Month: July 2026

Following our memorable visit to Montserrat Abbey in the afternoon of November 19, we returned to Barcelona to enjoy a bit of night life. We had only one evening for this since the next evening, our last, we would have to pack and bed down in preparation for an early-morning departure on the 21st.

Our guide, Manuel Sueiras, proposed a paella dinner in a restaurant in the harbor area. Our tour bus did not operate at night and we had to take separate taxis to get there. Our taxi driver, for reasons not apparent to us at the time, dropped us off about half a mile from the restaurant and we had no idea how to get the rest of the way. At this point we had as yet no idea of the geography of the city.

We joined up with Jim and Joan Hinds, who were in the same predicament, and proceeded to grope our way through the night. Fortunately the location proved not too difficult to find. It was in a huge indoor mall called MareMagnum, easily identifiable by the giant geodesic dome visible above the parking garage. We shortly found the rest of our group waiting in front of the mall, and we enjoyed a fabulous dinner of seafood paella in Casa Amàlia Port Vell.

Port Vell, which means “Old Harbor” in Catalan, is not as old as the name implies, at least not in its present form. Before 1992 it was a rundown area of factories, warehouses and railroad yards. An urban renewal project undertaken to prepare for the Barcelona Olympics, held in 1992, transformed it completely, giving it the MareMagnum Mall, an IMAX theater, and Europe’s largest aquarium.

Port Vell is accessed via a causeway which incorporates a swing bridge allowing boats to enter and exit the marina enclosed by the port. The causeway is an extension of one of the main boulevards of Barcelona, La Rambla, for which reason it is known as Rambla de Mar. It only allows cars to go as far as the parking garage. Our taxi driver had dropped us far short of the garage; maybe he was afraid that if he went that far he would have to pay to get out of the parking lot (I’ve had that experience myself in a number of places), or maybe he thought he might get trapped behind the swing bridge. Anyway, both before and after dinner I was able to take some passable night shots of the port and its surroundings, as well inside the mall.

It never became clear to me which part of Barcelona Harbor was Port Vell and which parts belonged to other venues, so my photos don’t conform to any specific locale; they just record what I saw from the Rambla de Mar that night.

The harbor of Barcelona is oriented north/south, and across the bay from Port Vell on the east is the peninsula of La Barceloneta, which has some of the most famous and popular beaches of Barcelona, as well as many restaurants and nightclubs. Cruise ships dock there, on the inner side of the peninsula, and it’s also the location of the Torre Sant Sebastià, which serves as the terminus for the Port Vell Aerial Tramway. More about that in a later post.

The view to the south on the Rambla de Mar is dominated by the World Trade Center Barcelona, located on the neighboring wharf (Moll de Barcelona). This is a vast business complex with 40,000 square meters (430,000 sq ft) of office space complete with convention centers and meeting rooms. Created by American architect Henry Cobb, the WTC consists of four buildings in a circle, vaguely resembling a boat. It also houses a hotel, shops and restaurants. Next to the WTC stands a tall tower, the Torre de Jaume I, an intermediate station of the aerial tramway en route to the other end at Montjuïc Hill. On the water between Rambla de Mar and the Moll de Barcelona are two sculptures of human figures, molded in white polyester resin and fiberglass, standing on hemispherical buoys. They each represent a boy looking up at the sky while holding behind his back a red star “caught in a dream.” They look small but are actually about 3.5 meters (11′ 6″) tall. The buoys have weighted bases so they always right themselves if tipped over. They are called Mirastaels, which means “stargazer” in Catalan, and are the work of Robert Llimós, born in Barcelona in 1943. He created the Stargazers as a tribute to his friend the Catalan poet Joan Brossa (1919-1998), also a native of Barcelona. Brossa wrote a poem called Saltamartí , which means “grasshopper” in Catalan, but it is also an alternate name for tentetieso, a toy that always pops back up again when knocked down. Brossa, and hence Llimós, used it as a metaphor for the human capacity to recover from adversity and hold on to one’s dreams.

After dinner, we strolled back along the Rambla de Mar to the Christopher Columbus monument at the foot of La Rambla, where we were to catch our taxis back to the hotel. Although it was mid-November, the night was calm, clear, and magical, and the views along the waterfront were reminiscent of scenes out of impressionist paintings by artists such as Monet or Pissarro.

Finally we arrived at the Columbus monument, which is an impressive 60 meters (197 feet) tall and was completed in 1888 as a prop for Barcelona’s first world fair. It commemorates the fact that Columbus came to Barcelona after his return from his first voyage to the New World to report on his discoveries to King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. The octagonal base is elaborately decorated with sculptures representing both mythological figures such as winged victories, as well as real persons associated with Columbus and his voyages. There is even an elevator to take visitors to the top of the column; we were unaware of that at the time, but it was not operating at night and we didn’t have time to take advantage of it anyway.

While we were waiting for our taxis to arrive I checked out some of the vehicles parked in the area. Motorcycles are ubiquitous in Barcelona and I saw some models I hadn’t known existed. I was particularly intrigued by a small electric contraption which appeared to be a cross between a motorcycle and a golf cart. I wondered if it was the future of personal transportation in Barcelona.

