Parc Güell
From this vantage point, we can see past one of the park's dreamlike gatehouses, across the city to the Mediterranean Sea.
Towers on the gatehouses were patterned after real mushrooms. The botanical name of the model for this one is Phallus impudicus. I'm not making this up.
All of Gaudí's phantasmagorical curves and color are in play here.
The details are playful and arresting. Here a feline head—a leopard?—forms the spout of a fountain. It's mounted on a red-and-gold Catalan shield.
Many people used the fountain to wash their hands or to get a drink on this hot day.
A wall contained scores of designs formed from broken tiles. I could only photograph a couple of them because of restoration work.
Quilter Jean says these are clay quilts. Exactly.
The tiles were artworks created for use at Parc Güell, each a complete composition in itself. After firing, all were smashed and the pieces reassembled into mosaics. What a concept!
This is called the Room of a Hundred Columns. I didn't count them
The columns are the only classical elements in the design. Even so, Gaudí gave the room a ceiling with his trademark curves...
... and mosaics.
A primitive gallery offers shade and relief from fractured colors and shapes.
The coarse, jagged stones create a form of such precision, such soft curves.
A fence formed of palm leaves protects the grounds from intruders.
The spikes at the top are the most fearsome I've ever seen.
The main square is ringed with the famous Serpentine Bench.
I photographed it from behind for reasons I'll give in the next post.
Parc Güell is an artifact of a real estate development gone bad. Count Eusebio Güell commissioned it as the focal point for a suburb of exclusive homes. But the Count violated the real estate adage: Location, Location, Location. At the time, nobody wanted to live this far from downtown. The Güell heirs were prevailed upon by the city to donate it. We're all lucky they did.