Exhibiting any of Antonio Gaudí's fantastic creations implies that war drums resonate in memory, recalling that nostalgic and at the same time fearful reflection of a romantic Mephistopheles when he commented to a troubled Faust, about his grandmother, the Serpent, referring to 'the old yeast'.
Because it seems very likely that Gaudí, imbued with that apnea or fever of the depths that seems to possess certain poets and writers whose work is beyond time and sometimes of human understanding, where through the silver key that leads to dream world - as Lovecraft exposed in his cycle on Randolph Carter - access to navigation through the subconscious's oceans, holds a special knowledge to the sea of turbulent waters.
Who follows with some interest Gaudí's extraordinary work, will see in it, metaphorically speaking, the obsession of a true captain Ahab committed to the titanic work of dragging into the world of everyday life, something so fantastic and impossible to achieve, as Hermann Melville tried Introduce us to your wonderful whale: Moby Dick.
Of deep Christian convictions, according to his biographers, but lover of Circe Mater in my opinion, the dream of natural reason led this architect of chimeras to bequeath spaces of reconciliation with the environment, which made him a no less priestess of the sanctuaries of respect and tradition.
One of the proofs of such an affirmation, we have it in that misunderstood and badly accepted at the time work of multidisciplinary engineering, which is the Park Güell.
Botanical expert but at the same time apprenticed advantage of that illustrious and inimitable Queen of Alchemy of all time that is Nature, in its inner atmosphere was flowing, with a hot boil, an architectural spirituality that bordered on mysticism.
Misogynist by birthright, the cadence of his inimitable productions, conjured up the eternal musicality of the spheres with the noble symphony of creation.
Obstinate in his right to free interpretation, in the magical fractality of his compositions he shone, like a masterful inheritance of a forgotten magic in Vitrubio's references, those commandments that the medieval stonecutters turned into axioms of the sacred: harmony, balance and proportion.
NOTICE: Both the text and the accompanying photographs are my exclusive intellectual property.