Next morning we were scheduled to visit the famous basilica La Sagrada Familia first thing after breakfast, and that will be the subject of my next post.

George Orwell once wrote, in his Spanish Civil War memoir Homage to Catalonia, “I went to have a look at the cathedral… a modern cathedral, and one of the most hideous buildings in the world.” He further expressed regret that the Anarchists had not succeeded in blowing it up while they had a chance. He was of course incorrectly referring to La Sagrada Familia, which is not a cathedral but merely a basilica. A basilica is a Roman Catholic church granted enhanced status by the Pope because of its historical, spiritual or architectural importance. A cathedral is a basilica which is also the seat of a bishop. The seat of the Archbishop of Barcelona is the Metropolitan Cathedral Basilica of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia, which has been in existence since the fourteenth century. The construction of La Sagrada Familia began in 1882, and it is still not complete. Also, while I greatly respect Orwell as a writer, I am completely at odds with his esthetic appraisal of La Sagrada Familia.

La Sagrada Familia is the masterpiece of the Catalan architect Antoni Gaudí i Cornet (1852-1926). I don’t like to sound pompous and bombastic, so I’ll refrain from saying something like “he was one of the greatest artistic geniuses the human race has ever produced.” That unsaid, I will note that Gaudí was a chief exponent of Catalan Modernism, also known as Catalan Art Nouveau. But he went far beyond mainstream Modernism, creating a highly personal style that expressed his outlook on nature and religion as well as architecture, and combined elements of diverse crafts such as ceramics, stained glass, wrought ironwork and carpentry.

Gaudí did not originate the La Sagrada Familia project, but he took it over in 1883, a year after it was begun, when the first architect resigned. He immediately put his personal stamp on it and continued working on it until he died, at which time it was only about 25% finished. Construction proceeded slowly because it was financed entirely by personal donations. Gaudí’s comment on that was reportedly “My client is not in a hurry.” After Gaudí was run over by a Barcelona streetcar in 1926, his disciples took over the project and continued it along the lines he had envisioned. The Spanish Civil War (1936-38) brought some serious setbacks: Anarchists hostile to the Catholic Church and religion in general wrecked parts of the structure, destroyed Gaudí’s workshop, and burned some of his papers and models. But new architects picked up the project and work resumed in 1940.

The church was still not finished at the time of our visit in November 2017, when it was about 70% complete. Full completion was then projected for 2026, but since then other delays, such as the Covid pandemic, have forced it to be rescheduled to 2034. But this has not prevented the church from becoming operational: Pope Benedict XVI consecrated the church in 2010, and Mass has been celebrated there on Sundays and holy days since 2017. Further, structural completion was attained on February 20, 2026, with the installation of the top of the central Tower of Jesus Christ. This made La Sagrada Familia the tallest church in Europe at 172.5 meters (566 feet). That is lower than the top of Montjuïc Hill (which we visited later in the day), the highest point in Barcelona at 177.72 meters or 583.1 feet. This is by design, because the devoutly religious Gaudí felt that his creations should not surpass God’s.

Gaudí’s design called for 18 spires to be built, representing in ascending order of height the Twelve Apostles, the Four Evangelists, the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ. As of this writing 14 of the 18 are now complete.

Gaudí designed three façades for the basilica. Two are complete – the Nativity Façade on the east and the Passion Façade on the west. The Glory Façade, on the south, is still a work in progress. We entered the basilica via the Passion Façade and exited by the Nativity Façade.

The Passion Façade of course is intended to represent the biblical story of the Crucifixion of Christ. At first view, one is immediately struck by the bizarre appearance of the six inclined columns supporting the pediment, which resemble strained muscles. I have never seen anything like it with any other church. The pediment itself is made up of eighteen bone-shaped columns with a cross and a crown of thorns at the apex. Together the tops of the bones display the text posted on Jesus’ cross (“IESUS NAZAARENUS REX IUDEORUM” – “Jesus the Nazarene, King of the Jews”).

The steeples above the Passion Façade represent the apostles James, Thomas, Philip and Bartholomew, and were built between 1954 and 1976.

Beneath the pediment the Passion Façade is adorned with a series of sculptures representing the events associated with the Crucifixion of Jesus. They are arranged in three levels, but the configuration of my camera lens obliged me to photograph them laterally – right side, left side, center – and that’s the way I’ll deal with them here.

Immediately to the right of the glass doors, through which we entered, is a statue of the disciple Simon Peter bowing his head in shame at dawn as he recalls the words of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane the night before, as recorded in Matthew 26:34 and Mark 14:30 — “Verily I say unto thee, that this night, before the cock crows, thou shalt deny me thrice.” To emphasize the poignancy of the scene, the three women to whom Peter denied his affiliation with Jesus appear ensculptured next to him, and the rooster who crowed perches at their left.

Further to the right is a depiction of the Ecce Homo (“Behold the man”) scene. These are the words, translated into Latin, uttered by Pontius Pilate when he brings out Jesus, who has just been whipped and crowned with thorns, to show to a hostile crowd before sentencing him to be crucified.

The rightmost scene on the bottom level is not clearly visible in my photos. It depicts Pilate washing his hands after condemning Jesus to death.

