What is it about walking on stone-paved streets that makes history come alive for me? It probably has a lot to do with living in a concrete city of a very young nation where a mid-century house (as in 1950s) feels ancient. And any structure constructed in the 1800s is practically pre-historic!
Here, in the middle of a city born some 1,500 years before Los Angeles, it is more rare to find new construction, but it does exist. High along what seems to be built on medieval ruins is an infinity escalator…
that takes me up to a site that looks like it might become a shopping mall or multi-level parking structure. But when I reach the very top, it’s just a big open square:
I really can’t figure it out and my fear of heights is keeping me from looking down too closely. I’m much better at navigating the lower, albeit steep, roads below even if it means sometimes having to press myself against a wall so that a car can pass through the narrow streets without crunching my toes:
After dodging a few cars in Toledo, I learn to maneuver these tiny paths by ducking into doors when I hear an engine closing in on me:
Now about the new constructions, they are there if you look hard enough. This is one of my favorites:
So I’ve been showing you Toledo in the last few blog entries, but you should know that I get to spend only one day there. I’ve booked the 7.30pm train back to Madrid, and just before sunset I manage one last stop that turns out to be a great way to see Toledo’s light shift from day to dusk.
The Museo de Santa Cruz, just near the Zocodover Square where I began my tour of Toledo with you, is a city museum full of artifacts, industrial art (textiles, metalwork, etc.), and archeological remains that trace the city’s Roman, Mudejar, Visigothic, and Moorish roots. It was constructed in the 16th century after the Spanish Renaissance style and served as a hospice. The Plateresque doors and exterior are quite spectacular on their own,
but it is the large, open courtyard, flanked by ornate stairs leading to three floors of exhibit rooms, that makes me gasp when I step inside. These are photos I shoot in rapid succession, in what little natural light I have left, as I rush from floor to floor (I have only 20 minutes here before closing time):
Statues and sarcophagi lids exhumed from centuries ago are on open display in the courtyard:
El Greco’s The Assumption of the Virgin, believed to be his last work, is also found here. I wish I had more time. I vow to come back here again, maybe one weekend when the weather is warmer.
All the way back to Madrid I am antsy. It will be 8pm when I get there, and I’ll only have 1 hour left to get to the Reina Sofia Museum before they close at 9pm. Luckily the Atocha train station is just minutes from there on foot, and I actually have 40 minutes left to dash around the museum. I don’t even have time to take off my hat and scarf after I clear security, but there, finally, finally, in front of me, in all its stupendous glory, is Picasso’s Guernica. Gulp.This art history student wants to cry. I know, you can’t take me anywhere.
Pablo Picasso was commissioned by the Spanish government to paint this gigantic mural to commemorate the bombing of Guernica during the Spanish Civil War. The mural was displayed at the World’s Fair in Paris in 1937. The colors of the painting are somber, in black, blue, and white. It would take hours to study the painting and debate all the anti-war messages Picasso left here. All I know is that the longer I look, the more pain seems to ooze out of the canvas amidst all the chaos of civilian suffering. War isn’t at all romanticized here, but I do find heroism and strength in its agony. Perhaps Picasso was a cranky old man by the time he worked on this mural, but what’s immediately clear here is the distress felt by all Spaniards at this time, regardless of where they lived (Picasso had moved to Paris some 30 years before). It is an incredibly moving painting. And even if you hate Picasso’s art, I would submit that you can’t walk away from this mural without it lingering on your mind for a long while after.
So there you have it, in under 12 hours I started my day with El Greco’s The Burial of the Count of Orgaz and ended it with Picasso’s Guernica. It’s like being in a fantastic art sandwich. As I leave the museum, I tell myself it would be hard to beat this day for me. I almost tear up again, so happy to be in my own shoes, and there hasn’t even been any sighting of Chanel anything anywhere today!
But the day is not quite over till some kind of food happens. Now I don’t know if I can believe the hype, but I’m supposedly having the best calamari bocadillo in all of Madrid at this joint:
It has an entrance door at both ends of the restaurant to catch customers on two busy streets–a clever strategy–and judging from the continuously swinging doors, I’m not the only tourist who’s fallen for the hype. I actually manage to finish my giant sandwich, and now I’m so full I think I will cry.
See you back here tomorrow on our last day in Spain.
Tags: calamari bocadillo, Chanel, El Greco, Museo de Santa Cruz, Spain, The Assumption of the Virgin, Toledo
In a TV interview after the LA riots in May 1992, Rodney King wailed to the public, “Can we all get along?” I am reminded of this almost 18 years later while inside a museum auditorium in Spain, watching a documentary about the history of Toledo. It recounts how Toledo rose to prominence in the midst of a blossoming convenvicia between the Muslims, Christians and Jews while under the rule of the Caliphate of Córdoba. But that’s not to say this co-existence didn’t falter often. Since the days of the Bronze Age, Toledo’s political climate had been no more immune to the power struggles over its control than any other rich piece of real estate. Centuries of wars later, Toledo is lucky to have preserved its multi-cultural, -architectural, and -philosophical legacy. Today it is facing a struggle of another kind (economic) and its immunity is no stronger now, but if I were a betting person, I’d say Toledo will find its golden age once more. A place this special must survive.
But enough yapping from me; let me just show you what a city looks like when three very different religions can come together and share their very best with each other. It’s a win-win-win situation all around…
In short, no matter what ideology is behind this door,
this door,
or this one,
it’s only the human experience once I enter that should matter…
Magic happens when we all get along.
What do you say–may I try your patience for just one more entry about Toledo tomorrow? I promise you the pictures will be worth it.
