Culture with Vermut: Antoni Tàpies, Bruce Conner, Tekla Aslanishvili

Irene found an exhibit of some of the video works of Bruce Conner here in Barcelona at an event called "Autumn Vermouths" (in English).  It's at the Antoni Tàpies Foundation building, just a 17 minute walk away. When I looked it up, I realized I'd walked past the building in 2017 and wondered about it: on top of this ornate building was a mass of twisted wire, screen, and rebar; I couldn't decide if it was construction, demolition, or art.  

In the context of artist Tàpies, it makes sense: he celebrated found objects, every day objects, and largely pioneered the movement in connection with Duchamp and others. And today, we got to visit it and check out the art inside!

The building itself was gorgeous inside, mixing wide open museum-style spaces, industrial iron, and a beautiful wood-and-glass-encased library for researchers.

For only 10€ we got a guided tour of the Antoni Tápies exhibit "The Fertilizer that Feeds the Soul". I didn't know anything about him, but he was a pioneer in treating everyday objects and found objects in the context of art. Our guide was enthusiastic and knowledgeable but unfortunately, we didn't understand much as she gave the guided tour in Catalan; totally our fault, and we contented ourselves by reading the English labels. 

Afterwards, there was a reception on the attractive roof deck, where we could see from behind the mass of wires on the façade, as well as a sculpture of a giant sock -- a recurring element in his work, it turns out. And of course the promised vermut with snacks of potato chips and anchovy-stuffed olives.  

Irene worked up the courage to tell her we didn't understand anything, and this broke the ice to a conversation (in our stilted Spanish) about Tápies, Bruce Conner, and modern art in general. 

After the break, we went downstairs to check out the Bruce Conner exhibit "Light out of Darkness". I've been interested in Conner since 1987 when I saw a piece of his at a collector's shop in Georgetown DC, obsessed over it, and finally purchased the lithograph. I've been fortunate to see a lot of his work including films, assemblages, mixed media, and prints in DC at the Smithsonian's Hirshhorn and Katzen Arts Center, and in San Francisco at the SF MOMA and DeYoung Museum. Our guide indicated this was the first time Conner's video work has been exhibited in Barcelona. Some of the pieces I'd seen before, including early (MTV-era) videos for Devo and Talking Heads, but also films focusing on the atomic bomb tests and Kennedy's assassination set to music by Terry Riley. You can see how he pioneered the fast cuts, video overdubs, and other techniques we now take for granted. If you blow up the text in the second image about his video for David Byrne and Brian Eno's "Mea Culpa", it's pretty damning: 

"Although copyright reasons prevented Conner's films from being played on MTV, the film techniques he employed -- the jump cut, flash frame, flickering, reverse editing, fast cutting, double and multiple exposures and the use of found footage -- had a formative influence on just on the experimental film-making of his age, but also on the pioneering phase of the MTV music video"

I'd never heard of the third artist, Tekla Aslanishvili from Georgia but really enjoyed her documentary video "A State in a State". It draws a connection of communication and solidarity between railroad workers from major transport lines including Azerbijan, Georgia, Turkey, Belarus, and Ukraine, before and after the breakup of the USSR. It winds up in the present day with workers agreeing to sabotage lines critical to Russia's current war effort. Her style reminded me of Werner Herzog's documentary work a little, and I was surprised how much I enjoyed learning about conflicts and places I'd only heard about on the radio growing up. 

This event has whetted my appetite to get out and explore more culture, especially modern art, in this rich city.

Enchanted by the energy at El Mercat dels Encants

Seven years ago, we wandered around this amazing piece of architecture, a newly built market with a wild sculpted roofline of gold-foil-like panes -- El Mercat dels Encants. Yesterday, we went to explore it.

Market stalls and people reflected in the gold ceiling; you can make out bolts of fabric in the bottom left

It's a second-hand market that's been operating since the 1300s in different locations outside the old city wall, then within the city, and now in it's amazing new building. Wikipedia points out that the architects designed it to avoid looking like a shopping center. The inside outer walls comprise a series of ramped walkways with stalls, so we could start at the top and work our way down -- sorta like the Guggenheim -- to the ground floor that had a warren of vendors.  Despite "just continue down", we constantly got turned around, or ended up back where we'd been, because each level fanned out into other rows and files of vendors and racks and shops -- a fun way to get lost. 