On the second level, above Ecce Homo, is a scene of Jesus falling on his way to Golgotha, while Simon of Cyrene picks up his cross and the three Marys (the Virgin Mary, Mary of Clopas and Mary Magdalene) weep at the sight.

The sculpture on the third level of the right side represents the aftermath of the Crucifixion, as Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus sadly lay Jesus in his tomb as the Virgin Mary looks on.

Moving to the left side, the first sculpture to the left of the doors portrays the Kiss of Judas, where Judas Iscariot hugs and kisses Jesus to signal to the soldiers whom to arrest. To the left of that is the scene where, as a group of armed men go in search of Jesus, they first encounter Peter, who cuts off the right ear of the high priest’s servant, which one of the soldiers holds in his hand.  Between the sculpture groups, on the wall of the basilica, is a Magic Square. I am not familiar with this mystical diagram, but briefly, it is a kind of Sudoku diagram where the numbers on each side always add up to 33, Jesus’ supposed age at the time of his death, any way you look at them. You can find a discussion of the Magic Square on Wikipedia.

The leftmost sculpture in the bottom row, which is obscured in my photos by one of the supporting columns, is a representation of the Last Supper.

In the second row on the left side, there is an equestrian statue depicting the Roman soldier Longinus piercing Jesus’ side with a lance to verify that he is really dead. Above that is the scene where Roman soldiers are casting lots for Jesus’ clothing.

In the center of the Passion Façade, between the main entry doors, is a sculpture depicting the Flagellation of Jesus, where he has been tied to a pillar and is being whipped prior to appearing before Pilate.

Above the main doors is a sculpture group depicting the scene where Jesus falls a second time on the path to Golgotha, in the presence of several women, one of whom cleans the blood from his face with a cloth. The blood leaves an imprint on the cloth, which is displayed prominently in the center of the tableau. On the left of the group is a figure – I’m not sure whom it was supposed to represent – with the face of Antoni Gaudí. The sculptor intended this as a tribute to the architect.

The topmost group in the center is a Crucifixion scene, with Jesus hanging from the cross with the three women, Mary Magdalene, Mary of Clopas, and the Virgin Mary, mourning at his feet, accompanied by St. John.

All of the sculptures conform to the general tone of the Passion Façade, which is stark and ascetic, in keeping with its grim subject. Gaudí wanted to emphasis the harshness and brutality of Christ’s crucifixion by using rigid, angular forms, and further by the deployment of chiaroscuro, the use of strong contrasts between light and dark. The sculptures are similar in style to that of St. Jordi (George) at Montserrat, shown in my earlier post on that site, and in fact were (mostly) the work of the same person, Josep Maria Subirachs (1927-2014). Subirachs began working on the Passion Façade sculptures in 1986 and continued until his death. One detail of his work that particularly drew my interest was the helmets of the soldiers who arrested Jesus: they are not authentic helmets of Roman legionaries but instead are inspired by the tops of the chimneys at Casa Milà, a Barcelona apartment building designed by Gaudí in 1906. This was another of Subirachs’ tributes to Gaudí.

Construction of the Passion Façade was mostly complete at the time of our visit; only a few final touches remained, such as the placement of the cross atop the pediment.

Entering through the glass doors of the Passion Façade, we encountered inside the church a completely transformed atmosphere, one of overwhelming majesty and tranquillity, indeed it might be said — heavenly. Regardless of whether one is a believer or an atheist, a profoundly spiritual experience awaits in the interior of La Sagrada Familia.

The first impression is one of towering height. LaSagradaFamila has been described as “a Temple where verticality rules.” The ceiling vaults are 30 meters high above the side naves, 45 above the central nave, 60 above the crossing, and 75 above the apse. They are supported by a uniquely Gaudian set of columns that branch like trees to support their loads. Gaudí was enamored of nature, which he strove both to embody and to transcend in his work. In nature there are few straight lines and flat surfaces, so he avoided them. The ceiling vaults of La Sagrada Familia have been compared to forest canopies, with illuminated geometric figures suggesting flowers on the trees.

Looking toward the apse, one sees a rather plain high altar carved from a single block of Iranian porphyry. But its surroundings are anything but plain. Above the altar hangs a crucifix, suspended beneath an illuminated baldachin, or fabric canopy, decorated with vines and grapes. Far above, illuminating the interior of the church, is a golden mosaic dome depicting a triangle within a circle as a symbol of the Christian Trinity.

No basilica is complete without an organ, and in the chancel, behind the altar, a 26-stop, 1492-pipe instrument was installed in 2010, in time for the consecration of the church. But no single organ could hope to suffice for the size and complexity of La Sagrada Familia, so plans are afoot (and may have been realized by now) to install additional instrumens, with a projected total of 8,000 pipes.

Turning aside from the splendors of the apse, I perceived a spiral staircase winding down from one of the steeples. It turns out that access to two of the steeples is afforded by elevator, but descent is by the very narrow spiral staircase of 300 steps. The view from the top of the steeples would have been fabulous, but our visit did not allow time for it; however, we were compensated later in the day by the vistas we had from Montjuïc and from Park Güell.

