La Sagrada Família
It’s perhaps one of the more iconic views in Barcelona. You can see it from the plane flying into the airport, the spires towering over the rest of the city skyline. From the narrow alleyways of Gràcia to the wide Avenue Diagonal, you’re treated to various aspects and presentations of the chiseled stone exterior. It is distinctly representative of Barcelona’s presence in the world by choice or by luck.
On our first day here, we couldn’t procure tickets to get inside based on what seemed to be an abnormally large volume of off-season tourists from many different nations clamouring to get inside. As such, we had to relegate ourselves to the perimeter, the Plaça de la Sagrada Família on one side and the Plaça de Gaudí on the other. In between, there was the cheeky establishment of American food chains: McDonald’s, Five Guys, Taco Bell, and KFC, a gross offset to the sanctity of this temple and sacred space.
There’s the scaffolding and nets to consider, too. The surrounding streets of the church are cordoned off by steel and rivets if only to prevent humanity from spilling over into the art being crafted in real time. You can catch glimpses through the carefully placed channels and seams, but it’s almost an afterthought because, as you are probably aware, the natural beauty lies within.
La Sagrada Família is, by all accounts, a testament to Barcelona, its people, its culture, and a man’s iconic sculpture and art. The embellishments of Scripture and humanity are carved into its faces, all done to drive home the ideas of faith and understanding.
Perhaps it’s a bit overwrought or, maybe, not enough. If Gaudí were to capture all creation in stone, plaster, and metal, would it be enough to contain it? I’d argue not. Instead, through careful application of vision, Gaudí has led us to a point of reflection and remonstrance: a recognition of our insignificance in the face of glory, on the other, a collision between faith, culture, and materiality.
It’s a work that will be ongoing, just like our humanity and souls. It presents a living embodiment of the human condition, complete with cranes and scaffolding, those mechanical structures that resemble the constructions of our hearts and souls at any given point. That it may be completed in time for our passing from this mortal coil to whatever lies beyond is secondary; the vision persists even after death. Indeed, supposing you read Gaudí’s rationale for building, you’ll note that by forcing construction into milestones, he ensured that it would always need that next step of funding, the subsequent allocation of resources, and another generation to see it through. It’s an artist’s brilliant touch that ensures significance and gravity.
It’s a beautiful building, even if it resembles a fever dream. The channels and chases coursing up the sides of the towers, the embellishments drawing your eye higher and higher until you escape their majestic hold and find only the blue sky and whispers of clouds. The noise of the crowds surrounding fades into the background as you consider the apses, the dramatic waves, and juxtapositions of light and shadow resembling, in aspect, the temptation of the Christ: goading you to want more than your current eye line allows you.
Perhaps this is where I shall leave you today, with a tease of the unconventional and majestic. It’s just one stop of many on the streets, alleyways, and quarters of a city steeped in art, history, war, and humanity. There will be time, dear souls, to visit the interior, the dwelling space of the holy and the unclean, the call to worship both a God and the vision of beauty brought to life over the last 143-odd years. Like our souls, it’ll continue in renovation and construction, each cycle of completion leading to new perspectives and shifts in our wholeness.
May you find your sacred spaces and continue the work started from your conception and birth, knowing that you, like La Sagrada Família, are a majestic work of art with an ever-evolving story.
May it ever be so.
