Climbing the walls

Ten years ago I saw the Pet Shop Boys at the old SOS 4.8 Festival in Murcia. I expected them to be terrible but they were just the opposite. They really engaged with the audience. At one point Neil was talking to us. He said how much he and Chris had enjoyed sitting in the Plaza Cardenal Beluga, in front of the Cathedral in Murcia, with a drink and a snack. "It's beautiful, isn't it, that Cathedral?" The home crowd roared its approval. He's right though. Whatever you think of its purpose Murcia Cathedral is quite a building.

Although the current building was started in 1394 the part you notice first, the frontage or facade, is Baroque in style. To my mind Baroque architecture means that it has lots of twiddly bits just like Baroque music is Handel, Monteverdi and Vivaldi. But, I have a duty to my loyal readership (hello Derek!) to be a bit more specific. Wikipedia tells me that Baroque Architecture is a highly decorative and theatrical style. It began in Italy in the early 17th century and gradually spread across Europe. It was originally introduced by the Catholic Church in an attempt to inspire awe in people in the hope of keeping them from falling into the clutches of the Protestant church.

It might be some sort of local allegiance but I think that Murcia Cathedral is my favourite Cathedral in Spain. Burgos is impressive, Cuenca looks nearly British, Jaén looks so solid, Sevilla is just so big and the position of Zaragoza on the side of the Ebro is so imposing but Murcia bears comparison. Santa María, for that's its name, is individualistic, it has a bit of style, a bit of character all its own. I think it's the asymmetry and that huge, solid, immovable tower off to the left that does it.

Back in September 2023 I noticed that scaffolding was going up on the facade and I thought how sad it would be for our house guests during the next few years. Everyone knows that getting a kitchen extension takes ages, and never gets finished on time, so I reckoned the Cathedral would be visually impaired for quite a while. It's true that the modern screens in front of big project scaffolding are usually interesting in themselves but it's clear that Jaime Bort's facade (there were lots of architects involved in reality but Bort is considered the main man) is probably just a mite more impressive. I suspected that the work would take years even though the timetable said a long year. In October one of the photos in my album shows the scaffolding and there's a caption - "The Cathedral in Murcia is having the facade tidied up. They are advertising that there will be visits up the scaffolding. I keep checking their website. I'll be there.".

And indeed I have been. I think it's a clever idea. As well as putting up the scaffolding for the workers to get on with the restoration, the scaffolders put up a second set of scaffolding so that we, the gawping public, can go up and watch the work on the facade. I've done it twice now. To be honest it's not that great a tour, I don't particularly care for the style of the guide, but that doesn't stop it being a worthwhile experience. The guide talks in something close to a monotone and his spiel goes someone like, "On this level we have four saints - he names the saints - he says that one has the face of the man who commissioned the work on the facade, Cardenal Beluga. He names more saints and the archangels. I read somewhere that, sculpture wise, there are twenty saints, three archangels, a guardian angel and the mysteries of the Virgin (heaven knows what they are) on the facade - the guide named them all. The most exciting he gets is when he asks if anyone knows the Patron Saint of Cartagena (Murcia is in the dioceses of Cartagena and the saint in question is San Ginés de la Jara) or, when he points out San Patricio, Saint Patrick, the Patron Saint of Murcia and makes a quip about shamrocks and black beer. There is very little in the way of those titbits of information, or interesting little stories, that are the bits people remember of a visit long after forgetting that both Santa Bárbara Mayor and Menor have their place on the facade. He doesn't say much about the restoration work going on. So far as I could tell the main thing they seem to be doing at the moment is chipping away some mortar that was added in a 19th Century, in a previous smartening up of the building, which was, apparently, a big mistake. 

They're still saying they'll be done in Autumn of this year but, if you fancy having a look yourself before then, you can book it up online on this link. 

P:S. The photo at the top is an old one. The scaffolding is now covered.

On message

We did a bit of a circular tour last week. Up to Albacete, across to Cuenca and back through Teruel before coming home. 