The soaring columns and splendid ceilings of the nave extend into the transept. At its west end, through which we had entered, we viewed the inside of the Passion Façade, where a statue of the Virgin Mary stands on a balcony above the glass doors, with another balcony above her and gorgeous stained-glass windows extending thence up to the ceiling. The east end of the transept is similar yet different, with a statue of St. Joseph on one of several balconies, and stained-glass windows arranged in two vertical tiers behind and above him.

Let me turn to the southern enclosure of the central nave, which happens to be the reverse side of the Glory Façade. It’s difficult to say much about it without having first described its exterior, which is unfinished, but I’ll do my best. Like the other façade interiors, it has several balconies; on one of them stands a dark statue of St. Jordi (George), the patron saint of Catalonia; this, along with several other features, imparts a distinct flavor of Catalonian patriotism to the basilica. The figure of St. George is reminiscent of the statue we had seen at Montserrat, not surprising because they were both carved by Josep Maria Subirachs, who preserved the same severe, angular features while omitting the sword held by the figure at Montserrat. Beneath St. George’s balcony there is a symbol of the Eucharist, on the transom of the glass doors, visible from outside. Above St. George there is a winged shape which some have said represents a dove, but to me resembles a bat. I confess I’ve never really understood this symbol, and I’m still trying to find out what it means.

I have reserved mention of the stained-glass windows for last in covering the interior of the basilica because I feel they deserve a passage of their own. I am in general extremely partial to stained glass as a form of artistic expression; but the stained-glass windows of La Sagrada Familia are sui generis, in a class by themselves. At first glance they seem quite similar to those of traditional Gothic cathedrals, but as with everything else, in designing the windows Gaudí upended the normal conventions. In traditional Gothic practice, stained-glass windows were arranged with the most colorful in the upper reaches, so as to enjoy the maximum effects of sunlight; in the lower sections, which were often obscured by shadows from trees, flying buttresses, etc., the colors tended to be less intense. Gaudí did the opposite. He filled the upper windows with clear glass, believing that natural, unobstructed sunlight was the best painter and would not only provide maximum illumination of the ceiling vaults but would also enhance the perception of height, thereby bringing the viewer closer to heaven.

The lower windows, by contrast – though still up to considerable heights – are intensely colored. But here again, Gaudí took natural lighting into account in devising his own highly creative approach. He felt that the light of the morning sun was most appropriately associated with the beginning of life, and should be expressed in cool colors — blues and greens. Hence these colors dominate the windows of the east wall, the Nativity side; whereas the west wall faces the setting sun, associated with fiery reds and oranges, suited to the violent and cataclysmic theme of the Passion Facade.

The effects of the stained-glass arrangements vary according to the time of day and seasons of the year. The cool hues of the Nativity side are best experienced in the morning, and in the summer, when the morning light strikes most directly on the window panes; while the red and orange tones of the Passion side are most intense in the evening and in the winter, when the sun sets earlier in the west and the rays there arrive perpendicular to the glass.

We exited the church via the Nativity Façade, which is dedicated not only to the birth of Christ but to the beginnings and flourishing of life in general, in direct contrast to the Passion Façade with its theme of suffering and sacrifice. Again unlike the Passion Façade, the Nativity Façade is lavishly decorated with ornate and highly symbolic sculptures. It was the first to be completed, in 1936, but it was damaged during the Spanish Civil War and its reconstruction took many years. Some of the restoration work, along with several new elements, was entrusted to a Japanese disciple of Gaudí, Etsuro Sotoo, nicknamed “the Japanese Gaudí” by his countrymen.

Gaudí envisioned the Nativity Façade as a celebration of the joy of life and tribute to divine creation. He associated the birth of Jesus with morning and daybreak; thus he deliberately situated the Nativity Façade to face the east so its sculptures would be illuminated and glorified by the rising sun.

Because the construction of the Nativity Façade began during Gaudí’s lifetime, it is the one most directly bearing his stamp. True to his naturalistic style, he made liberal and highly symbolic use of plants and animals. For example, he used tortoises and turtles to suggest stability and longevity, chameleons to represent change, and a pelican feeding its chicks as a symbol of the sustenance provided by Christ in the Eucharist. He also wanted the Nativity Façade to be painted in a wide variety of colors to make the plants and animals, as well as people, to make them look as lifelike as possible; but this has not been realized.

The Nativity Façade encompasses three separate portals, each dedicated to a specific Christian virtue as well as a designated member of the Holy Family: the Portal of Hope, associated with Joseph; the Portal of Charity, dedicated to Jesus; and the Portal of Faith, dedicated to the Virgin Mary. The Portal of Hope includes scenes of the Flight into Egypt, the Massacre of the Innocents, Mary and Joseph’s wedding, etc. The Portal of Faith features scenes related to the Immaculate Conception of Mary, Jesus working as a carpenter, Jesus preaching in the Temple, and the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple (forty days after his birth, according to the Gospel of Luke). The Portal of Charity has the Star of Bethlehem, the Annunciation of the Virgin Mary, the Adoration of the Magi, the Adoration of the Shepherds, and of course a scene of the Nativity itself.

As we emerged from the interior of La Sagrada Familia, construction scaffolding somewhat limited our access to the side portals, so my photos of the Nativity Façade are mostly limited to the Portal of Charity, and that’s the only one I’ll describe in detail. Between the two glass doors (the work of Etsuro Sotoo) stands a column topped by a sculpture depicting Joseph and Mary laying the newborn Jesus in a manger, with an ox and a mule on either side. Away on the far sides of the glass doors, angels watch over the scene.

