Sunday, October 15, 2006

Barcelona - un gusto de Gaudi, un sabor de Miro...

"This tree next to my workshop, this is my master." So said master architect and artist Antoni Gaudi, whose Sagrada Familia has a cathedral interior based on the vaulted canopies of the forest.

Here in Barcelona, I am living only two blocks from La Sagrada Familia, that beautiful monstrosity, the most audicious and outrageous work of public art and expression of religious faith that I have ever seen...

Gaudi just makes me laugh out loud with joy and wonder at his sense of humor, deep faith, homage to nature, his sheer bravado. The top of the cathedral features stalks of corn and grapes and peaches and the word, repeated over and over, "Sanctus."

He drew inspiration from trees, leaves, honeycombs, birds, flowers, fruits, vegetables. And from light - I am amazed at the way his buildings are illuminated, the grace with which he harnesses the natural light.

He said about La Sagrada Familia, an ongoing masterwork of art and architecture started over 100 years ago and scheduled for completion in another 20 years or so, "Look at the top! Doesn't it just look as though the earth joins with the heavens? This burst of mosaics is the first thing sailors arriving in Barcelona will see. It will be a sparkling welcome!"

There is not a single straight line in La Pedrera, one of Gaudi's other masterpieces on Passeig de Gracia, which I also tour. The roof is simply splendid, mushrooming with towers and faces and spires and spirals, and who ever thought of making a roofline wavy anyway? Who ever thought to make a roof ornamental, indeed, vs. just somewhere that pigeons land or somewhere to hang the laundry?

Gaudi, that's who, his roof is necessary, not pedestrian as roofs usually are, just a building top, but instead pure art and lush design, and where else could you so admire the Barcelona skyline but from between his undulating rooflines... I'm in love with this roof... And we have not even talked about his Casa Battlo, Dio mio...

Here in Barcelona, these Catalan streets are still haunted by the spirits of Gaudi, Miro, Picasso...In a few short days, colorful, off-beat Barcelona has turned me upside down and inside out and made me laugh out loud and stand stock still in awe....

Pablo Picasso, what can I say? Who could be more playful and prolific? As his museum would testify... You can see here in this 15th century castle comme museo the evolution of the man who would later create Guernica - You can see it in his black and white study of "Las Meninas," one of 58 exhaustive studies of "La Familia de Felipe IV" executed by Picasso from December to August 1957.

You can see it in "La Joie de Vivre" also known as "La Alegria de Vivir," although the subject matter is different, the happy little goats, the pan flute, the voluptuous nymph. You can see how alive he is through his art and how the world lives here through his canvases - You can see what is to come...

I walk out of the Picasso Museum and the whole world is brighter and I see it in new frames, with new eyes - I take pictures at odd angles just for fun and am captivated by small details, a plastic flower on a balcony, trays of chocolates garnished with candied fruit in a shop window, laundry hanging on a pink pastel wall.

I feel a little crazier here, more inclined to take risks, knowing these artists did this and see what happened to the world?

I even dress myself like a work of art in Barcelona. This morning, I put on a simple black outfit with a low-cut black top, down to there, because these are the ultimate melons in nature anyway, this part of the woman - beautiful, no? Why not let the world admire sometimes... I wrap my hair in a bright red scarf and put on red lipstick and black eyeliner.

I am in the city of Miro. I am in the city of Picasso. How could I not treat my body as a work of art too, here where the figure of the woman was also admired and loved in art... I think of the joyous high round breasts of the nymph in Picasso's La Alegria de Vivir and figure I am dancing the streets in this spirit...

It's fun to do this and fun to walk around as if I am a roving piece of art. Everyone on the Ramblas does and is this anyhow... And it's comforting to be comfortable enough in my own skin now that I understand that some will love my display and exclaim, "Mama mia!" as some men do along the way, and some will ignore me because perhaps they prefer Cezanne to Miro, brunettes to strawberry blondes, whatever. I don't take it personally.

Some people love plums and some bananas and I am a pomegranate (bright and colorful, full of surprises, planting seeds of joy, better once you unwrap me!). Anyway, I revel in the beauty that God gave me as just, well, ME, pure Lisa, and have fun showcasing that here in this colorful city...

