Bilbao!

3 Dec 2011

After a long night on the bus, I arrived in Bilbao AN HOUR earlier than expected—which would have been nice under normal circumstances. However, it was still dark, and I wasn’t looking forward to navigating the city in the dark. But, at least it wasn’t raining. J

Since it was still dark, I took the metro to my hostel. However, anyone who knows me well knows that I have a terrible sense of direction. Even though, I had drawn myself a map and had looked at the metro map of the area, I still started walking in the wrong direction and got a little bit lost.

Thankfully, I found a nice old man who sort of helped give me directions to the right street. It turned out I was mostly walking in the right direction! I just hadn’t walked far enough.

My hostel was a little quirky with some neat graffiti on the outside. I hung out inside for a while to warm up and wait for the sun to rise.

My first stop for the day was the Guggenheim Museum. However, on my way to the museum, I decided to take a detour through a neat park called the Doña Casilda Iturrizar. The park had your typical fountains, trees, flowers, and statues. But my favorite part was the duck pond with all the little ducks sleeping.

Ducks!

I continued my walk to the Guggenheim, and I was struck by all the contrasts in Bilbao. It’s a really old city… in one of the few regions untouched by Arabic conquest (because it’s so isolated in the north). Yet, you see all of the old mixed in with the new and modern. I really like that. It’s what gives Bilbao character. Oomph.

I’m not overly fond of modern architecture—even though I really did like Chicago. Modern architecture just seems so cold and emotionless.

The Guggenheim—like the rest of the city—is also full of contradictions. When I arrived at the Guggenheim, I had to stifle laughter. In front of the museum is a grass/flower sculpture of a dog. This type of sculpture seems out of place next to the Guggenheim’s supremely modern architecture.

I’ve mentioned that I’m not really a fan of modern art. Part of this stems from the fact that I’ve studied a lot more historical art and that context helps me to understand—and enjoy—the paintings more.

So I wasn’t very sure if I’d really enjoy the Guggenheim as much as other museums I’ve been to—like the Prado in Madrid.

I’ll be completely honest. There was a lot in the museum that I didn’t like because I don’t care for abstract art. It’s hard for me to see an entirely black canvas as art. I get the idea behind abstract art—the artist is trying to break down the idea of what is art and redefine it. The artist is seeking to find the essence of an object. I just don’t find it particularly moving.

However, within the Guggenheim, I did find works of art that made it well worth the trip. One in particular—The Matter of Time by RichardSerra—was pretty spectacular. This work takes up an entire gallery. It included 6 or 7 giant structures made out of steel—exposed to oxygen to give it a rusted color. All of the structures form curves and ellipses. Not a single surface formed a 90 degree angle with the floor.

Since the sculpture was meant to be experienced by walking through it, the effect of the slanted walls was potent. There were times when the passage was very narrow, and I felt a little bit of panic and began to walk faster. At other times, the passage was broad and I slowed my pace to take it all in. The center was a space of serenity because I was enveloped by the walls and there wasn’t any noise. It was a place of stillness and contemplation.

The most interesting of the sculptures was the last—which was enough to give anyone a panic attack. The sculpture was made of two slanted ellipses. As I walked through it, I would get to the point of the ellipse and have to turn. The passage would continue and seemed to never end. At the beginning, it was really narrow—eventually broadening.

The sculpture was amazing because you couldn’t just passively look at it (though some people did). As I walked through it, my body responded to the changes in space.

After the Guggenheim, I wandered in the direction of the Casco Viejo—the oldest part of the city. Along the way, I saw the famous Zubizuri Bridge, the Plaza de Moyua, and the Plaza Circular.

Once in the Casco Viejo, I promptly got lost—which is just as well. I never would have found the museum I was looking for without having stumbled upon it.

Before I left for Bilbao, I did my research and learned that there was a Basque culture museum. When I went to Galicia two years ago, one of the coolest museums I visited was the Galician culture museum. It had exhibits that showed what daily life for Galicians had traditionally been like—showing what their houses looked like, what they wore, and traditional jobs. When I saw that there was a similar museum about Basque culture, I knew that I had to go. However, when I arrived in Bilbao and go my map, the museum wasn’t on it. I flipped through another tourist guide and find the address—Plaza de Unamuno. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the plaza on the map. As I discovered later, it’s just really small, and after a lot of bumbling around, I found it on my own near the archeology museum.

The museum was as I expected it to be. On the top floor, there were examples of Basque pottery and ceramics. The second floor focused on the three main industries in Basque Country—fishing, raising animals, textiles. The first floor contained special exhibits--one with paintings by Ignacio Ipiña and another with Basque artifacts.

However, what made my visit special was a conversation with a man who works for the museum. He feels very passionately about the museum and wanted to share that knowledge with me.

Apparently, two of the paintings in the Basque artifacts exhibit were on loan from a Spanish millionaire. The first painting had an interesting commentary on the situation of the rich and the poor. You can see two men handling money that they got in the form of taxes on artisans and other shop-owners. Oddly-enough, as the man at the museum pointed out, one of the men has a woman's pin in his hat.

In the other painting, there are four court jesters playing some sort of traditional game. Their expressions are amazingly natural and their body language very life-like.

These paintings are privately owned and this is the first time that they have been publicly displayed. The museum man said that it was a shame that they couldn't stay in the museum longer for more people to have the opportunity to appreciate them.

Next, the museum man showed me the Ignacio Ipiña exhibit. Part of what made this exhibit interesting was the fact that it contained paintings that were of the Casco Viejo. In fact, a couple of the paintings featured the stairs outside of the museum. You can check out some of the paintings at this website under la gallería.

One of the most famous of Ipiña's paintings was prominently featured. It has a political figure getting into a car. He´s surrounded by military figures and civilians. The power in this painting lies in how he painted the figures. The politician is very clear with distinct features. The military people are a little less defined but still have clear faces. However, the civilians surrounding the politician and the military men have few defined features. Their faces are in the shadows. What you can see is their hands raised in a heil gesture. The way in which the figures were painted as well as the use of lighting create a powerful image of the blind allegiance of the masses.