Above the Nativity scene is the Star of Bethlehem, surrounded by a host of incredibly ornate angels and musicians, framed against the background of the stained-glass windows of the transept. Note that the Star is depicted as leaving a trail, sort of like a comet, which it could be mistaken for in this rendering.

Above the Star of Bethlehem on the Portal of Charity appears a sculpture representing the Annunciation, when the Archangel Gabriel appears to the Virgin Mary to announce that she has been chosen to bear the Messiah. Higher still is a scene of Mary being crowned Queen of Heaven by Jesus, as Joseph and a shepherd look on. On top of all else, the Portal is crowned with a huge cypress tree, symbolizing the Tree of Life. The aforementioned pelican feeding its chicks appears just below the cypress.

Stepping away from the Nativity Façade, across the Carrer de Mallorca to the south, we were at last able to contemplate the unfinished Glory Façade. Construction barriers and scaffolding obscured the lower floors, and we had to cross the street to get a decent view of the upper reaches. It clearly had a long way to go before completion. None of the Glory spires (Andrew, Peter, Paul and James the Greater) were in place yet — they still aren’t, as far as I know, although the central spire of Jesus Christ has been installed — and the sides were bare and blank. However, the towering central glass windows, which we had seen from inside, were in place, so we could get some idea of what it would be like when finished.

Gaudí intended the Glory Façade, which he began designing in 1892, to be the principal entrance to the church and therefore the grandest and most monumental of its three portals. Whereas the Nativity Façade was dedicated to Jesus’ arrival in the world and the Passion Façade focused on his death and resurrection, Gaudí conceived of the Glory Façade as a celebration of the redemption and salvation of humanity through Christ. To this end he designed the entry portal to present a progression from the depths of sin and damnation to the triumph over death and the attainment of eternal life. Approaching the entrance, one would first climb a great staircase, to be built over the Carrer de Mallorca, with stations representing Hell and Purgatory as well as depictions of demons, idols, false gods, heresy and schisms, etc.

Ascending the stairs to the portico, the visitor would then encounter seven large columns supporting the narthex. These would display representations of the seven gifts (wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety and fear of the Lord), the seven cardinal sins (pride, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath and sloth) and the seven cardinal virtues to protect against them (chastity, temperance, charity, diligence, patience, kindness and humility).

Looking up, one would see four soaring bell towers, dedicated to the apostles Andrew, Peter, Paul, and James the Greater. These would rest on eight columns representing the eight beatitudes prescribed by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount as the basis of a spiritually full life (blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed are those who mourn, blessed are the meek, blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, blessed are the merciful, blessed are the pure of heart, blessed are the peacemakers, blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness).

For the windows between the two central towers, Gaudí planned a series of illustrations beginning with the history of humanity, starting with Adam and Eve, on the first level; continuing on the second level with the three covenants between God and man: Noah’s covenant (symbol of hope, applying to all of humanity), the Covenant at Sinai of Moses (for the people of Israel and a symbol of faith) and the covenant of Jesus (who, in giving his life for all humanity, symbolises eternal life); and culminating in the top level with a scene of heaven depicting the Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ at the Last Judgement, and the Holy Spirit, with God the Creator above all.

At the base of the towers is the entrance to the great narthex (lobby or vestibule), opening to the nave. To enter it one would pass through one of seven bronze doors, representing the seven sacraments of the Catholic Church (Baptism, Confirmation, the Eucharist, Penance, Holy Orders, and Extreme Unction).

Construction of the Glory Façade began in 2002. The bronze doors of the narthex, created by Josep Maria Subirachs, were installed in 2008. The central door, symbolizing the Eucharist, presents the text of the Lord’s Prayer in Catalan, as well as the excerpt “Give us this day our daily bread” in 50 other languages.

Final completion of the Glory Façade is now projected for 2034. There is, however, still one major impediment. The grand staircase, sixty meters in length, projected to span the Carrer de Mallorca will necessarily intrude into the neighboring residential block, necessitating the demolition of several buildings and the relocation of about 3,000 people at last report. Unsurprisingly, this prospect has generated not a little opposition, especially among the people who would be evicted as a result. Nevertheless, the Board of Trustees of the private foundation (Fundació Junta Constructora del Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família) which oversees the construction and management of La Sagrada Familia has declared its resolve to continue the project to its completion, regardless of obstacles. It’s not clear to me whether the inhabitants who would be displaced would receive adequate compensation for the loss of their homes and businesses, although the La Sagrada Familia Foundation does maintain resources for social welfare projects. There are indications that the La Sagrada Familia Foundation trustees might be willing to compromise, perhaps by consenting to a modified design in which the staircase would be narrower than originally planned and thus affect fewer residents. As of last report (at least any that I am aware of), negotiations were still in progress between the Barcelona City Council and the La Sagrada Familia Foundation over the future of the staircase. It will be interesting to find out what resolution is eventually reached.

