Genius? Madman? Both?

Architect Antoni Gaudi magnificent master of Modernism

This is the first of a three-part series on the Modernist architect Antoni Gaudi.

BARCELONA — It is fairly easy to get a look at works of art. Want to see a Picasso? There’s a show somewhere. Maybe pop to a Miro exhibition playing nearby. Hop in the car and visit the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston for their latest Van Gogh exhibition. Or check out the Rauschenbergs at the Museum of the Gulf Coast. There are exhibitions of art by Monet, Rembrandt, Leonardo somewhere accessible on a fairly regular basis — and that doesn’t include the individual paintings in museum collections that are on permanent display.

But what about architecture? One can’t jump in the car to see the latest touring house that has been shipped over from, for example, Spain. In order to see a great architectural artist’s work, one must necessarily be on-site. So, for a chance to see the works of Antoni Gaudi, a trip to the Catalan city of Barcelona was the only option.

I had read many books over the years about Gaudi’s work and devoured many pictures. But seeing the artistry and attention to detail, to see the buildings as more than the sum of their parts, was breathtaking. My original intention was to write a single article about Gaudi, but I quickly realized that would be woefully inadequate. So this is the first of three that will, hopefully, at least go part way to exploring the brilliance of Gaudi’s creative output — a brilliance that rivals the greatest painters and sculptors.

Gaudi was born June 25, 1852, in Catalonia in Northeast Spain. There is some speculation where he was born. His father was a coppersmith, and his mother was the daughter of a coppersmith. Young Antoni was intelligent, but at age 6 he was diagnosed with an unexplained condition that affected his muscles and bones. Doctors suggested limiting Antoni’s physical activity, and the boy was carried to school on a donkey, which led to ridicule from other students and made the already quiet boy more introverted.

Antoni enrolled in the Escoles Pies, a Catholic school in Reuss, when he was 11. According “Antoni Gaudi: The Life and Legacy of the Architect of Catalan Modernism” by Charles River Editors, he was unmotivated by subjects he was not interested, but excelled at geometry. However, it was at Escoles Pies that Gaudi discovered his deep faith, which was only to intensify and was to drive his career toward his ultimate project — La Sagrada Familia. But for now, he was looking toward a career.

When he was 16, Gaudi moved to Barcelona to train as an architect. After taking preliminary courses to be eligible, Gaudi was accepted at Escuela Técnica Superior de Arquitectura — the Upper Technical School of Architecture. He was a frustrating student, often skipping classes to study on his own, which earned him rebuke, before showing up with drawings or projects that surpassed the original brief. Throughout his life, Gaudi preferred his own company and his own way of working.

As his self-studies progressed, Gaudi began to gather his influences — Gothic art, Far-Eastern architecture, Art Nouveau among them — and he followed the philosophy of English critic John Ruskin and Arts & Crafts founder William Morris of “artisanal ornamentation.”

Gaudi was certainly eccentric. As well as being a solitary figure, his daily routine consisted of large amounts of water, fresh air and a diet of lettuce dunked in milk, unsalted nuts and stewed vegetable stalks. He was also known to snack on raw eggs, shells and all. He would eat plain bread and crackers with a splash of olive oil. “Life and Legacy” also claims Gaudi would only eat “after having rinsed his hands with clean drinking water and the spaces between them then meticulously scrubbed with coarse breadcrumbs.”

When his mother died in 1876, Gaudi took commissions in order to pay his tuition bills. He advertised his service at discounted rates to anyone who would take a chance on him and slowly built his résumé. After many rejections, he was finally commissioned design the niche and apse of the Monastery of Montserrat. The project was completed without a hitch (and on time, something that would not always be a Gaudi trait), and his reputation quickly grew. As well as architectural projects, he also worked for the industrial machinery firm Padrós i Borras as a draughtsman.

In 1874 he joined the army as an administrative assistant, serving three years without seeing action. In 1876, Gaudi was part of the design team for the Centennial International Exhibition in Philadelphia, the first official World’s Fair in the U.S. They presented a decagonal brick building that wowed the 10 million visitors.

Finally, in 1878, the dean of Escuela Técnica picked four students based on their portfolios for early graduation, Gaudi being one. Typically, Gaudi was unimpressed with the honor, arguing that the degree was a formality as he already considered himself a fully practicing architect.

At the graduation ceremony, the dean uttered words that have become an essential part of Gaudi lore. “I am not sure to whom I presented a diploma today,” he said, “to a genius or a madmen.”

The answer to the question is undeniably and magnificently both. Seeing a Gaudi house up close is a marvelous experience. The attention to detail, both inside and out, reveals an obsessive personality who is not content to let the tiniest feature be less than perfect. And the ornamentation is stunning, with the artist’s hands on everything, from door handles to light fixtures, from chimneys to windows.

Two excellent examples in Barcelona show Gaudi’s development — Casa Vicens and Casa Batllo. Vicens is an example of Gaudi’s incorporation of Eastern influences. Casa Vicens is located in the Gracia suburb and was built 1883 to 1888 (although Gaudi initially received the commission in 1878 fresh out of school). The use of glass tiles and the geometry of the design shows the artist’s early mastery of ornamentation.

