. One need only look at the vast swath of social media to understand this. What we need, however, is to accept that the opinions of others don’t tame the wildness of our souls. It is, however, able to benefit from the people and paths that precede us and from fellow travelers along the way. Perhaps we should encourage and embrace the differences in our experiences to be more fully engaged with the fabric of our communities and world.
Whatever you choose to do with your Mondays, be it in Barcelona or on the back porch, I pray you find yourself willing to embrace the wildness of experience like I did with Parc Güell and Gaudí’s indomitable vision for the future.
May it ever be so.
