Obsession in stone A celestial vision
slowly takes form
By Dana Hawkins Simons More than mere
structures, the works of Catalan architect Antonio
Gaudi delight the senses and ignite the imagination.
His constructions--such as the tile-encrusted,
undulating benches of Parc Guell and the
otherworldly, wavy facade of the La Pedrera
apartment building--are alive with movement.
Sprinkled around Barcelona, they have come to
symbolize the creative spirit of the city.
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None
has more mystique than his masterwork, the quirky
cathedral called Sagrada Familia. A fantasy world of
spires and stone stalagmites, it is still unfinished
after more than 100 years, slowed mostly by money
shortages but also by political turmoil and the
challenge of turning Gaudi's vision into stone.
The structure and its epic story have fascinated art
historians, drawn wayward souls back to God, and
spurred admirers to call for Gaudi's elevation
to sainthood.
The architect was inseparable
from his creation. The gloomy, eccentric genius
spent his last years living in the crypt of the
Sagrada Familia. "He worked, ate, slept, and,
in the end, was buried inside of her," says
historian and Gaudi expert Daniel Giralt-Miracle.
"He never had a family; he was married to the
Sagrada Familia. The relationship was, in his case,
a very obsessive passion."
Gaudi took
over the project in 1882 and turned a plan for a
conventional Gothic church into a unique
illustration of ardor. Art historians have described
his style as a mix of art nouveau, surrealism,
cubism, and neo-Gothic--"a wild stylistic
kleptomania," says Gijs van Hensbergen in his
book Gaudi. More than anything else, he was inspired
by nature. Twisting columns of basalt, granite, and
porphyry rise in the church's interior.
Branching at the top, they create the illusion of a
stone forest, with light filtering from above as
through leaves.
Gaudi illustrated his ideas
with models more often than on paper. "Nature
was Gaudi's model, and nature doesn't make
projects on paper," explains Joan Bassegoda,
curator of the Sagrada Familia. He was known to
experiment with weights and string to calculate the
stress on arches, and his structures, improbable as
they appear, have held up well.
Even so,
"it's not so simple to build a Gaudi
structure," says Jordi Bonet, 78, the architect
in charge of the Sagrada Familia project for the
past 17 years. "Skyscrapers are easier, with
their straight lines and vertical columns."
Thankfully, advanced computer programs, which allow
Gaudi's complex geometric forms to be analyzed
and turned into construction plans, are doubling the
rate of progress, says Bonet.
Patience. The
temple is now 60 percent complete. Eight of 18
spiraling towers are built; the tallest, 170 meters
high and capped with a gigantic cross, is scheduled
to be finished in 20 years. But it could take 40
years or more to complete the project. The pace of
work depends largely on the generosity of the
public, whose donations--about $ 10 million last
year--fund the construction.
A smaller campaign
is afoot to turn Gaudi into a saint. Over 500
devotees worldwide claim their prayers were answered
after they appealed to the monkish, austere
architect. There are letters from a man in Chile who
says he was cured of cancer, a girl in Switzerland
whose lost architecture school project magically
re-appeared, and--perhaps as a nod to the
rock-carved appearance of the Sagrada
Familia--testimonials from dozens of believers who
passed kidney stones.
When might the faithful
begin to pray, officially, to St. Gaudi for cures or
advice on building a sturdy outdoor deck? Chuckles
Josep Manuel Almuzara, the architect leading the
beatification process: "That's even more
difficult to answer than the question of when will
the Sagrada Familia be completed."