The Arts. . . both gift and a call to service

What's not to love about the cello? A "voice" to die for. Sexy design. Polished finish that brings each wooden fiber to brilliant life. 

This instrument first thrust itself upon my consciousness in the PBS documentary, "Joan Baez: How Sweet the Sound," that chronicles Baez's life. The segment that stood out for me was her 1993 visit to the destroyed and terrorized city of Sarajevo, Bosnia. She described her heart-rending encounter with Sarajevo Opera cellist Vedran Smajlovic. 

"Unable to stop the madness that had ripped apart the former Yugoslavia, Smajlovic honored the memory of his friends and defied their killers by doing the only thing he was good at. Placing his chair in the middle of the street, he took out cello and bow—musician and instrument melding into a single defiant force. Eyes closed to the surrounding destruction, he rendered the mournful Adagio in G minor by Tomaso Giovanni Albinoni." 

 

Be it a musician, actor, painter, or writer, anyone else endowed with creative gifts, Smajlovic's offering to his fellow Sarajevans represents an artist's supreme achievement: to become one with the work and with the audience. I imagine him getting up every morning, donning his tuxedo, as if he were going to play with his disbanded orchestra, and carrying chair and cello out onto the dangerous street to play Albinoni's soulful Adagio in G minor. 

I imagine Michelangelo on the scaffolds of the Sistine Chapel, Antoni Gaudi living the last years of his life in the dusty construction site of Barcelona's (still-unfinished) Sagrada Familia Basilica.

I think of Victor Hugo in 1861-1862, melding himself with his idealized man, Jean Valjean.

The great gift of artists is that they do not hoard their transcendent experience, but allow us differently skilled humans an opportunity to transport ourselves in spirit to a higher realm of contemplative unity, be it ever so brief. Wise beyond human comprehension are those artists who are fully conscious of their lofty and sacred calling, to inspire our world and make the world a better place for everyone.

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I invite you to read my book, The Soul of Art, available at all online booksellers in both paperback and ebook formats.

My Art and Soul retreats/workshops explore the sacred source of artistic gifts and the mission of those so blessed to share the fruit of their talents with others for the betterment of our Sarajevo-like world.

Next retreat/workshop:

Saturday, June 24, 2017
9:30 a.m.-4 p.m.
San Damiano Retreat House
Danville, California
Cost: $55

For information about this event or to book future events, contact alfredjgarrotto@gmail.com

(c) 2017 by Alfred J. Garrotto
All rights reserved

Sagrada Familia Revisited

The tomb of architect
Antoni Gaudi (1852-1926)

My first drive-by visit to Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, Spain, was in may 1964. At the time, what is now an amazing basilica fully open to the public was a shell, an abandoned project of visionary architect Antoni Gaudi.

In 2008, my wife Esther and I toured the inside of the emerging sanctuary wearing hard hats and skirting the inner walls. We marveled at the potential magnificence and awaited the day when Gaudi's vision would become a worshiping space reality.

On June 24 of this year, we arrived once more in Barcelona and checked into the Hotel Sagrada Familia. We had two days to spend in one of our favorite cities. My bucket list of things to do in my life included attending Mass in the crypt beneath the basilica's main sanctuary and to finally visit the completed interior. 

Our hotel gave us a 10:30 a.m. Mass time that Friday. Next, I went to tiqets.com.sp to order tour tickets for later that day and received confirmation that we were good for the 2:45 p.m. tour. At the crypt, we discovered that the hotel's Mass time list was outdated. We accepted that outcome. Just a mistake. There would be another opportunity at 9 a.m. Saturday. Our cruise ship wouldn't sail until 4 p.m. that day.

Altar/sanctuary of the crypt
beneath the main basilica.

Getting set for our afternoon tour proved to be a greater challenge. I was unable to print the tickets at the hotel. Frantic, we moved to Plan B. On my phone we had visual proof of booking and paying for  tour. We went to the gate and showed the proof on our phone. The tour managers refused to accept that evidence. They insisted on having paper tickets. The time of our tour came . . . and passed with us still standing outside on the sidewalk. Neither "must do" items had disappeared from my bucket list.

Feeling as bummed out as we've ever been, we dragged ourselves back to Sagrada Familia the next morning. It was a glorious Saturday, but we hardly noticed. Before going to Mass, we inquired about a tour for that day. Sadly, the next tour opening would have made it too late for us to catch our ship.

Then, the miracle. I call it that; others can call it whatever they want.

An elderly priest celebrated the Mass that morning for a small congregation. Near the end of the service, I heard a voice saying, "Go talk to him after Mass." Normally, I would be too shy (ashamed) to beg for a personal favor. Immediately after Mass, I told the unsuspecting Esther, "Wait for me here," and followed the priest into the sacristy (vesting room). I took out a business card that identified me as a lay minister at a Catholic parish. After introducing myself, I told him our sad story of the day before. Without missing a beat, this kindly priest smiled and said, "Come with me."

I waved to Esther, who ran to meet me in the sacristy. We followed our new best friend--who turned out to be the pastor of the basilica--outside and down the block to the ornate Nativity entrance. Along the way, we passed the very same gatekeepers who had told us there was nothing they could do to get us inside. One after the other, they greeted the priest with a "buenos días" as they opened the gates.

