Gaudi and Gia

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

This is one of my favourite poems. EVER. When we were walking around the Sagrada Familia there was a small side room which was dedicated to explaining the way in which Gaudi used formations drawn from nature to construct the details of the cathedral. It spoke briefly of his love of the outdoors, founded on spending his childhood summers at the family home in Mas de la Calderera where he studied the natural world around him with zeal and fervour. Much as I’m sure we would all love to be able to indulge ourselves as William Henry Davies wanted. There are few times in the adult world when we have the mental, as well as physical, time to devote to doing absolutely nothing but watching and absorbing the life that whirls ceaselessly around us. Children on the other hand do, and luckily for all of us Gaudi’s love of detail and the perfection he discovered from his childhood studies were never lost to him.

The Ammonite shell is a recurring motif in much of Gaudi's work

He was a man of his homeland, and despite being a world-renowned architect he continued to live in Cataluña all of his life. Gaudi believed strongly that where a man came from shaped him as an individual, gave him purpose, direction and a strong foundation – ironically, everything that a great building needs to make it strong. His love of his home can be seen all over Barcelona and the surrounding Catalan region in the numerous commissions he undertook; from churches and apartment blocks to humble lampposts and frankly awe inspiring gateways. Gaudi’s vision has lent Barcelona an air of refined modernism concealed beneath a distinctly Catalan veil. In any other city his refined architectural motifs would look out of place, the undulating building forms for example, would be an eye-saw rather than a distant echo of the surrounding hills. Cataluña ran through his veins as much as blood does another human, the land was in his bones and he began to shape its principle city in its image.

Gaudi designed lampposts throughout his career - this is a particularly illuminating example. Yes, I really am that dreadful...

In my oh so humble (yes, I am capable at times!) opinion, we all undertake a few journeys before we find out who we are. Artists and craftspeople are distinct from us in the fact that we see their progressions unfold before our eyes; their journeys of discovery are open for the criticism and wonder of all. Like all of us, Gaudi didn’t arrive at his style immediately – he experimented with other popular architectural movements along the way. He was particularly fascinated with oriental art, especially Indian, Moorish and Japanese for a time, and the influence of these can be seen in the Capricho, the Güell Palace, the Güell Pavilions and the Casa Vicens (Gaudi’s first important architectural work once he graduated). He took various structural and ornamental solutions from nazarí and mudéjar art, which he used with variations and stylistic freedom in his works. Notably, Gaudí observed of Islamic art its spatial uncertainty, its concept of structures with limitless space; its feeling of sequence, fragmented with holes and partitions, which create a divide without disrupting the feeling of open space by enclosing it with barriers – something which is immediately apparent in many of his structures.

It is interesting that when I first saw the Sagrada Familia my immediate impression was that it was decidedly gothic in its construction – the soaring arches and myriad towers brought to mind a fairytale castle gone slightly bonkers. No surprise therefore to note that the other major influence on Gaudi’s early career was Gothic Revival – a movement begun by the Frenchman Viollet-le-Duc – though he wasn’t without his criticisms of the style. In the end, he was to ‘perfect’ the Gothic style, beautifying its vault and buttresses using form derived directly from the study of internal natural forms such as trees, reeds and even bones. The key to doing this was the hyperboloid shape (ever twisted the ends of a slinky in opposite directions? The shape it makes is a hyperboloid) which allowed Gaudi to create structures which were more expressive gothic than the more traditional austere: the hyperboloid vaults have their centre where Gothic vaults had their keystone, and the hyperboloid allows for a hole in this space to let natural light in. In the intersection between vaults, where Gothic vaults have ribs, the hyperboloid allows for holes as well, which Gaudí employed to give the impression of a starry sky. The effect it nothing short of brilliant.

Vaulted ceiling in the Sagrada Familia

 Now for me, architecture should escapes the bounds of the building that it is manifest in. The Sagrada Familia is a Cathedral to celebrate religion, however within its construct it is so much more – it is an ode to the beauty of nature and its inherent perfection regardless of the hubris of man in believing he can do better. Gaudi became known for championing the natural within his work as I’ve already mentioned, and this went from the weird to the wonderful, the profound to the profane and everything in between. This is something I love about him as an artist, nothing was too humble to be glorified – the structure of a shell, snails, leaves, it all moved him and in turn he moved us by highlighting them and reminding us of the beauty to be found when we truly open our eyes and look.

The Dragon Gate at the Guell Pavilions - beautiful yet bonkers