Catalan Music Palace (Palau de la Música Catalana)

22 December 2017

I think maybe denial is a coping strategy that is underrated. “I’m not sick.” It just pisses me off to lag or slow down the travel in any way. Lorena has to bully me at times to slow down. I hate to admit it, but I know it true and she is right. Anyway, today we went to the music concert hall and then just shopped and stayed low.

This AM I saw a bus and just started running. Now I don’t have the lungs or breath to run but damn if I am going to slow down this adventure. Lorena gets on after me and we plop down breathing hard. “Is this the V13? “ Hell if I know, I thought Lorena indicated to get on. I felt terrible that we were on the wrong bus and then bang- it is the V15 which is actually the correct bus. Who knew we needed the VA 15 all along? This is the magic of traveling. You try and control things but there is so much left to chance when you half understand what is going on. It shines a light on how little control you have. It makes me laugh.

There are several basic BCN sights we have somehow missed along the way, and the Palau de la Música Catalana is one of them. This late 19th century Modernista extravaganza was designed by Lluís Domènech i Montaner, one of Gaudí’s contemporaries, and the same architect that designed the incredible public hospital (now museum) of Sant Pau. Barcelona’s “Modernista” aligns with Art Nouveau, and predates the more minimalist abstractions of Picasso and other modernist artists. Its pleasure for me comes out of its excesses. For me it aligns with camp sensibility or with rococo.

The palace is magical with all the mosaics and tiles. There are lots of steps and Lorena’s knee is hurting her so she asks to take the elevator (it is right there next to the steps). The guide stands up on steps above the whole group and calls out to the guard, “come over here, this one needs the elevator“ followed by the explanation that “security” would need to be involved. It was so awful and I felt bad for Lorena but it all happened so fast I did not know what to do. (boy do I hear the helper in that statement). Anyway, Lorena said, “no, no it’s all right” and we continued on.

The tour guide at the Palau de la Musica Catalunya began with a spiel about even though the name betrays a centering in Catalunya, this is an international enterprise: “look at the international musicians and donors who are represented!” Donor’s names are pasted on a column inside a circular staircase, and she challenges us to “look for your country” in the list of corporations. Nobody seems to want to play along.

The message was the reach of the Palau goes well beyond Catalunya to embrace internationalism! To me it feels like internationalism in the service of nationalism. I’m probably oversensitive to this

dynamic, but all this international messaging seems to be only another way to support the claim of nationhood by positioning Catalunya as culturally among equals when it comes to the art of other European nations: Beethoven, Wagner, Chopin, Verdi shoulder to shoulder with Catalonian composers and musicians. Who says the arts don’t matter?

After the music house we check out the big Ingles Dept. store on Catalonia Square (another obvious “sight” we had missed). We head for the cafeteria for coffee after I get a new filter for my camera. The views are great fun. After a break in the apartment, we eat about 3:00 at the local restaurant across the street. The rest of the afternoon is spent shopping for food stuff. We dine at 8:00 on an extraordinary tuna salad. The TV news is all about the lottery drawing.

The Christmas lottery is elevated to a sacrament here. They get a pair of children to sing out the numbers–this time there were two girls. It goes on all day and people are glued to their TVs. Winners celebrate by spewing Cava onto onlookers. Can’t find any news about the election.