Tags: Caliphate of Cordoba, convenvicia, Rodney King, Spain, Toledo
One of the best vantage points in Toledo is from the Victorio Macho Museum, previously the home and studio of a Spanish sculptor. From his courtyard patio you have unobstructed views of the hills and water
as well as access to his prolific art collection:
Art can be found everywhere in this town, but it shouldn’t just be for the eyes. Toledo is also known for marzipan, a confection of ground almonds, egg whites, and sugar that’s molded into all kinds of shapes. It can be decadently sweet and rich, so I like to savor a bit at a time over a strong tea or coffee:
Speaking of art for the mouth, I have to say I am quite impressed by the abundance of gastronomical restaurants in such a small town (I walk by at least two 4-star Michelin restaurants after lunch). Quality is obviously a high priority in kitchens of all price points here. Case in point is where I have lunch–Alfileritos 24–a modern looking restaurant on an unassuming, ancient street…
just around the corner from a highly recommended place that seems to be crowded with visitors:
I opt to not follow the stream of tourists and am rewarded for my decision because once seated at my cozy table, I am treated like a princess by the staff (can I please also comment how quickly food is served everywhere around Spain!) and the food couldn’t be more delicious from start to finish:
BTW, how about a fashion interruption right here. It’s really hard to feature what I’ve been wearing on my trip because I’m bundled up like a Michelin man in my coat, so it’s only when I’m eating that I can get a shot of the outfit du jour. In this case it’s the navy and grey Chanel 08A turtleneck…
worn with a JCrew winter 2009 cardigan that luckily matches exactly in color scheme–I had it on when I was on the train, before the wine arrived and warmed me up–
But back to the food! My dessert choices are cakes and tarts of the day, but I’ve been seeing this everywhere all around Spain so I order the tortitas con nata y chocolate liquido. Looks like American pancakes, but not quite the same…
So marzipan and dining are the third reason why you should visit Toledo. Tomorrow I’ll conclude my Toledo visit with reason number 4. I’ll sign off now with a few more pics:
Tags: Alfileritos 24, Chanel, JCrew, Michelin, Toledo, tortitas con nata, Victorio Macho Museum
Today it’s all about El Greco, or Doménikos Theotokópoulos (Δομήνικος Θεοτοκόπουλος), the famous artist born in Crete of Greek origin who is most well known for dramatic portraits with haunting, gaunt faces. He moved to Toledo at the age of 36 and worked there till his death in 1614 at the age of 73. He was a painter, architect, and sculptor. A true Renaissance triple threat.
Near here,
is his house that also serves as a museum. Unfortunately it’s shuttered for restoration when I get there:
So I make my way to the Church of San Tomé, El Greco’s parish church,
where one of his most celebrated paintings, The Burial of the Count of Orgaz, hangs on its humble wall. This is long considered a Spanish masterpiece for its unusual composition, filled by a literal and philosophical divide between heaven and earth. The faces in this painting are so solemn yet expressive. If you observe well the locals walking around Toledo today, you can still see the same characteristics that El Greco captured perfectly in oil on canvas back in 1586.
Since we’re in a church and all, I have to make a confession here. I know you really shouldn’t take pictures when it says no photography allowed, but I have adored El Greco for a very long time and I HAD to sneak one when the guard sneezed and blew his nose. Suffice it to say I didn’t get a great shot:
But you can tell how big the painting is. There are better pictures and more information on this work here .
Most people pay to view just the painting and then move on to the next stop. But do go around the side and visit the small church. If anything, it is nice to sit there for a few minutes and imagine where El Greco might have meditated in any of these pews and drew inspiration:
Anyway, while the restoration is underway at the El Greco Museum, all of his paintings can be viewed together at the Real Fundación de Toledo, which shares space at the nearby Victorio Macho Museum. But what rotten luck–when I get there, the curator tells me that the paintings are on loan for an exhibit in Mexico City. This is when a teleporter would come in handy!
What do you say tomorrow I take you to lunch then we’ll talk about the other two reasons I came to Toledo.
Tags: Church of San Tomé, Doménikos Theotokópoulos, El Greco, Real Fundación de Toledo, Spain, The Burial of the Count of Orgaz, Toledo, Victorio Macho Museum
I’d mentioned yesterday my 4 reasons for visiting Toledo, and in the picture above, behind me is a statue of the man responsible for one of them.
Cervantes fans know that there is a Route of DQ (no, not Dairy Queen but Don Quixote) cutting through Toledo that marks the various points mentioned in the book:
I don’t have enough time here to follow the path, but I can’t wait to go back and re-read the book with the images of Toledo still fresh in my mind. The spirit of our beloved hero DQ is captured throughout the city:
But I’m actually looking for the Cathedral of Toledo (Catedral Primada Santa María de Toledo)…
because across from it is the Ayuntamiento, or town hall,
where I can get a city map from its tourist office (an ice skating rink has been set up here for the past holiday season). But before all of this can happen, let’s go grab some breakfast at a bar:
I pass on the churro and opt for a Spanish croissant (it’s not flaky like its French counterpart and feels much heavier) but I have the yummy zumo again:
Most of the streets here are tiny, and they curve around and around so that it feels like you are walking in a circle when you are not.
It’s not a big place so you really shouldn’t get lost, especially if you mark your bearings by the huge gothic cathedral:
This Catholic church broke ground in 1226 and, like many great cathedrals in Europe, saw continuous construction over centuries. It is well worth a visit, regardless of your faith, because no amount of photography (which isn’t allowed inside anyway) can capture the enormity of the work that went into building this place. The Toledo Cathedral is the second largest church in Spain but it is revered as the most important because Toledo has historically been the center of Spain’s catholic faith.
Tomorrow I’ll try to cover the other 3 reasons for loving Toledo.
Tags: Ayuntamiento, Catedral Primada Santa María de Toledo, Cathedral of Toledo, Cervantes, Don Quixote, Toledo