Here in Barcelona, I practice my Spanish but also check out the menus in Catalan. This is a place where your "X" Scrabble tile could actually win you big points, as this seems to be the middle letter of every word in Catalan. I don't pretend to have a handle on this language yet at all but it is seemingly a mix of Spanish and French and something more medeival.

For lunch I try "txapela" and "bikini txapela" at a Catalan tapas place; yesterday had "El Menu del Dia" at La Llesca, a mom-and-pop operation run by a family in Paseo Gaudi, which featured two plates - tostaditos con chorizo y tomate and albondigas con salsa, champinones y patatas, along with vino tinto, pan and flan - one of my alltime favorite desserts! - all for 10 Euros. Wow...
I am haunted by the city and still have not even lived it yet, i.e. haven't yet experienced "Barcelona by night" - although tonight I will treat myself to un paseo along Las Ramblas, and tomorrow to the Boqueria market I go! I will also visit Gaudi's house in Parque Guell tomorrow - have already been to several of his other houses and of course his masterpiece, La Sagrada Familia.

I can't seem to get enough of Gaudi... I just want to be consumed by his eclectic humorous sacred gorgeousness, to live in the organic-ness of his art....

Here the city really is a work of art, Modernisme, Catalan style art nouveau, and I am so grateful for it... I am reminded again how much the city is a passion of mine, the city as organism and eco-system, and I wonder as I walk how the city has evolved and is evolving now, what is its soul and nature? who are the spirits living and dead who roam the streets now? how do the people live and worship, what are the colors of the city by day and night, how does the afternoon light fall by the sea... Another city to fall in love with...

So you see, I am fickle, so quickly enamored of a city in Spain. However. You must understand though that my love for Italy is boundless and inexplicable, and I barely even saw the country - yet I felt it and tasted it and drank it in in a way that changed me in a few short weeks. What country could possibly be more sexy than Italy?

I don't think there is another place on earth sexier than this - the country is shaped like a woman's high-heeled, thigh-high boot for God's sake, kicking the island of Sicilia as if she has nothing better to do. I want to just kick some islands in my thigh-highed, high-heeled boots too when I am in Italy...

The day I leave Firenze, I am so sad to go. But all of my last moments there feel perfect, as they should be - I admire the graffiti of Jesu, spray painted in gold with "L'Uomo" on a stucco wall. I have a foccaccia dell'ouvo and a tortina della nonna, my last sweet in Italy for now.

It is the perfect sweet to end my two weeks there, symbolic for me somehow since I hope to be a nonna (Grandma!) someday and because it has a creamy sweet ricotta filling - My weakness here is for the milky, creamy sweets. The country of gelato. Heavenly. Also, in the U.S. we would not call this "the little cake of the Grandmother" - even the name of the dessert is sweet for Chrissakes!

Oh! And bow-tie pasta - here it is called farfallino which means "little butterfly." Little butterfly! Poetry in my mouth! My favorite gelato flavor is of course Bacio, which means kiss, and which is creamy chocolate with hazelnut. (Now, if you want to win my heart, sweet slow romance, perhaps a nice red wine, and anything with chocolate and hazelnut will do it....)

Italy is pure romance, where they name my favorite gelato flavor after a kiss - And with apologies to Spanish where we say "todo bien" nothing makes me happier than to hear the voices singing, "Tutto bene! Tutto bene!"

All is well - Of course it is - How could I possibly ever leave this country...

Vedi Napoli e Poi Muori - "Visit Napoli and you can die," so goes the Italian expression. I heard this from multiple Italian friends and it seems that I can't miss this place on this trip. So. I go. I see. I sigh... I meet Mario.

I don't really know what to say about Napoli, except, GO, and what to say about Mario except that I am happy to know he is alive. It was one of those days and one of those times when you just feel so grateful to be here, now, in the perfect moment.

Mario and I rode his Harley Davidson all over Napoli and watched the sunset from Parco Virgiliano and then checked out other stunning vistas of this historic and beautiful city on the sea. Napoli is perhaps better known to American tourists for its long history of organized crime or for not being the safest tourist destination in Italy today.

I can't speak for others but for me it was a friendly and beautiful place. I got to experience it through the eyes of someone who loves the city, which was such a blessing, and I understood why the Italians love this city so much.

We met at Castel Dell'Uovo as a simple stroke of fate; I had headed to a restaurant to grab some pizza and they were closing. Mario was leaving with members of his brother's wedding party (his brother was married the night before - Mario had been up all night and then spent the next day showing his brothers' friends from Milan the city - and then showed Napoli to me!).

