The cathedral has lots of trencadis (broken tile) elements throughout the structure, mostly external now. Spires with piles of trencadis-covered fruits, huge textual elements, and mosaic rays of light became even more fascinating when trying to see the techniques used to make an "S," for example, or how they used color to create the appearance of "shine." It makes me even more excited to get home and try out some of the techniques.
It remains an amazing experience to be inside a structure of this magnitude while it is being built, or rather "formed," around you. Because there are so many curves, obtuse and acute angles, and non-standard elements, it seems the workers have to move slowly, keeping close tabs on each element, ensuring the puzzle pieces are catalogued, organized, and retrievable. I watched two metal workers on the new roof drawing and measuring angles for twisted and convex structural elements, and the enormity of their task made my head hurt. In comparison, the broken tile mosaics are a snap. We'll see if I still think that when I'm working on my own little pieces.
While the cathedral is indeed an impressive display of ingenuity, art, and construction talent, it became very clear to me while looking up at the ceiling with approximates of sun rays amidst a colonnade designed to mimic towering ancient forests that his supposed love of and emulation of nature in his work is in fact counter to nature. For all Gaudi's professed admiration of the natural world, the piles of lumber, the millions of tons of cement, the enormous amounts of stone and marble, all have severe negative consequences for his object of inspiration. Nature can't be captured by man without desecrating nature itself. Give me real ancient forests with real sunlight streaming through the real canopy for my inspiration any day.
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