Along the way we  visited the winery in Fuentealbilla, run by the Iniesta family, (Andrés Iniesta scored the winning goal for Spain in the 2010 World Cup), we looked at the huge 3rd Century AD Roman Mosaic in the tiny village of Noheda and we stayed in Albarracín which has city status even though it's smaller than either Algueña or Salinas. We even visited some old pals in Fuentes de Rubielos in Teruel.

I often think Spanish written information is patchy or poor. I wonder why there is no list of the tapas on offer or why the office doesn't show opening times. I have theories; those theories go from the link between information and power to high levels of illiteracy in the Franco years to the much less fanciful idea that Spaniards simply prefer to talk to a person. There's no doubt that written information here is much better, and more common, than in once was but it can still be woefully lacking.

Raul, who showed us around Albarracín, was a pretty decent guide. He introduced himself, he asked people in the group where they were from, he modulated his voice when telling stories and he spoke louder when someone revved a motorbike or beat a drum within earshot. Nonetheless the information was a bit stodgy - there were a couple of stories but it was still, basically, dates and facts. Years ago, when Maggie worked in Ciudad Rodrigo she helped a couple of young women to prepare for their oposiciones, the official exams for local government and civil service type jobs. Both of them had to be able to present the "official" script, in English, for the cathedral or castle; any deviation from the script was considered an error and would cost them exam marks.

I have another story that ties in with this Spanish idea of memorising things as being good. The first time I came across the Trinity College Speaking exam in English was when I had to help a student prepare for the exam. Her talk was going to be about the first of the Modern Olympic Games. When she'd finished her presentation I asked her a question about it. She replied, in Spanish, that all she needed me to do was to correct the script which she intended to learn and regurgitate. That method was so common in Spain that Trinity changed the exam to ensure that it was a better test of speaking skills.

The tour of the bodega at Fuentealbilla, the introductory welcome to the museum house in Albarracín, the guide who explained the Roman mosaics to us and the volunteer guide who showed us around Albarracín Cathedral were all fine, maybe a bit monotone, a bit emotionless, but fine. There was good information. When the cathedral guide told us that the decoration had been done on the cheap, the marble on the wall was just decorated plaster, the marble columns in the side chapel were painted pine trees, I thought this may lead to a bit of interaction, a bit of story telling. But no. Under such circumstances I often think back to a tour I did around St Peter's in Rome. The story of Michelangelo lying on scaffolding, with Dulux dripping into his eye from painting the Sistine Chapel, swearing at the Pope and complaining that he was a sculptor, not a painter, as he was asked if he could turn his hand to building the biggest dome ever because the tarpaulin draped across the unfinished church was letting in the rain water and giving the Protestants a good laugh. There was a guide who knew how to engage his audience in a tour.

In the Ethnological museum in Cuenca. I was reading one of the "labels" by an exhibit. It was, at least, 500 words long, a side of typed A4 paper. It was full of Spanish words in the style of the English word ashlar. Who ever says ashlar? Isn't dressed stone a bit more accessible? Couldn't they write, ashlar,  finely cut stone, to help out we non architects? I reckon that there was as much reading as in a normal length paperback on the walls of that museum. It takes me a few days to read a novel. Again, all it needs is a bit of thought to do this right. 

At the MARQ, the archaeological museum in Alicante, they do the British newspaper thing of a headline followed by an explanatory paragraph followed by the full story. An example. Let's suppose there are some hats and helmets and other headgear on display. The label title says Visigoth headgear. You can stop there if that's enough for you. Under the title the label says something like: Hats, helmets, scarves and other head coverings were worn by both men and women during the Visigoth rule in Spain (5th to 8th century AD). Whilst most of the headgear had some practical purpose, protection for soldiers, hygienic hair covering for cooks, a sun shade for shepherds etc. the style and decoration also emphasised the importance of the wearer in the social pecking order. Again, stop there if you will but if you're a millinery student looking for inspiration or simply a devout museum goer each exhibit has a longer, explanatory description.

