When a Building Makes Me Cry

Last July, we visited Barcelona, and our trip was nicknamed “GaudiFest”.  Visiting Barcelona is all about Gaudi.  Delight, whimsy, color, inventiveness, structural wonder, innovation and overall brilliance permeate the city.   Our three days were organized around Gaudi’s masterpieces – including Casa Mila, Casa Battlo, Parc Guell, and Sagrada Familia.   Ever since our trip, I wanted to write this piece about my very emotional reaction to Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s epic unfinished cathedral, but (ironically) it remained unfinished.  Today I felt compelled to finish it, and expand my thoughts a bit.

We had been to Barcelona in 2000, so had already experienced the wonder of Gaudi.  At that time, Sagrada Familia’s interior was not completed – the amazing structure, with its iconic “sand castle” like facades and towers, was an incredible experience, like nothing we had ever seen.  But the interior was a construction zone.

Excited for our return visit, we had pre-ordered tickets to climb the Nativity Façade tower, and were rushing through the city to get there on time.  To enter the tower, you first enter through the Nativity Facade, and get a quick glimpse of the interior of the cathedral, then immediately turn right to the tower.  It was as I first entered, that something happened that has never happened to me.  I burst into tears!  I did not have time to process why I was crying, because we were LATE for the tower climb.  So I collected myself and ascended.

When we got back downstairs, after having experienced the up close view of the fantastic and fantastical ornament and framed views of Barcelona, we entered the interior, and once again I burst into tears.

I had never had this reaction to a public building before.   We sat in a pew, took a breath, and took it all in.  What brought about this emotional response?  Was it that the building represented hope and perseverance, that something so long in construction, was finally a reality?  Was it that the incredible structural and material innovation, so ahead of its time, had become a real space?  Was it the memory of being there 18 years ago, and the excitement of seeing a space transformed during that time?  All of these were certainly influences, but what really got to me was the at-once intimate, humanistic, yet mystical, spiritual feeling created in this massive structure.  The feeling was masterfully created with organic elements, color and light.  The towering columns, abstracted trees, each constructed of different materials with its own symbolism, create a magical forest.  And most delightful to me, light streaming through the stained glass windows creates a magical rainbow of spatial volumes.   The light and form play and shift throughout the day, creating an every-changing experience of color, pattern and volume.  The visual experience was taken to another level when a children’s choir began singing….

Until today, I thought that this was a one of a kind reaction for me.  But as I watch Notre Dame burn today, 3,500 miles away, watching the devastation on the news, I’m having a similar emotional response.

Paris is a special space for us.  We’ve been there more times than I can count right now, and it is where we have spent some landmark celebrations – my 50th, our 25th.  Our love for Paris can’t really be put into words – there is a special feeling – the light, the color, the textures; the river, the cafes, the architecture.  No matter what season, we spend most of the time just walking, and immersing ourselves in the physical and experiential beauty of the city, 

We rent apartments on Ile St Louis, the sweet little island in the center of Paris.  A short bridge connects to Ile de la Cite, where Notre Dame sits and commands the true central point of Paris.  Every day, every excursion of ours involves a walk by Notre Dame.  She (we call her “she”) is familiar, she is home away from home, she is how we start our day of adventures, and how we end our day.  She is beautiful, with intricate ornament creating a delightful texture on her facades.  She is especially beautiful at night, when she is lit like a jewel.  She is very popular, with endless lines of tourists queuing to visit.  On our last visit, we waited dutifully to be sure that we could experience the majestic interior once again- we wouldn’t miss seeing that rose window.

But the real impact to me of Notre Dame is her architectural beauty, and her place in the urban fabric of Paris.  Whether walking right next to her, and experiencing the incredible detailed ornament, or seeing her lit at night as we approach down the Seine on the Batobus – she is a stunning landmark, and one that will always have a special place in my heart.  There are many, many people who have a special connection to these buildings, (as I can see from the many, many posts on facebook!), and everyone has their own personal story.  There are many who will react to both of these amazing churches because of their religious affiliation.  Mine is a spiritual reaction, created by the power of design – design that manifests on every level from interior to architectural to urban – that creates an immeasurable sense of place and emotion, and becomes an eternal experiential memory.

-Felice