As we were leaving La Sagrada Familia, across the Carrer de Mallorca we found a souvenir shop with a scale model of the completed basilica in a glass case. I photographed the model so as to show how the basilica will look as viewed from each direction – north, south, east and west. I was struck by the degree to which the completed basilica resembles a Hindu temple in its ornate complexity.

This page has presented a sketchy, unsophisticated and quite inadequate effort to describe the glories of what I consider one of the supreme architectural achievements of human civilization. For a more complete and authoritative account, I refer the reader to the series of booklets published by the Sagrada Familia Foundation, which are easily accessed on the World-Wide Web.

On the morning of November 19, 2017, a somewhat reduced Go-Ahead tour group boarded the high-speed AVE (Alta Velocidad Española) train in Madrid’s Atocha Station to leave for Barcelona. Reduced, because not all the members of the original group elected to take the optional extension to Barcelona, some of them having been there previously or just not wanting to go for one reason or another. For those of us who did take the extension, however, it was a memorable experience, beginning with the train ride.

AVE is Spain’s version of the Japanese Shinkansen (Bullet Train), which I had ridden during my trip there in 1996. It makes the 625 kilometer (388 mile) journey from Madrid to Barcelona in three hours. I like trains and prefer train to air travel for in-country trips, and I wish the USA had more passenger trains, especially the high-speed versions. The AVE train was comfortable, the ride was smooth and scenic, and we were in Barcelona almost before we knew it.

In fact, we arrived so early that much of even a short November day was still ahead of us — so much that we had time for an afternoon excursion to a destination an hour’s drive from Barcelona, and four thousand feet above sea level.

The latest incarnation of our faithful tour bus took us to the hamlet of Monistrol, deep in the Montserrat mountain range, part of the Catalan Pre-Coastal Range. There we debarked in a parking lot next to the C-55 highway and walked across a footbridge over the El Llobregat River to the Aerí de Montserrat cable-car station, where we boarded a gondola that took us up 1,236 meters (4,055 feet) to the Benedictine Abbey of Santa Maria de Montserrat.

The name “Montserrat” means “serrated mountain” in Catalan. I should mention at this point that Catalan, while it is a member of the Romance language family closely akin to Castilian, the national standard language of Spain, is nevertheless not merely a dialect of what we think of as “Spanish” but a separate language, distinct from Castilian, like Portuguese. Catalan is the indigenous and official language of the autonomous region of Catalonia as well as the Balearic Islands and the community of Valencia (where it is called “Valencian”). It is spoken in other parts of Spain adjacent to Catalonia and even in small enclaves in France and Sardinia as well. Like Castilian and other Romance languages it evolved from dialects of vulgar Latin during the early Middle Ages. During the Reconquista and the late medieval period Catalan was spoken in wide areas of the Kingdom of Aragon, but with the unification of Spain in the early modern period, and especially from the 18th century onward, the Spanish monarchy made concerted efforts to assimilate the minority regions of Spain, including not only political and economic but cultural institutions, into the dominant Castilian society. This entailed the replacement of regional languages such as Catalan and Basque with the Castilian language. There was a brief period of relaxation during the Second Spanish Republic (1931-39), but under the Francoist dictatorship (1939-1975) repression of the Catalan language and culture was reimposed and redoubled. Use of the Catalan language was banned in schools, religious institutions and public administration. Nevertheless, the language survived and after the Spanish transition to democracy, beginning in 1975, Catalan came to be recognized as the official language of government, education and mass media in Catalonia and Valencia; its teaching in schools there is mandatory.

One manifestation of that renaissance is the ubiquity of signage in Catalan in Catalonia. This is sometimes a source of confusion to tourists who are unaware of the distinction between Catalan and Castilian. For example, references to “Sant Joan” at Montserrat have led people to ask “What was Joan of Arc doing at Montserrat Abbey?” “Joan” is of course the Catalan form of the name “Juan”, rendered in English as “John”. For the most part I shall be using the Catalan forms of place and personal names in this post, with some exceptions where sources cited use the Castilian or Anglicized versions.

Before boarding the cable car, I was able to shoot a few pictures to capture the majesty of the jagged peaks of Montserrat and the serenity of the valley of the El Llobregat River.

The cable-car ride was the most exciting part of the trip and gave me an opportunity to shoot some spectacular photos of the mountains and the valley beneath us.

The mountain into which we ascended is composed of pink conglomerate, a form of sedimentary rock made up of rounded gravel-sized pieces of rock surrounded by finer-grained sediments such as sand, silt, or clay. The larger fragments within conglomerate are called clasts, while the finer sediment surrounding the clasts is called the matrix.  The dominant type of rock in the conglomerate is limestone cemented by calcite. These are high-carbonate minerals, and their abundance in this area is associated with the formation of landforms such as cave systems and karst towers. The caves we could not see, but the towers comprising the cliffs of Montserrat were strikingly evident as we made our ascent.

