A Castillian Adventure in Building: Excess by the sea

In a fairly spontaneous trip to the coast this weekend, I went to Valencia, hometown of Spain’s immensely famous engineer-architect Santiago Calatrava. This icon of expressive building structure was what we all wanted to be when we were at uni – Calatrava was the paradigm of what we could achieve with our dual discipline studies: more than an architect with some fundamental engineering principles or an engineer with aesthetic sensibilities; rather a seamless combination of the two superficially conflicting disciplines.

Yet, all I’ve heard about in connection with the firm (it seems unfair to put all the blame on an individual, just as it is ludicrous to lavish all of the glory upon one) during my time in Spain has been spiralling prices, and unbuildable vanity projects. It may well be a function of the crisis-hit country, but I’m unable to go back to the time before the economic crisis (which seems so very distant now, anyway) to check.

Here’s an example of some of the criticism that’s been levelled at the most recent Valencian show-pony, La Ciutat de les Art i les Ciencies (City of Arts and Sciences):

http://www.theguardian.com/world/2012/may/08/architect-santiago-calatrava-valencia

I try to think I went with an open mind (although I had seen this article beforehand), but I tend to agree. As the tingly feeling of having stepped into a futuristic metropolis subsides, you’re left with a sense of overwhelming excess, and the realisation that the place is virtually empty.

Despite each building being a virtuoso structure in its own right, overall it’s just too much for even a massive building geek like me: the buildings, all of the signature Calatrava style but variations on a theme, like the laboratory cast-offs from the tinkerings of a deranged structural genius, compete with rather than complement one another. The overall composition is undermined by its own homogeneity – white tiles, glass and concrete provide the only textures and the branching, treelike structural form is so overused it loses all of its style.

I did like the water. The Ciutat is situated in the dried up bed of the River Turia, so it’s a nice touch to surround everything in water. The downside, of course, is that is augments the sense of distance and isolation which is already excessive. It also doesn’t help that most of the buildings appear to be closed most of the time, or that they are clearly suffering, somewhat prematurely, from the ravages of their coastal environment.

All of this said, I really like Valencia. I’m generally a fan of not-the-capital-city sort of places, especially the ones that aren’t particularly trying to prove anything or be the edgy alternative to the capital. The place felt comfortable, even despite the 80% humidity and the tendency for paths, roads and bike tracks to just suddenly stop as though the builders got distracted or ran out of money or both.

I hired a bike and explored. I spent over an hour wandering around the Mercat Central on Saturday morning, and an hour sketching the vaulting in the Lonja (15^th century commercial exchange) on Sunday afternoon. I meandered the streets, and watched the other tourists. I did not understand any Valenciano.