The altar area is surrounded 
by a forest of trees (columns)
that rise from floor to ceiling. 

Inside, the magnificent interior warmed us with its welcome. We spoke with the priest for a minute. He shook our hands and disappeared (as Jesus did after walking with the disciples on the road to Emmaus, as found in Luke 24:13-32).

Yes, both bucket list items were checked off that morning. I'll leave it to you to decide the moral to this story.


[My original Sagrada Familia post has been the most visited/read on this entire blog. Find it at the top left of this blog's home page or at  http://wisdomoflesmiserables.blogspot.com/2010/11/sagrada-familia-favorite-church-comes.html ]

[There's also a great documentary film on Netflix about the artists and builders who are at work today to bring this immense and sacred project to fulfillment.   For a look at my post about this documentary, go to  http://wisdomoflesmiserables.blogspot.com/2015/10/sagrada-documentary-film.html ]

(c) 2016 by Alfred J. Garrotto

  

"Sagrada"--A Documentary Film

Of all the posts on this blog site, the one that has garnered far and away the most views is my Nov. 13, 2010 reflection, “Sagrada Familia: Favorite Church Comes Alive” (http://wisdomoflesmiserables.blogspot.com/2010/11/sagrada-familia-favorite-church-comes.html). People from every part of the globe have entered the halls of this site to share their interest and devotion to this basilica-in-progress. Since my second visit to Barcelona and this amazing work of faith and perseverance in 2009, the main body of the church has been completed. On July 11, 2010, Pope Benedict XI traveled to the site for its opening Mass and dedication (www.youtube.com/watch?v=dXl2KYSWHb4).

"Sagrada Familia: Favorite Church Comes Alive"

Image by Wolfgang Staudt via Flickr

Here's what some pretty famous and knowledgeable people have said about my favorite church in the whole wide world, the newly consecrated but not yet completed Basilica of La Sagrada Familia (the Holy Family) in Barcelona, Spain . . . .

George Orwell: one of the most hideous buildings in the world. 

Salvador Dali:"superbly creative bad taste."

Disclaimer: I haven't seen every church in the whole wide world, so let's say, my favorite among those I have visited. I also exclude my own parish church which has been and remains a beloved home to all my family.

I first visited the construction site in May of 1964. By then work had been in progress for 88 years. All I saw at that time was the massive shell of what had been the dream and passion of one man, Catalonian architect Antoni Gaudi i Cornet (1852-1926). The young architect (31) received the commission to build this church in 1883, after his predecessor resigned only one year into the project. Gaudí's concept wedded the human and divine. He labored at the task until his untimely death in 1926. The circumstances of his death make a great story in themselves. He was run over by a tram on a Sunday morning while walking home from Mass. For some time, he lay in a coma without anyone knowing  who he was. His remains are buried in the church's crypt.


From the beginning, Sagrada Familia was declared an "expiatory church." I had never heard the term until this week. It means that construction was entirely dependent on private donations and proceeded only when and as long as  money was on hand (no wonder it's taken so long). Gaudí was known to go out on the street and beg for money during his lunch breaks (siestas).


I visited Sagrada Familia again on July 18, 2008. This time I was able to study the magnificent front and rear facades of the church and tour the construction site's interior perimeter. "Thrilled" is too tame a word to describe my feelings. At a time when Americans and Europeans--even believers among us--are reluctant to call any space "sacred," that is exactly what Gaudí envisioned. The nearly finished building fits that definition for me and for most of the millions who flock to Barcelona each year to experience in actuality what the great architect only envisioned.

On November 7, 2010, Pope Benedict XI consecrated the church in the presence of 6,500 people inside the structure and many thousands of Barcelonans and pilgrims who jammed to streets around the exterior of the complex. In his homily Benedict described Gaudí's vision for the church that will be completed in 2026 (the centennial of Gaudí's death. 

"[He] accomplished one of the most important tasks of our times: overcoming the division between human consciousness and Christian consciousness, between living in this temporal world and being open to eternal life, between the beauty of things and God as beauty. Antoni Gaudí did this not with words but with stones, lines, planes, and points. Indeed, beauty is one of mankind’s greatest needs; it is the root from which the branches of our peace and the fruits of our hope come forth." 

For the best views of the magnificent interior, I recommend the full 3-hour video of the consecration ceremony. Even if you don't watch the whole ceremony and Mass (who would besides this old blogger?), you can skip ahead to watch some of the finest and most breathtaking television camera work I've ever seen.


Below are some of my own 2008 photos of not-yet-opened interior and the two (of the eventual three) completed facades: The Birth of Christ and The Passion of Christ.

Above: Main Entrance Facade--The Passion of Christ

Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

 Nave ceiling: Trees reaching to the stars 

Even today, only some of the the
stained glass windows are in place.

The Nativity (Birth of Christ) Facade

Shepherds Worship the Christ Child

In a future post, I will share more about Antoni Gaudi's life and work.

Images (c) 2008 Aflred J. Garrotto

See also October 1, 2015 Sagrada Familia documentary post.

Related articles

• Pope dedicates Barcelona's iconic Sagrada Familia (cnn.com)

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Alfred J. Garrotto is the author of the suspense novel,

The Saint of Florenville: A Love Story.