Giant pink sheep in the Puerta de Alcalá

I think the only thing the Puerta de Alcalá is missing is a giant pink sheep. Here's why.

Around November 20th every year, shepherds bring their flocks of sheep directly through the center of Madrid, in between these two stone markers (mojones) on the eastern side of Plaza Alcalá. This is supposed to be quite a scene, and it's a tradition that dates back to 1273 during the time of King Alfonso X. Livestock owners founded an organization that was empowered with keeping open livestock paths throughout the country, enabling the sheep to move between the northern and southern provinces and avoid the cold weather.

The pathway marked at Puerta de Alcalá is one of the last of nine remaining in Spain. If you go to look for the mojones, they are really easy to miss. One is to the left of the entrance to Retiro Park, and the other is on the northeast corner of the Plaza de la Independencia.

All of the livestock paths were of varying width, but the widest at 75.23 meters are knows as cañadas reales (royal livestock passageways). The width between the two markers is ceremoniously measured by the shepherds each time they bring their flock into the city, reasserting their rights and confirming the path established 800 years ago.

So back to my giant pink sheep idea. We all need something that disconnects us from our everyday lives sometimes, and encourages us to see our surroundings in a new way. Madrid, as viewed through the arches of the puerta de Alcalá, soaring up the Gran Via, has an entirely different cadence with a giant pink sheep in the foreground. It allows city dwellers to break from reality and enter a bright, colorful fantasy city.

The installation creates its own narrative while at the same time uncovering an existing, forgotten one. Like the artworks I've posted on this blog, this intervention uses an existing viewpoint, and offers a way to experience the landscape with a point of comparison. The visual comparison is any aspect of the form: color, material, shape, angle, scale, etc. The possible material I could use reminds me of my beloved Breyer horses that I used to play with incessantly as a kid - impossibly smooth plastic.

The giant pink sheep would coincide with the actual running of the sheep in November and there would be at least one where the flock enters Madrid (above), and possibly others at different points along the trail.

Ornate street signs that I have to finally post about

I've been secretly wanting to post about the street signs in Madrid ever since I moved here. Each street in Madrid has a sign intricately painted on nine white tiles that commemorates its history, and some of the illustrations have dark stories to tell.

This one tells the story of a miracle, and you can read it here on my Cowbird page, or just keep reading.

Legend has it that a wealthy priest once lived on this street, whose possessions were coveted by his Portuguese servant. One night the servant killed the priest, cut off his head, and ran off to Lisbon with all of the gold and valuables in the house.

When the priest's body was discovered it became the talk of Madrid, but since the servant had escaped, after some time the crime was mostly forgotten.

Some years later however, the servant returned to Madrid, now dressed in the guise of a prosperous gentleman. He was walking through the Rastro one morning (the city's largest market and slaughterhouse), not far from where the crime had been committed, and decided to buy a calf's head for his dinner (a common dish in Spanish villages at this time). After buying the calf's head, he placed it under his cape and began to walk home.

A nearby watchman noticed blood dripping from under the servant's cape, and stopped him to demand to know what it was. "It is the calf's head I just bought at the market", he told him. But the watchman was still suspicious and he asked to see it.

When the servant opened his cape, to both of their astonishment and horror, it was the head of the priest that he had murdered. The watchman immediately arrested him and brought him to jail. In the trial that followed, the former servant was found guilty and sentenced to be hanged in Plaza Mayor.

Once the execution had been carried out, the priest's head turned back into that of a calf.

This means "fist in the face street", and it's not because of a street fight long ago. Puñonrostro is actually someone's last name.

Sword Street, because there was a fencing school on this street and the owner always left a sword hanging in front of his house to advertise.

Calle de Jesus

I love this one.

This is the only pictogram street sign I've found so far!

And lastly, our street! Calle del Amor de Dios. Looks like we've got double protection - from the gods and the surveillance cameras.

