Gracia

The quiet darkness was broken by the sound of pots and pans ringing from the balconies. I looked up confused, curious about the reason behind this cacophony of sound. Attiya, the person I crashed with the second half of my time in Barcelona, lived in Gracia.  Every night at 10pm the residents here use sonic resistance as a way of showing support for the referendum. The sound continued as we made our way to her apartment to drop off my luggage. The vibe of this neighborhood was much more residential then my friend who lived in the Gothic Quarter. The pace moved a lot slower, the streets narrower, the large placa's filled with life and familial energy.

Staying in Gracia with Attiya was like moving from Dupont in DC to a row house in Georgia Ave Petworth. Both are integral to the constitution of the city but one is the face tourists see while the other is a more private, more intimate, and importantly more local. I was standing in a bar on a Monday the musical nuances of a language I couldn't understand washed over me. There was a large half-empty jar of sangria on the counter but this is not the kind of establishment where wone drinks sangria. Instead, beer and vermouth pour from the hands of the bartenders as they greet the customers by name. 

The signs and sounds of discord mixed with a vibrant creativity as I explored the neighborhood in the daylight. I could understand the deep anger and dissatisfaction that Catalans feel as a DC resident who despite living in the government capital has no vote in either chamber of the United States legislative branch. The walls in Gracia were covered with graffiti that referenced artistic legends like Frida Khalo as well as new forms of art that I hadn't seen before. Specifically, I noticed an artist who reused old soda cans and painted them  to spell out various phrases that were then placed around the city

Gracia is such a young and vibrant neighborhood. It is even the site of Park Güell a huge park that was one of the major works by Gaudí. I tried to explore it but I got the light wrong so I guess I have to come back again! 

Subscribe below so you never miss an addition to the Archive!

Barcelona Cathedral

As a travel photographer, you are always chasing the sun. Often the limited amount of time you have to spend in a place mixed with your lack of knowledge of its physical layout makes it difficult to get the kind of photos you want. There are some maxims that produce good results like waiting for sunrise and sunset but often times building placement or surprise construction can foil the best-laid plans. For example, I arrived in Barcelona the week of a large electronic festival so as I made my way to the cathedral they were also setting up a large stage and partitions. On top of that, I had no idea that as the sun set it cast an ugly shadow on the Cathedral which obscured my ability to photograph the 250 gargoyles that guard the entrance. 

The Barcelona Cathedral's full name is the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia. Saint Eulalia was martyred at the age of 13 in 303 for refusing to announce her Christianity.  The church itself was built over a thousand years after her death. After completed it took another 450 years for the lateral towers that were in the original design to finally be built. I've always been fascinated with cathedrals and churches after reading Ken Follett's The Pillars of the Earth. So it was fascinating to go and visit a cathedral that was build before the Americas were ever colonized. 

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

The inside of the cathedral is deceptively large. When I first entered the sanctuary I was blown away by the vaulted ceilings. This living museum still holds mass and people were praying as I ambled through this hallowed ground. There was always something visually interesting everywhere whether it was the molding on the pillars or the many religious dioramas. Outside in the cloister, there are 13 geese which represent the 13 tortures that Saint Eulalia faced by the Romans. 

After exploring the ground floor I made my way to the roof which only costs me 3 euro's because I visited the cathedral during its free hours in the morning. A quick ride up the elevator and I was able to see the entire city from the rooftop. I got a close-up view of the lateral towers and was able to capture the picture above.

I'm happy that I came back to the cathedral twice because its beauty cannot be absorbed in one viewing. I need to go back with a friend so that I can have a proper photoshoot on the rooftop with the city of Barcelona as my backdrop.  Make sure you subscribe below so you never miss an addition to the Archive!

Barri Gòtic

The escalating tension between the Spanish and Catalan governments wasn't the only dark cloud dimming the bright sun of Barcelona. I had planned three weeks of travel that would start in Portugal and end in Spain. However, the universe had other ideas and I missed not only one but two flights in two days. The first was definitely my fault, I woke up in my bed just as my plane to Lisbon was taking off. My body had muffled the numerous alarms I had set. The second, however, was a sign that I was never meant to make it to Portugal in the first place. I arrived in the airport with plenty of time to spare only to be told once I got to the check-in counter that there was a problem with my ticket that couldn't be resolved before the gate closed. My body was shaking when I left the airport and made the hour and a half long journey back to my bed. 