Perched on top of one of the cliffs to our left was the Creu de Sant Miquel, or St. Michael’s Cross; its site is a popular hiking destination providing stunning panoramic views of the mountains and valleys roundabout. Nearing the upper terminus of the Aerí, I was able to see and photograph “The First Mystery of Joy – The Annunciation” (in Catalan, I Misteri de Goig: L’Anunciació de l’àngel a Maria), a monumental work of late 19th-century Catalan sculptural art located in a glen partway down the mountainside. It is part of the Monumental Rosary of Montserrat, a set of religious-themed sculptural works located on a path that leads from the Monastery of Montserrat to a cave where an image of the Virgin of Montserrat was supposedly found in 880 CE.  According to legend, church authorities tried to remove the image to the town of Manresa, 18 kilometers away, but as they did so the image became heavier and heavier until it was finally impossible to move, and it became clear that the divine will mandated that the image was to be venerated on the mountain of Montserrat; all of which ultimately resulted in the foundation of Montserrat Abbey in 1025. Actually, the Virgin of Montserrat, commonly known as La Morenata (more about it later), is most likely a 12th-century sculpture carved from beech and poplar wood.

Be that as it may, the First Mystery of Joy is the first stop on the Camí de la Santa Cova, a path excavated in the mountain between 1691 and 1704. The sculptures, however, were only added much later – the First Mystery of Joy, the Annunciation, was created in 1896. There are fifteen Mysteries in all – five each of Joy, Sorrow and Glory. The path reputedly takes about 45 minutes to walk. We did not venture on it ourselves, as we needed the entire afternoon to see the Abbey itself.

Among the contributors to the Rosary was the architect Antoni Gaudí i Cornet, whom we shall meet again in Barcelona. He was responsible for the design of the First Glorious Mystery, the resurrection of Jesus. It is noteworthy for being the only one of the Mysteries given a theatrical scenography treatment: a cave was excavated in the rock to depict the cenotaph of the resurrected Christ, attended by four figures sculpted in white stone – his mother, kneeling by the cenotaph, accompanied by an angel and two other women; hanging outside and above the cave is a bronze figure of Jesus. Gaudí had a somewhat difficult relationship with Montserrat; one previous engagement to work at the site had been interrupted by war and another ended badly because he could not get along with the diocesan architect Francisco de Paula del Villar. His work on the First Glorious Mystery did not proceed smoothly either; because of progressive reductions in the funding for the project, he lost interest and eventually turned it over to his assistants to complete.

The Aerí de Montserrat cable car is only one of several ways to reach the Abbey. You can also hike, of course, or drive up a winding road. However, there is also a rack railway, the Cremallera de Montserrat, which like the cable car originates in Monistrol. (A rack railway has an extra toothed rack rail, engaged by cog wheels or pinions on the trains, enabling them to climb grades of up to 45 degrees, whereas regular friction-based rail trains can climb grades of 5.7% degrees at the most.)

In addition to the rack railway, there are two funicular railways based at Montserrat. A funicular, in contrast to a rack railway, uses a system of cables and pulleys, with an external motor for propulsion. Two cars are connected to the same cable, their weight counterbalancing one another. The Sant Joan funicular (not to be confused with Joan of Arc) takes up where the rack railway leaves off, connecting Montserrat Abbey to sacred sites and viewpoints higher up on the mountain. With a maximum gradient of 65%, it is the steepest funicular in Spain. Finally, there is the Funicular de la Santa Cova, which goes the other way, down the mountain, to a terminal at the end of the Camí de la Santa Cova, the path leading to the Holy Grotto where the Virgin of Montserrat image was supposedly found in 880. Each of these railways has its own terminal at Montserrat; they are all operated by Ferrocarrils de la Generalitat de Catalunya (Catalan Government Railways, FGC), which also operates suburban rail lines in and around Barcelona. In contrast, the Aerí de Montserrat is operated by a separate, private company with no connection to the FGC.

After alighting from the cable car, we proceeded on foot straight to the Abbey, bypassing the funicular terminals since we did not have time to explore the attractions to which they ran. Our first stop at Monserrat was to be the abbey church, or basilica.

Construction of the basilica of Montserrat began in the 16th century. But it was completely destroyed during the Peninsular War of 1807-1814 and had to be rebuilt from scratch. In 1881 Pope Leo XIII granted it the status of minor basilica, a title accorded to important pilgrimage churches and national centers of the faith.

In 1901 a façade was completed in Plateresque revival style, the work of Francisco de Paula del Villar y Carmona. After the Spanish Civil War, between 1942 and 1968, a new façade by Francesc Folguera i Grassi was added, which incorporates a bell tower. This did not replace the 1901 façade; instead it was constructed as a kind of extension to the basilica, with the old façade enclosed by and the new and accessed through the open-air atrium, which is called called del Abat Argeric. 

A variety of sculptures and other works of art are displayed in the arcades around the courtyard. Most of these are of Catholic saints and church figures, but secular personages are represented as well. Represented among the saints is St. Ignatius of Loyola, who founded the Society of Jesus (Jesuits) in Paris in 1541. Born in 1491, he was of Basque origin, a scion of the minor nobility. At the age of seventeen he embarked upon a military career, but a severe wound in the French wars of the early 16th century ended that phase of his life in 1521. During his recovery, he underwent a religious conversion and decided to go on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Before doing so, however, he visited the Abbey of Montserrat in 1522; and he spent some time in Catalonia after his return as well, before moving on to university studies in theology.

A less famous saint whose statue graces the basilica atrium is St. Anthony Mary Claret (1807-1870), archbishop of Santiago, Cuba and confessor of Isabella II, Queen of Spain from 1833 to 1868. He was also the founder of the Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, commonly called the Claretians.