Before we hit the ground level, we needed some refreshment. Since this is a civilized country, there were several cafes and bars within the Mercat.  We stopped at one that was doing a booming business -- frenetic even -- for some sandwiches and wine, and took in the view of the Torre Glories and Museu Disseny (design museum) nearby.

The upper floors seemed to specialize in new items, as well as antiques, like this gorgeous brass and wood slide projector. There were stores with statues and cherubs, some with military helmets from the Spanish Civil War, others with light fixtures from the 1970s (I didn't check to see if they had lava lamps, sorry). On the ground floor, it was a mosh-pit of random items -- consumer electronics, socks, bolts of fabric, kitchen items, barbeque and paella equipment. 

We looked for a glass pot lid to cover our plancha but didn't find what we needed. I don't think it's a place we'll go to often, like we do our food markets, but if we're in search of something esoteric or want a rush of flea markets and barkers, we'll be back to visit.

Catalan Gins, and a lovely "ranci" Martini

We found a delightful, friendly wine/liquor store a couple blocks away, Art de Vins. When some friends visited from the US, we wanted to do a tasting of three Catalan red wines, and three Catalan gins. It's the gins we're writing about here!

First, we tried the gins straight -- no ice or mixers -- cold from the fridge. Nut London Dry Gin was pretty assertive; it was good, but didn't rock my world. Next up, Gin Mare from the coast: this had a more enjoyable profile for sipping, the winner so far. Finally, we had Mahón gin made on the island of Majorca, which had an enticing herbal/citrus profile, and became our favorite sipper.

The rest of the evening was spent indulging in Gin Tonics, which I make with a 1-to-1 ratio of gin-to-tonic so we can taste the gin.  We felt the Nut gin was the best for this, due to its assertiveness: it didn't get lost in the Schweppes Tonic.

Later in the week, we chose the Mahón for sipping.  When we returned to Art de Vins to restock gin for both G&Ts and sippers, we were very surprised at the cost: the Nut was significantly more expensive than the Mahón; at this price point, we could use Mahón for mixed drinks. 

We wanted a drink to showcase the Mahón, and a Martini is about as gin-forward as you can get. We thought that mixing with one of the omnipresent dark vermuts served as aperitifs around here would be too heavy. Irene hit on using Vi Ranci, a very traditional oxidized wine that we buy in bulk from the same shop: a ratio of 4-to-1 has a good balance.

This was a real win: the aromatics of the gin came through, as well as the unusual nutty taste of the wine; it's fairly dry and needs no garnish. We've dubbed it the "Rancini", and it pairs really well with a stunning sunset -- salud!

Biking Bad: first ride in Barcelona -- from home to Badalona

Our bikes arrived in our shipment from the US, and all we had to do was attach the front wheels and pump up the tires. Sunday was going to be cool and clear, and we wanted to explore Barcelona by bike, sticking to mostly flat terrain -- a ride along the coast seemed to fit the bill. It turned out to be a 29Km (18 mi) ride -- pleasant, mostly protected, and flat. 

The first struggle was getting out of the building: these little elevators barely fit one human and their bike -- standing up -- barely enough room to push the button

We headed out our street, along Gran Via, and kept losing the bike lane: initially, we had our own protected lane along the slip lane, then it diverged at Plaça Universidad, then back again. At Plaça Tetuan, we had to "jump the left, then a step to the right" to go around the top of the traffic circle.  After a while we turned right, heading toward the water on Carrer de la Marina and could see the iconic Torre Mapfre and Hotel Arts buildings:

Torre Mapfre, Hotel Arts

We hit the beach at Port Olímpic, looking over the volleyball courts on Platja de la Nova Icària:

then headed northeast along the coast to see where it would take us. We'd taken the R1 train line up the coast and figured we could follow the path we'd seen from the window -- at least to Badalona across the river, and someday up to Matarò. Turns out we were a little optimistic in the condition of the route.