We met, and he offered help me find another place to try Neopolitan pizza, and to show me his city. Mario's pride in his home and birthplace was obvious; he told me this was the best city in the world and he would take me to the best place in the best city in the world, that it was so beautiful that I would not be able to breathe...

It was, indeed, breathtaking. We watched the sunset from the west of the city, where the coastline curves around the Mediterranean creating a harbor and bay where the historic center of city is nestled. We are on the outer Western curve, by the industrial part of the city. Mario shares his vision for this part of Napoli, to transform the old factory buildings into art museums, build restaurants and shops by the sea. I can see it, perfectly...

Mario also is just a good soul, the youngest of eight children in a big Italian family that spans 28 years, known by the family as "the sweetest" of all the brothers. This was clear from his conversations with me. He is a spiritual and kind person who is dedicated to making a difference in the world and does everyday through his kindnesses and hard work and the sunshine he brings into others' lives, as he did into mine that day. I feel like I have more faith in the future and salvation of the world just knowing he exists!

Am grateful for experiencing his goodness... So many good people in the world and how lucky I am to meet some along the way... If you are familiar with tikkun olam, the concept from Jewish mysticism about reconnecting all the fractured bits of light scattered around the world to heal the earth - Meeting someone like Mario for me is like connecting again with one of these points of light.

If enough of us focus on healing the world together, it is possible... Anything is possible.

Other Italy stops included Pompei, Siena, Cinque Terre... I cannot extoll the virtues of Italy enough. I breathe more deeply and walk more slowly and feel more like a goddess here than anywhere on earth, apparently - I plan to trasplant this feeling, this way of being, back to the U.S...

Pompei was a marvel because here in a place of real art and culture and beauty a city was frozen in time. It is chilling and beautiful to see it, to see the plaster casts of people who were captured frozen in a moment in their everyday lives, surprised by the sudden volcanic eruption and shower of volcanic ash.

Siena is a medieval city, still intact today, and I climb the towers there for an overview of the red roofs, Tuscan hillsides, city walls. The Duomo in Siena knocks me out.

Just when you think you cannot breathe in any more beauty, there is more - the vaulted ceilings, the blue and white striped marble columns, the busts of Popes and noble figures along the ceiling vault, the frescos, the mosaic tile floors with stories of creation and resurrection - it is too much, really, it is about as much beauty as I can take in one day... I breathe it in...

And Cinque Terre - here I walk the Via Dell'Amore (Lover's Lane or the Road of Love) and marvel at the cliffside villages with the picturesque pastel houses of melon, peach, pink - I have a picnic lunch of formaggio and foccacia in a hidden cemetery which is a beautiful and quiet place with cliffside views. I hike for hours and watch the sunset over the cliffs and dine in a little place in Monterosso... I meditate on the rocks by the Mediterranean Sea. It is a quiet, lovely, replenishing time.

My last week has been so replenishing and I am grateful for this. Sometimes travel can be tiring and our bodies and souls just need to recharge, and the last few quiet, lovely days in Italy and my first few days in wondrous and wonderful Barcelona have provided just this for me. It is time to reflect on lessons of travel too, and to offer gratitude for the gifts.

I am so grateful for the kindness of strangers - it is this really that has made the world so welcoming, such a wonderland for me. Mario was a stranger who made Napoli friendly for me, and who is now a friend. By the Town Hall in Siena, a nice couple from Illinois shared their picnic lunch with me. They insisted on feeding me crackers, goat cheese, part of a pear, orange, grapes and cookies.

In Pompei Gianni befriended me and helped me to find my way to Napoli, bought me coffee and pizza and just kept me company, walking me through the square at night and showing me an archaelogical dig site off the beaten path, near where he grew up, that he insists I was the first tourist ever to see! This is probably true. I will remember this always.

It is little kindnesses like this that you remember, and hopefully pass on, in the world...

© Lisa Powell Graham 2006

1 comment:

Cindy said...

Txapela is actually a Basque word for the traditional hat that is worn in Pais Vasco.... I sometimes call Rik's cat Txapela, as when his ears are flat he really looks like one.

Barcelona is my favorite place in the world. Give it a kiss for me. Be careful on Las Ramblas. The borrachos like to touch the pretty.