Unusual architecture, a ghost story, and an assassination

I'm working on a signage project in Madrid, in the very historical neighborhood of Chueca and to get to the building sometimes I take the metro to Tribunal and walk over to Hortaleza. I was walking there one day and looked up at this super narrow building and thought, no, could it be? Then I looked closer and zoomed in with the camera and saw giant lizards holding up the cornices of the building. This is the lizard house. (Mejía Lequerica, 1)

It's a rare example in Madrid of the Vienna Secession architecture movement, with simple geometry and symmetric decorative elements, and the building is eleven times longer than it is wide. From either San Mateo or Hortaleza you can see that it's only five meters wide. Designed by Benito González to hold rented apartments, there are only two on each floor, so every room in each has lots of windows and light.

Not too far away is the wedding cake building.

There are not many buildings of this kind of Gaudi-esque opulence in Madrid (or any really). It houses the Sociedad General de Autores y Editores and sadly it's not open to the public but I would LOVE to get a peek inside. (Calle de Fernando VI, 4)

Closer to the Gran Via on this side of town, you'll pass an old mansion with freestanding columns in front of it. Raise your eyes a little higher and you'll see that on top of the 16th Century structure are seven cylindrical chimneys. It's known locally as La Casa de las Siete Chimeneas and is now the offices of the Culture Ministry. (Calle de las Infantas 31 - beside Plaza del Rey) There's a persistent ghost story that is associated with this building, that dates back to the time when it was first built.

The mansion was built by a huntsman in the court of King Carlos V for his daughter Elena. She was rumored to be a mistress of Carlos V's son, later King Felipe II. Soon after the completion of the house she married an army captain, who was soon deployed and tragically died in the line of duty. Elena became grief-stricken at this point and this is the part that gets a little tricky. She ended up dying, but it's possible that she was murdered, and it's also possible that she gave birth to a baby girl just before she died. The scandalous part is that her body disappeared so no investigation could be done. Of course instead of Felipe being implicated as an attempt to cover up their amorous involvement, her father was accused and interrogated. Shortly thereafter the broken old man's body was found hanging from a wooden beam in the House of the Seven Chimneys.

For many months after her mysterious death, multiple people saw a specter of a pale woman in a gauzy white dress holding a torch and moving amongst the seven chimneys. It would kneel down, pound her chest in grief and then point westward towards the Royal Palace, where Felipe, now crowned King, was living. Then the figure would mysteriously vanish. The rumor was that it was Elena's ghost condemning the king for having her murdered and hiding her body instead of allowing a proper Christian burial.

In the 19th Century the Banco de Castilla bought the property and did major renovations in the basement. When they removed the floor to install new plumbing they found the bones of a female human skeleton. Even more curious was that the bones were buried with several gold coins dating from the 16th Century.

A chilling side note on the seven chimneys: The theory is that because the house was built on the outskirts of old Madrid, the chimneys represented the seven deadly sins.

Ok, one more story before bedtime. This one is about the assassination of Admiral Luis Carrero Blanco on December 20, 1973. He was prime minister and designated successor of Franco. After he attended mass on Sunday morning, driving up Claudio Coello, 100 kilos of explosives buried in the sidewalk blasted his car up and all the way over the building to land in the interior garden.

Cracks in the road surface and damage on the cornice of the building from where the car struck it are still visible.

The ETA had been planning the attacks for months. The basement of the building had been rented by a supposed "sculptor", which justified the noise of drilling and comings and goings to excavate the tunnel under the sidewalk, and somehow hadn't aroused the neighbors suspicions. A stone plaque now rests on the side of the building to memorialize the event.

Fallen angels, gigantic monuments and an open-air sculpture museum

Madrid is home to the only statue in the world dedicated to Lucifer, the fallen angel who is believed to become the devil. It's well worth a detour to see, especially since it's in beautiful Retiro Park. Sculpted by Ricardo Bellver, a Madrid sculptor living in Rome in 1877, it caused a great deal of controversy when the Duke of Fernán Núñez purchased the statue to be placed in this popular crossroads in the Retiro. Especially to religious folks, it was unthinkable to have a monument dedicated to Lucifer in a public park, but the Duke explained that it was a work of incredible artistic workmanship and a metaphor of the fate that may arise for those who show excessive pride.

