The Prado, At Last!

A few days ago, we passed our ten-month anniversary of being in Madrid. And we had lunch with two of MamaDuck's colleagues, one of whom is definitely leaving, and the other one is thinking about it. We were talking about the things we'd all done in Madrid, and the things that we hadn't. One of the things that none of us had done was to visit the Prado.

In case you don't know, the Prado is one of the world's top art galleries. MamaDuck and I had always had it on our list of things to do, but never actually got round to it. We would walk past it on Sundays (when entrance is free to everybody) and be discouraged by the long queues.

As the teaching year winds down, MamaDuck found that she had a long morning free today. And she suggested that we spend it at the Prado. We would have to pay €6 each to get in. That's a bit less than the price of a cinema ticket. So we went for it. The seemingly long queues to buy tickets and to enter the galleries turned out to be clumps of Japanese tourists waiting for their guides; not part of any queue at all. So getting in was actually quite painless.

MamaDuck and I have quite different ways of looking at art; she likes to spend about three centuries looking at every single painting, while I just whizz past each one. She had a plan for this visit; she wanted to focus on Velazquez. So we found the main Velazquez room, and I did it in about five minutes. Not because I don't admire his work - he was a superb painter. But he was hampered by being Court Painter to the ugliest king (and rellies and offspring) who ever lived. I see enough ugliness in real life, and I really don't want my day spoilt by looking at more.

The Prado has a bunch of Rubens, some Van Dycks, some Brueghells, and a ton of stuff by dudes I'd never heard of. It also has a lot of El Grecos, which I did not care for at all. So, we spent an enjoyable couple hours, exclusively on the upper floor. Next time we'll do the ground floor.

Inside CaixaForum

I promised you earlier that I would try to take some shots of the inside of the CaixaForum. Here they are:













Apart from the exhibition spaces, there are two spectacular staircases. At the top of the building is the cafeteria, which is clad on the outside by perforated, oxidised (rusty, to you) iron plate. All very dramatic!

More Art: Igor Mitoraj

Having lived in an Islamic country for more than twelve years, it is more than refreshing to be back in a country where figurative art and the depiction of naked people is not frowned upon or banned. Dubai and Abu Dhabi are trying to re-invent themselves as centres of art and culture. I can't quite see how they'll do it, unless they declare themselves to be religion-free zones. Here's some more naked statues:

Madrid's Art Squiggle

Until the middle of last month, Madrid was famous for its 'Art Triangle' - formed by the Prado Museum, the Reina Sofia and the Thyssen Bornemisza. Now there's a new kid on the block, the CaixaForum. It's halfway between the other three museums, and so I think the triangle has now become a squiggle. This extraordinary building has been under construction for the last six years. The architects are Herzog & de Meuron, who also designed the Tate Modern in London. The name comes from the client/sponsor/owner: La Caixa. This is a kind of bank: actually more like a British building society or a US savings and loan. The bank is more social than commercial, and is committed to spending profits on 'social works' and supporting communities. La Caixa has a string of galleries around Spain.

The client must have Googled 'architects who turn power stations into art galleries'*. CaixaForum is basically an extinct coal-burning power station. But it now has two floors underground. And two extra floors on top clad in rusty iron (I must do a post on the Rusty Shed aesthetic one day). But the remarkable thing is they've taken away most of the ground floor. The building appears to float: there's a whole load of cantilevering going on here. I have no idea how they managed to do it without the original brick structure collapsing (perhaps it did, and that's why it took six years to finish). But it means that if there is a long queue to get in then you are in the shade.





At the front of the building there is a plaza. On one side of the plaza is an amazing vertical garden, designed by Patrick Blanc.



We spent a very relaxed half hour just looking at the garden, and at the kids who have decided that the hollow sculpture of a man's torso is actually a playground.





In days to come I might do a post on the interior, which is also very interesting. I went inside about a week ago, but didn't have my camera with me. The queue today was just too long.



*Although they would not have actually found the architects: either they have no website or it is so badly designed that no search engine can find it.