While some of it was flat paved walkways with lots of folks promenading. We also hit bits of hard packed sand/gravel/soil, which was OK but my bike's skinny tires were not right for it. Further along, more rough patches, and some unexpected raised giant pipes large enough to drive a small car along; not enough for timid bikers with a 10 foot drop to the rocks below, so we walked them along the ridge.

I think Barcelona is doing a lot of work to shore up its ... shore: to protect from sea level rise, old paths may have been torn up for the construction. I expect the city will rebuild the paths, for bikes and pedestrians, even better than before. It's certainly passable, just don't expect pristine smooth riding yet.

We then reached the Parc del Forum which is a massive space with a mix of beaches, ports, sailing, SCUBA diving, long boats, parks, marinas, festival areas, and on and on.  When we visited, we saw folks returning in a an oared longboat, and others practicing diving in wetsuits. But it had a huge feel with not enough people, strangely underutilized. It looks perfect for massive festivals, and I've read these do take place here; I want to return in warmer weather and see what the vibe is like. Visually dominating the site  is a massive photovoltaic (solar) cell array that looks like stadium seating that's lost its stadium. You can ride under it and right up to it for some great views. 

A little farther, over dramatic elevated bike/pedestrian skyways we came to a working port. All the grassland under us was concealing multi-story dry docks for boats! We watched a mammoth forklift  retrieve a boat from the water and deftly take it inside for the winter.

We continued on the on-again, off-again trail -- nothing too arduous or threatening to skinny tires -- and crossed the Rio Besos where there is a wonderful wetland area where freshwater merges with the Mediterranean. We got closer and closer to the Three Chimneys, a massive ex-industrial site that exudes power, grace, and age -- it's magnificent from any angle, and any distance.

We ended up in the suburban area of Badalona, where we biked right into the middle of a booming wholesale market area that went on for blocks in ever direction; everything seemed to be Chinese import dealers. It was vibrant and full of activity -- on a Sunday!  

But after riding, we were ready for some food and drink and headed into the residential and main streets of Badalona. We didn't have to look far to find a friendly place in the sun for a bite -- including Gambas Saladas -- slender pale shrimp, barely cooked, with a good taste of salt, cool and refreshing. Very pleasant with a couple glasses of wine and a Märzen-style beer from Turia in Valencia.

It's fall, and the sun is setting early, which means that the temperature drops quickly here. So we headed back home on what we thought was a good direct route.... Unfortunately, Google Maps doesn't know bike routes in Barcelona, and we were unable to hop over the fenced train tracks for the "best route" home. But we improvised and crossed the Besos again, cycled through some peaceful industrial neighborhoods, and wound up on Avinguda Diagonal, which here had a large tree-lined promenade and separate bike lanes, with tram lines on the side; this was probably my favorite part of the ride: so peaceful and graceful.

We then navigated around some major construction at Plaça de les Glòries, meandered through attractive leafy parks, and ended up on our familiar street, Carrer de la Diputació. This was great, it spanned the entire area of downtown Barcelona with a protected lane, just a block above our street. We crossed the magnificent Passeig de Gracia, and took in the holiday lights they'd been hanging, already sparkling, twinkling, and stobing with iridescent and dramatic dichroic hues; we can't wait to return and seem them after dark!

My big take away from our first biking adventure? Biking parallel to the coast is a relaxing ride free of hills, perfect for wimps like us. The city streets are full of protected bike lanes, frequently with their own crosswalks and signals, but sometimes they jump from left, to center, to the right of the road, so we've gotta pay attention and learn how to read the symbols on the road. Barcelona clearly cares about its bike riders, but the route along the beach seems torn up, although I believe this is temporary and we'll have much better coastal rides in the future.  

I'm looking forward to riding a lot more, the city is very accommodating to bikes (and pedestrians), and it's a great way to explore our new city.

Our Ship's Come In! (where do we put it?)

We came home late one night and found this sign and tape in front of our apartment building: finally, a notice that said our moving truck would deliver our goods -- 12/11/2022 (November 12) between 08:30h and 14:00h. This was ten days hence, what the city requires, but fell on a Saturday which seemed suspicious but our moving company, Flippers.es, confirmed it. 