In “Gaudi: The Complete Buildings,” Rainer Zerbst writes, “One can hardly imagine a more extravagant debut for a young architect. It rises before one like a fairytale castle from the ‘Arabian Nights’ … And yet, in reality, it is quite a small house, and not even the home of a prince, but the residence of a brick and tile manufacturer” (Manuel Vicens). Zerbst adds that the house combines the Spanish bourgeois tradition (using surprisingly cheap stone) and the centuries-old Arabic tradition. Casa Vicens, Zerbst argues, is Spanish at the bottom and becomes more Arabic towards the top — maybe even Persian.

Casa Vicens has the look of a house built of Lego pieces, with angular pieces stepped out from walls that incorporate towers. The tiles form checkerboard patterns of blue and white on the upper floors, and the orange accents are tiles illustrated with roses like those that grew in the Vicens garden. It is the towers and the checkerboard tile work that is most reminiscent of the Moorish structures of southern Spain. Casa Vicens is a stunning piece of ostentation, revealing a young architect in no doubt of his ability. Others, less sure of themselves, would have made their first commission safer in its creativity. Not our mad genius.

Perhaps it is here that a quick history of Spanish tile is needed, before we move from the checked Casa Vicens to Casa Batllo. Spain had a reputation for fine tile during medieval times and pre-dating the Muslim invasion in 711. Churches and palaces incorporated the tile, and it quickly spread to ordinary homes (something that is still evident today), especially in indoor patios. Glazed tiles are enameled with metallic and glass oxides, making them durable and also glossy. In Casa Vicens, Gaudi used the tiles in an artistic and exciting, yet traditional manner. For Casa Batllo, he literally broke with tradition.

Casa Batllo (pronounced bat-yo) is located at 43, Passeig de Grácia. It is one of three houses dubbed “Manzana de la Discordia” — the Block of Discord — by Barcelonans. The name comes from the Greek myth of the wedding between Peleus and Thetis. All the gods were invited to the wedding with the exception of Eris, the goddess of discord. Eris came to the wedding bearing a gift of a golden apple inscribed with the word “kallisti” — “for the fairest”. The goddesses fought to claim the apple until Zeus ordered Paris, the Prince of Troy, to select the fairest goddess. He chose Aphrodite. Of course, the whole thing kicked off the war between the Greeks and Trojans — Helen, a thousand ships, etc. — but you get the point.

In this case, three relatively non-descript buildings were commissioned by three different Modernist architects. Casa Llao Morera at No. 35, designed by Lluís Domènech i Montaner; Casa Amatller at No. 41, designed by Joseph Puig i Cadafalch; and Casa Batllo, commissioned by the textile merchant Josep Batllo I Casanovas, which was to refurbish the existing Colegio Teresiano. It should come as no surprise that Gaudi’s contribution is my favorite, although the other two are magnificent in their own right.

By 1904, when Casa Batllo began its reconstruction, Gaudi was at the peak of his powers, with his grasp of the interplay between natural forms and functionality. Gaudi removed the existing façade of the building and replaced it with curves and plant-like balconies. The coating of the building has shapes and textures that look like a lizard’s skin and the curve of the roof certainly looks like scales.

Gaudi gutted the building and inserted his singular vision. The hallway resembles an undersea cavern with the wooden staircase leading to the surface. Our tour group was the first in the first-floor apartment (I totally recommend the guided Gaudi walking tour, not least because of the line skipping feature). The few minutes we were alone allowed us to bask in the brilliance of Gaudi’s vision. The pillars by the front windows supported the original front of the building, showing where he had built out the façade. The woodwork was flowing and organic, with each wall unique. Gaudi’s hand is in every aspect of the design, from the ornate door handles to the stained glass that is inserted into the wooden wall frames.

The ceiling swirls around as if one is standing inside a giant seashell circling a chandelier. In keeping with Gaudi’s philosophy that there are no straight lines in nature, every wall is curved. The apartment is a holistic experience of human functionality and natural spirituality.

The house has a traditional central atrium that runs from floor to ceiling to aid with air circulation. Gaudi tiled the entire five-stories to subtly fade from light blue at the bottom where the light is darkest to darker blue at the top near the skylight, giving the illusion of a conformity of color. Gaudi thought that the Mediterranean light was the most beautiful and made sure that it seeped into the building at every opportunity.

Of the three architects on the block of discord, only Gaudi also refurbished the back of the house, unseen from the street. On the back terrace, one sees an ornately tiled wall that serves as a plant holder. Even the backside of the roof line is decorated with broken tiles.

Climbing the curved and carved organic-looking stairs, one finally reaches the roof with its strange sculptural chimneys, each unique in shape and decoration. It is almost surreal; no wonder Salvador Dali revered the architect.

­­­The house is an amazing work of art, made all the more impressive by the fact that all of the ornamentation is also highly functional. Everything is designed to make the operation of the household run smoothly, from the smallest cubbyhole to the air ducts and lighting.

Also on display are examples of the furniture that Gaudi designed to be in the home, each piece unique and reflecting Gaudi’s philosophy that “Nothing is invented, for it’s written in nature first.”

While we may wander the halls of museums gazing at the greatest master artists, Gaudi’s museum is the city of Barcelona itself. Turning a corner and encountering one of these magnificent artworks is as thrilling as any artwork in any forum.

Next: Park Guell — creating art and community

Story by Andy Coughlan, ISSUE editor

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