Barcelona Boasts Art and Architecture

Barcelona boasts art and architecture

Chase Gunnell

The Daily Evergreen

Published: 02/12/2009

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BARCELONA, Spain – Traditionally Roman Catholic, the Spanish people are adamant about Sunday being considered a day of rest. Accordingly, mine are usually spent sprawled on Saint Sebastia beach, recovering from the previous night’s exploits at absinthe bars or Irish pubs.

But in a city of unparalleled architecture and world-class museums, I decided this one should be more productive. Armed with my Metro pass, camera and a comfortable pair of Nikes, I set off to see 2,000 years of art and history before sunset.

Christopher Columbus landed in Barcelona after discovering the new world. I thought it would be fitting to begin my artistic voyage at the sculpture built in his honor. Located at the bottom of La Rambla boulevard and towering over the city’s marina, the inspiring figure of Columbus points toward the sea, surrounded by a host of stone angels and marble lions.

Following La Rambla, I maneuvered the eccentric avenue’s human labyrinth of performers, pickpockets, street vendors and drug dealers to my next destination, the Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona (http://www.macba.cat).

Unfortunately, the modern art museum was closed but the steps of the building’s plaza are renowned as one of the finest skateboarding spots in the world. I spent most of my adolescence on a skate deck, so I was content to snack on fresh bakery bread and watch the local riders.

Crossing the city center, Plaza Catalunya, I walked further into the city. At the brilliantly blue-tiled Casa Batllo, I admired its skeleton awnings, reptilian scale roof and lance smokestack, designed by architect Antoni Gaudi to evoke St. George slaying the dragon.

Four blocks further I found Casa Mila, also designed by Gaudi. An enormous apartment of seemingly melting stone and wrought iron balconies, the building seems out of place beyond the pages of Dr. Seuss.

Hopping on the metro, I returned to Plaza Catalunya, diving into the narrow streets and hidden alleys of Barri Gotic, the Gothic Quarter. Barcelona’s oldest neighborhood, it's home to a soaring medieval cathedral, built within the ruins of the old Roman wall and aqueduct.

Hidden on a shady avenue nearby, I found more than 3,000 works by arguably the most famous artist of all time: Pablo Picasso. At a price of 6 Euros for students, the Barcelona Museu Picasso (www.museupicasso.bcn.es) holds an impressive collection stretching from the artist’s childhood to his final cubist periods.

Back at the marina, I entered a museum starkly different from Picasso’s. Free with my international student ID, the Museu d’Historia de Catalunya (www.en.mhcat.net) celebrates the story of Catalonia. From Stone Age settlements and Roman Empire conquest, to the rise of the Catalonian Empire and the Spanish Civil War, the museum provides an in-depth history of a nation, one now longing to be independent from Spain.

After refueling with a falafel lunch, I crossed the green lawns of La Ciutadella park and strolled beneath the giant Romanesque arch of the Arc De Triomf, boarding the metro toward Parc Guell.

Planned as an elegant neighborhood mimicking nature, the funding for Parc Guell ran dry before Gaudi could complete it. Today, it’s a sprawling park of stone columns, ornate sculptures and fanciful buildings, all covered in vibrantly colored mosaics.

The sun had set when I reached La Sagrada Familia (www.sagradafamilia.cat). Illuminated by floodlights and set against a backdrop of cranes, it’s an impressive sight. Gaudi’s masterwork is the crown jewel of Barcelona, despite being decades from completion.

Begun in 1882 and projected to be finished around 2026, The Temple of the Holy Family is an artistic and architectural triumph. Captivating the city’s skyline, every foot of the temple’s towers (18 of them when completed) are adorned with symbolic sculpture, stirring evidence of the artist’s genius. Unequaled in its scale and splendor, it was a fitting monument to end my day.

Next stop: London.

http://www.dailyevergreen.com/story/27743

A Hurricane in Montserrat

Staggering winds change plan

Historic art tour postponed due to unforeseeable weather

Chase Gunnell

The Daily Evergreen

Published: 02/05/2009

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BARCELONA, Spain – It was one of the worst storms in recent Spanish history, unleashing hurricane force winds on Barcelona, killing more than 10 people in northern Spain and southern France and causing billions (of euros) in damages.

And we were stranded at a train station, 50 kilometers outside the city, high in the mountains of Catalonia.

The morning had started peacefully enough. Though heavy winds were rocking our apartment building, my friends and I had no intention of canceling our trip outside the city to the Benedictine Abbey of Santa Maria de Montserrat (www.abadiamontserrat.net).

The abbey, first built in 1025 AD, is more than 4,000 feet up in the Montserrat, or Serrated Mountains. Reached now either by a meandering tram or a set of cable cars, it has been a popular Christian pilgrimage site for centuries.

Home to La Morenta, or the black virgin, a 12th century sculpture of the Virgin Mary that is regarded as the patron of Catalonia, the site is revered by the Spanish people as one of the holiest places in Europe. The monastery itself has even been rumored to be the hiding place of the Holy Grail.

The wind was nearly blowing us over as we boarded our train, but being naively bold Americans, we had no intention of letting a little breeze stop our expedition.

After an hour’s ride, we stepped off the train at the base of Montserrat to see cable car lines swinging wildly in the howling wind, quickly dashing our hopes of a ride to the top. Not only were the cable cars closed, but the tram tracks had recently been buried by rock slides.