Among the secular figures represented in the arcade galleries is King John I of Aragon (1350-1396), who reigned there from 1387 to his death. He has been called “a man of insignificant character, with a taste for verse.” His reign was financially and politically a disaster for Aragon. Established as an independent entity after separating from the Kingdom of Navarre after 1035, the medieval Kingdom of Aragon profited greatly from a dynastic merger with the County of Barcelona (i.e. Catalonia) in 1150, as well as from the progress of the Reconquista, which resulted in the addition of Valencia and Majorca. Following the merger, which created a new political entity called the Crown of Aragon, the Aragonese also acquired important overseas territories (Sicily, Naples, Sardinia, parts of Provence in France, parts of Greece including the Duchy of Athens). Under John I, many of these territories were lost, though some of them only temporarily. However, he was a generous patron of the Abbey of Montserrat, which earned him the statue in the gallery.

Two noteworthy figures of the early 16th century have tombs (sepulchres) in the gallery, though I’m unaware of how they got there since they greatly predate its construction; whether they were already there or were moved from somewhere else, I don’t know. One of them is Bernat II de Vilamarí (1471-1512), Admiral of Aragon and Naples, Count of Capacho; the other is Juan de Aragón y de Jonqueras, Count of Ribagorza (1457-1528), Viceroy of Catalonia and Naples. Bernat, or Bernardo, II was a scion of the powerful Catalan Vilamarí family, and his father, Bernat I, who died in 1463, was an admiral in the service of the King of Aragon. In Bernat II’s lifetime the crowns of Aragon and Castile were dynastically united by the marriage of Ferdinand II of Aragon to Queen Isabella of Castile in 1469. But legally and administratively they remained separate entities, and Bernardo remained in the service of the Aragonese crown. He also took service at various times under the King of Naples, which was a separate kingdom though dominated by Aragon. He led the Aragonese and Neapolitan fleets in the wars against the Turks, the suppression of the Catalan rebellion against the King of Aragon (1472), the conquest of Granada, and the Italian wars which pitted the Spanish monarchs against Venice, Genoa and France.

Juan II de Ribagorza, also buried at Montserrat, was an illegitimate son of a previous Count of Ribagorza who was himself an illegitimate son of King John II of Aragon. Juan II was thus a nephew of Ferdinand II, King of Aragon, who appointed him to succeed Gonzalo Fernández de Córdoba (1453-1515) as viceroy of Naples. Gonzalo de Córdoba was a spectacularly successful general who had succeeded in expelling the French from the Kingdom of Naples after they had twice invaded and occupied it (1494 and 1503). Known as El Gran Capitán, he was considered the author of the military reforms which made possible the Spanish domination of Europe in the 16th and early 17th centuries. Nevertheless, Ferdinand II did not entirely trust him because he was a Castilian and replaced him with Juan II de Ribagorza in 1507. Juan II had previously been Viceroy of Catalonia (1496-1501). But whereas Gonzalo’s administration had been a roaring success – his popularity there was one reason Ferdinand did not trust him – Juan II’s was a catastrophic failure. Attempting to levy extra taxes to finance the military forces, he evoked a popular revolt which forced him to leave Naples in 1509. He was then appointed again to be in charge of Catalonia in 1512, but he soon was forced out of that post also.

There are also a couple of wall paintings in the atrium: the Visit of the Catholic Monarchs to Montserrat and Visit of Don John of Austria to Montserrat, both completed by the Catalaan artist Francesc Fornells-Pla in 1921. I photographed only the second of these, and it is included in the gallery below.

In the basilica itself, we first visited the Baptistery, which we entered via an elaborate portal sculpted by Charles Collet (1902-1983), a Swiss sculptor who settled in Catalonia in the 1920s and lived most of his life there. Next we toured the single-nave church, with its dome and main altar with enamels depicting various Biblical scenes such as the Last Supper.

Because time was short, we bypassed the remaining chambers of the basilica such as the Room of the Virgin, where the La Moreneta image is displayed, the Throne Room, and the various chapels. If I remember correctly, we did visit the Museum, located next to the basilica, but I did not take any pictures inside. It boasts many works by eminent artists, some of which can be seen on its web page in Wikipedia.

There was a great deal to see just wandering around the grounds of the Abbey, in the limited time left before we had to go back to Barcelona. At the top of the stone stairway which climbs from the abbey plaza to the museum entrance, I found a statue of St Jordi (George), who along with the Virgin of Montserrat is the patron saint of Catalonia. I personally found it rather ugly, but it is a prominent work of Catalan modernism, of which the sculptor, Joseph Maria Subirachs, was one of the foremost exponents. He was also responsible for other noteworthy pieces at Montserrat, such as the Stairway to Heaven, which we’ll see shortly.

It was nearly dusk when we said “Adéu” (goodbye in Catalan) to Montserrat Abbey and headed for the bus stop. On the way I was able to shoot some lovely late-afternoon views of the mountain landscape and a few last scenes of Montserrat. Unfortunately my photo of Joseph Maria Subirachs’ Stairway to Heaven shows only the top part since most of it was below the level of the road we were walking on, but you can see it in its entirety, and read more about it, on its web page.