But I would have forgotten all about the guides, and information and museums, if it hadn't been for the TV news yesterday. They said there were a shortage of place in FP courses. Now I happen to know what FP courses are but I wondered why they chose to use initials rather than use the full version. FP=Formación Profesional. The literal translation is Professional Training - it's the sort of training that is more directly work related. I was reminded of my potential blog topic and here it is.

In the Garden of Earthly Delights

El Jardin de la Seda. The Silk Garden, is an unremarkable public green space in Murcia. It has quite a lot of standard model ducks and some of those red faced Muscovy jobs. Joggers and walkers, some in track suits and others disguised in ordinary street clothes, do their stuff. Dog walkers with dogs large and small, some of them keen on battle. There's even the tall chimney left over from the silk factory that gives its name to the garden.

It had been raining. In fact half an hour before we got there it had been pelting down and we had been forced to seek shelter from the storm in a handy bar in the Plaza Circular. I'd even maintained a WhatsApp conversation with Victor, our potential guide, as to whether the walk would go ahead. It's been raining on and off for a couple of weeks now. Last week I posted a photo of a dismal beer festival spoiled by the rain. An old friend in Cambridge saw the photo and commented; "I have made friends with a Spanish woman who now lives in the UK and she says that sometimes in Spain, people don't take their children to school if its raining!" That's why I thought to check with Victor.

Simple idea. This bloke has a company and a doctorate in something botany related. He organises guided tours here and there to look at plants and trees and whatever else botanists are interested in. He's organised a series of walks around various of the green spaces in Murcia and we booked in for the one yesterday evening. It was very good; from ancient palm trees which lived alongside dinosaurs to how to spot sweet and bitter acorns from the shape of the small oak tree, called an encina, typical of large areas of Spain. Oh, and the next time we see a bougainvillea together you'll be amazed by my little known fact about their flowers. The price of the walk was novel too. The Reverse Ticket Office; pay what you think the walk is worth. A real shame that there were only three of us.

Casa Mira

Maggie once helped some people, preparing to be official tourist guides, to get ready for the part of the exam they had to do in English. To be honest I've forgotten the details, then again I forgot why I'd gone back into the kitchen a while ago and I'll probably have to re-read this sentence to see where I'm heading, so that's nothing new. The point, though, was that these people had a scripts to learn for each of the places they were going to show. Word for word scripts.

Now there's nothing wrong with "This cathedral is a milestone in the development of the Gothic, marking a symbiosis of technique and aesthetic that characterises so many other great churches built before the onset of the Renaissance".  I have no idea what it means but that's probably because I'd bunked off school or had a note from my mum that day.

This morning though we had to get up early to get to Novelda for nine in the morning. Novelda is about 25 kilometres from Culebrón and it has some notable Modernista style buildings. Modernista is the stuff we Brits call Art Nouveau - all inlaid wood, and curved lines based on the shapes of plants and flowers. For the past couple of years the tourist office has organised a Modernista Weekend to celebrate the style and we'd signed up to visit a house, Casa Mira, that's not usually open to the public. It had only been possible to book a place by phone after a given time on a set date and it took me ages to get through; I reckon I must have dialled at least 100 times, but it proved to be worth it.

The chap who was showing us around adjusted his straw boater, checked his portable microphone and loudspeaker combo and away he went. He started by talking about how people from Novelda had taken advantage of the early development of railways in Alicante, he talked about how the businessmen had been wheeler dealers who risked their money and invested as distinct from the monied classes who just earn and spend. We got stories about how the entrance way was designed to impress prospective clients, about the current owner sitting at the window and chatting with neighbours, about the people who had worked in the house and so on. I'd be lying if I said that I thought the guide was one of those inspired types you remember forever but he was good enough. It reminded me that it's a long while since we got one of the robot voiced facts and figures monologue tours. So much the better.

No photos though, private property and all that.