So even though my first day in Barcelona was a success when I woke up the next I was still sad about all that I had missed. Moping wasn't going to solve my problem so I packed up my bags and spent the next two days navigating the Gothic Quarter's serpentine streets. I hadn't wandered down streets this maze-like since my time in Amsterdam. Tiny streets would split in two one of which would often end in a dead end. You would round a corner only to end up in a massive square filled with people drinking. But I had no qualms about getting lost because everything was so beautiful.  

Exploring the Gothic Quarter started the process of getting me out of my funk but after a couple hours, I was starving. There was only one thing I wanted and that was paella, but with so many options and limited data on my phone I had no clue what was the best option. I found a street with a paella spot on every corner and choose the place with the best lunch deal. I got a series of small tapas and a medium size dish of paella. The rice was so succulent with just the right amount of crunch on the bottom. The seafood was a delight and I ate the whole thing faster than the time it took to make it. 

I rolled myself out of the restaurant and as the itis began to take over I knew nap time was imminentt. Before I could curl up in bed I stumbled upon an LGBT bookstore tucked away on a small street. Inside I found some local gay photography zines and added them to my personal archive. 

The Gothic Quarter is such a vibrant heart of the city of Barcelona. I can't wait to go back and see everything that I missed and have a cute photoshoot in the medieval cobblestoned streets. 

Make sure you subscribe below so you never miss an addition to the Archive!

Arrival in Barcelona

In the early morning of September 20th my plane landed in Barcelona. Warm air greeted me as I exited the airport and looked for the bus that would take me deep into the city. I arrived at the stop just before it left- the last bus until morning. My ride was free because the driver could not change the crisp 50 euro notes from the atm. The city was dark, shops were closed, people were still asleep in their beds. I don't think anyone was aware of the drama they would awake to.  

The sun streamed through the window of Johnny's apartment I walked into the kitchen and he asked me if I had heard what happened? Sometime in-between going to sleep and waking up the Spanish Government raided and arrested 14 Catalonian government officials in response to the upcoming referendum for independence. He showed me the television and had it not been for everything being spoken in Spanish you could have mistook the scene for America. Anger, the look of shock and betrayal of residents by their government. I asked why the Spanish people were upset and Johnny was quick to correct me, now more then ever the Catalonians didn't want to be called Spanish. I was ignorant of all international politics except for Brexit. I had no idea about the deep rift between Catalonians and the rest of Spain.

I had two choices. Johnny asked me if I wanted to go with him and his sisters to the protests. Or I could go and explore the city on my own. I choose the latter. Part of my travels was a purposeful break from the intense focus on American politics generally but American racial politics specifically. Even though you every country, every city, every government has their own issues. So I made my way to La Rambla the famous outdoor pedestrian mall, where a terrorist attack had killed 15 people and injured 100 more in August of 2017. The stalls lining the street were full of tourist the area seemingly bounced back refusing to balk in the face of terror. Restaurants lined the street with artisans making a buck, or in this case euro, like Galileo above. I'm used to seeing street buskers dressed up to attract potential clients but I have to say the outfits I saw while walking down this street were some of the most detailed I had seen. 

After I left La Rambla I found a side street that Johnny had recommended for some food. I sunk my teeth into patatas bravas, my favorite Spanish tapas, and some fried chicken. I was drinking my beer and dipping the chicken in a delicious turmeric garlic aioli when I heard something that sounded so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. I looked up and saw a group of 3 men playing the accordion. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what song it was until it got to the chorus. The haunting of Despacito had started and would continue for the rest of my travels in 2017. 

Despite being in Barcelona for less than 24 hours I was falling in love with the city. The architecture pictured above was a big draw. While I was living for the nightlife scene in London and the social energy- I wasn't digging the city's aesthetic qualities. I didn't have that issue in Barcelona. When you wander down the large boulevards there's just so much detail to notice. Most of the beauty can be contributed to the work and legacy of Antoni Gaudí who has left his mark on the city with buildings like Casa Batlló pictured 2nd. I was continually blown away by the beauty of the city, every corner there was something new to discover and eat.

A Lichtenstein ,my favorite pop artist, sculpture created for the 1992 Barcelona Summer Olympics called "El Cap de Barcelona"

As afternoon turned to evening I decided that my photographic exploration would have to be continued the next day. I made my way back to the Raval neighborhood and had a drink at an outdoor beer garden watching as young catalans skated and played soccer in the dwindling light. 

Make sure you subscribe below and never miss an addition to the Archive!