Our hopes of a Saturday spent walking through the centuries-old abbey may have been dashed, but unwilling to go home, we decided to indulge our vagabond sides and simply follow the train to the end of the line.

But first, lunch. The café was tucked away behind the train station. Standing guard outside was a pair of dogs that seemed fully capable of eating American travelers, and the shack itself could have easily been part of the set for “Hostel.” Despite the place’s appearance, the bocadillos, (sandwiches with Iberian ham, eggs, cheese and tomato spread) were delicious and the owners were extraordinarily welcoming.

We boarded the train once more, heading northwest into the mountains. Exploring the hamlets of Sant Vicenc de Castellet and Castellbell i el Vilar, we discovered an aqueduct built by the Romans and investigated the crumbling ruins of a Spanish plantation, while quenching our thirst with cheap Estrella beer at every local bar we passed.

The afternoon found us tiredly returning to the train station, only to find a uniformed conductor shaking his head. No more trains, the storm had blown trees down over the tracks. No more buses running either.

The Spanish transportation system is impeccable. But here, far outside Barcelona in a tiny town where our English stood out like a sore thumb, we were completely marooned.

So we did the only logical thing, we started walking. An hour of trekking later and one town over, we followed signs to another train station that supposedly led to the city. But things still weren’t looking good. The station was deserted, just a maze of empty tracks and walls of wild graffiti.

Of all the people we could have met in a deserted train station, in a wind storm, in the mountains of Catalonia, “Lefty” was the last one I would have imagined.

“I’m from New Hampshire, how are you guys doing?” were the first words I heard the man say as he came around the corner and spotted us sprawled and looking lost next to the tracks.

“Lefty,” as he introduced himself, had come to Spain from the states almost five years ago. He worked as a jazz musician in Barcelona for a while before he moved to the peace and quiet of the village, where he said he made an honest living as a “gardener.”

Lucky for us, “Lefty” knew the only taxi driver in town.

Two hours and 70 euros later, we were back in Barcelona, toasting to our adventure and watching the sun fall below the stormy horizon of the Mediterranean.

http://www.dailyevergreen.com/story/27642

The Language Barrier

Facing big changes while in Barcelona

WSU junior struggles with language barrier

Chase Gunnell

The Daily Evergreen

Published: 01/22/2009

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BARCELONA, Spain — Located on the Mediterranean Sea in northeastern Spain, this city of roughly three million people is famous for its sprawling boulevards, picturesque beaches, historic art and architecture, and as the capital of the autonomous region of Catalonia.

And for a little more than a week, it has been my new home.

Waiting at the Metro stop this morning, I went over ideas in my head for this first study abroad opinion column. Should it be about my tortuously long red-eye flight from Sea-Tac to Spain? Or the incredibly ornate architecture of Antoni Gaudi and famous works of Picasso I've seen around the city? The nightclubs and discothèques that never sleep? Or maybe the flawless ease of the city’s public transportation system?

As my Metro train arrived at La Barceloneta station, I headed off to my first class of the day. A group of Spanish children sitting next to me presented the perfect topic, a problem that has continually plagued me since day one in Europe.

The second I sat down, the kids began pointing and chattering. My blue North Face jacket was about the same as wearing a neon sign that read “Americano.” Suspicious of being laughed at by a gang of 12-year-olds, I attempted to listen in on the conservation. Only a few phrases later, I was left in the wake of the swiftness of Spanish conversation. Stepping off the Metro, I wished I had paid more attention in my high school Spanish class.

The language barrier. Everywhere I go, I’m reminded of the gap created by my stumbling Spanish and the rapid-fire pace at which the locals speak their language. No other obstacle has been more hindering or stressful since my arrival.

Many Spaniards speak English, but odds are those fluent in English are not waiting your table, filling your drinks or driving you around. And just when I feel I’ve got a grasp on a few relevant Spanish phrases, the citizens of Barcelona throw me a curveball: Catalan.

Barcelona was long the capital of the independent state of Catalonia, and the locals here are as proud of their traditional language as Cougars are of crimson and gray (at least when our sports teams are winning).

The “Freedom for Catalonia” graffiti found around the city and the fierce rivalry between FC Barcelona and Real Madrid “football” teams are clear examples of the citizens of Barcelona’s desire for an independent state of Catalonia.

Unfortunately for me, their reverence for Catalan as well as Spanish has made communication all the more difficult. Whether it’s ordering meals at a tapas restaurant or directing a cab driver to my favorite nightclub, my sluggish Spanish and the abundance of Catalan-infused language has proved to be quite a challenge.

Nonetheless, it’s a challenge I’m eager to overcome. Moving halfway across the world, from small town Pullman to an enormous city, and experiencing a different culture and language, all while maintaining a full-time university schedule may be difficult.

However, the beaches of the Mediterranean are just outside my apartment door, the beer may be expensive but it's better than Busch Light, and the sun is shining. I'll trade falling on ice every time I walk to class for a frustrating language barrier any day.

So tune in Pullman, as I keep you updated on my travels through Europe on a college student’s budget. I have trips planned and European Football games to attend, beaches to enjoy and many encounters with the culture, art and cuisine to experience.

And maybe with some luck, and the help of my beginner Spanish class, I’ll eventually be able to communicate with the locals beyond “hola,” “gracias” and “adios.”

http://www.dailyevergreen.com/story/27448