We had already taken apart one section of the sofa that came with the flat: it was too big to fit in the elevator, fortunately the remaining section came apart with simple bolts so we didn't have to hack at it like the previous piece. The living room looks quite large now, it should easily accommodate our furniture... right??

Just before 9am, the movers arrived. The contract was to "unpack, and put everything on any flat surface". We thought that meant they would put all the individual items on surfaces, but realized there was simply no way the contents of our 67 boxes would fit on the horizontal planes of the house. We neglected to get photos of the truck or guy(s) down below unloading and loading the elevator, but our guy unloading the elevator gave us boxes, unsealed them, and we frantically unwrapped and put individual items wherever we could find a space -- we were barely able to keep up.  The first item to arrive was my bicycle; the wheel would arrive a couple hours later. Then everything else started coming up quickly, in random order.

Stuff was strewn all around the flat, waiting for us to give them order. By 12:30, the final piece was brought in, the Brazilian sofa as one massive paper-wrapped item -- it barely fit in the elevator. For the first time since buying the apartment years ago, we finally had a comfortable place to sit and relax.

Sadly, two of the artworks suffered damage. This was especially disappointing because we'd paid to have custom wooden crates made for both. A large framed lithograph by Bruce Conner had cracked glass, which grew to span the entire frame in 24 hours, and risked cutting into the artwork.

The other piece I bought from artist Marcia Fry at Artomatic 2012. It's a rich assemblage of "found objects": the top spire was broken off, and the library of miniature Shakespeare books was tossed asunder. 

One of my VMPS speakers had an adjustment knob sheared off which prevents me from tuning the sound to match our new room, but this probably isn't that big of a deal. I had insurance on the shipment and have already filled in the claim forms, and am waiting to hear back. I hope they'll pay for a good framing shop to provide UV-blocking non-glare "museum glass", and I'll ask Marcia for her suggestions to fix "Saint Germain". 

We've gotta find room to hang all the art work, and only have one non-glass wall in the house. Most of it is black and white, or shades of gray, or very muted tones, and we've got one very large intensely blue and yellow canvas Bethe Bronson painted years ago. It'll be a bit cramped for my aesthetic but we'll make it work.  

We've moved from a 16x27 foot kitchen (with 106 drawer and door pulls) into a space that's quite small (by our standards), with cabinets that were designed for style rather than function: there are no drawers and very few shelves. To provide home for most of the stuff strewn over our table and cooktop, I started with the four wall cabinets.  These came with 2 shelves each, evenly spaced, which held very little and couldn't even accommodate some oversized wine glasses we have.  

We learned something from designing two kitchens that I never see mentioned about shelf spacing: to provide accessibility, put short things at the bottom, tall things at the top -- this seems counter-intuitive but we find you can grasp the bottoms of the tall things even if they're high up.  I made some estimates and figured we could add 7 shelves to the existing 7. We'd moved the existing dish drain board down directly over the hole in the cabinet bottom so we could drip dry delicate things that would be damaged by the dishwasher (my parents' wedding crystal with a silver rim would be eaten by detergent). We made another trip to FUSDEC with a drawing of what I needed: the cabinet widths were not uniform so I spec'd a couple of different widths; he told us they'd be ready "tomorrow morning". Seven shelves for under 7€ a piece, with laminate edge banding on the front -- a very fair price.

I spent the rest of the day determining heights based on contents, marking and drilling 5mm holes for mounting pegs. We picked up the shelves and 32 support pegs and got to work, iteratively adding a shelf, populating it with glassware, plates, etc, and repeating until we had accessible locations for everything.

We repeated this for the remaining 3 cabinets and now are able to hold our glassware, cocktail shaker, coffee pots, prep plates, platters, and my parents' wedding china (which we use daily). Everything's accessible except for rarely used items at the very top -- very acceptable.

 

Next up: we've gotta add drawers to the two door-front cabinets to hold flatware, knives, kitchen tools, utensils, spatulae, and all the other paraphernalia needed by us avid cooks.