Possibly the most curious fact about this statue is that it's location is exactly 666 meters above sea level, interpreted by some as the number of the Anti-Christ.

It depicts Lucifer as a winged youth being dragged to the netherworld by a large seven-headed serpent entwined around his legs. It was inspired by John Milton's poem Paradise Lost: "...his pride had cast him out from Heaven, with all his host of rebel angels... round he throws his baleful eyes that witnessed huge affliction and dismay mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate". The symbolism of the statue is complicated because the Romans believed that Lucifer carried the light that could save humanity even though he was bound to his destiny, and also the serpent that entwines him may represent wisdom.

The pedestal was designed by José Urioste with eight gargoyle-like heads spouting water, and the statue was unveiled in its current location in 1885, undoubtedly becoming the talk of the town.

Walking along Calle Mayor you will come into view of another fallen angel statue, but this one is called Accidente Aereo, a sculpture by Miguel Ángel Ruiz in 2006. In the artist's words: "Ni Ícaro, ni el diablo. Es un aviador distraído". He describes it as a Being who has flown around the Peninsula for thousands of years and when he unexpectedly comes into contact with the high-rises of Madrid he crashes into one of them.

Moving on to non-angel related sights, strolling up Calle Serrano just North of Puerta de Alcalá will bring you face to face with gigantic monuments dedicated to the discovery of America. This is Monumento de Descrubrimiento, erected in 1970, and is adjacent to Plaza de Colón (which has a great statue of Christopher Columbus in the center of the rotary) and the Archaeological Museum (still not open because of remodeling, but it's anticipated to be one of the best museums in Madrid once it opens it's doors again). Also, the garden next to the monument has the most gigantic Spanish flag on earth.

Walking just a little farther North on Calle Serrano will take you to a fascinating open-air sculpture museum, Museo de la Escultura Abstracta, located underneath the overpass of Paseo de Eduardo Dato. There are 17 abstract sculptures here including works by Joan Miró, Eduardo Chillida, and Alberto Sánchez. My favorite one is the giant concrete block suspended in mid-air by cables hanging from the bridge. It looks like it could have been made by the engineers of the bridge, with the same materials and pragmatism, so well integrated into the environment that it would be easy to walk right by it. But then there's that moment you realize, no wait, why would they have put that here? That's art.

Eduardo Chillida

Saint's blood, nun's pastries, and Arab walls

Every July 27th in Madrid there is an event where a vial of blood is taken out of it's preserved case, liquefied in front of masses of devotees, and then once the day is over, taken back to coagulate and preserve itself for many years to come.

Image from quehaydonde.es

The legend is that this is the blood of Saint Pantaleón, who was executed by a Roman emperor in 305AD. Pantaleón was a doctor who had heard of a God who was supposedly quite powerful. One day he was faced with a boy who had just died from a snake bite and he challenged this God - he said, if there really is a God then let this boy be saved and the snake perish. Miraculously, the child was revived and the snake suddenly died. Pantaleón was so moved that he decided to convert to Christianity. Once the Emperor found out, he had Pantaleón publicly tortured and decapitated. After the execution, Christians carefully collected the blood of the martyred saint and their descendants have preserved the sacred blood for thousands of years since.

We weren't able to see the sacred blood today because the monastery was already closed but this is the doorway to the Real Monasterio de la Incarnación, where the vial is kept. There is also a crypt filled with glass shelves from floor to ceiling displaying relics from various saints - hair, fingers, skulls, teeth, arms, you name it - collected since 1616.

UPDATE: We saw the sacred blood. Dean and I arrived at the convent around noon on a Saturday, just in time for the one-hour tour (in Spanish). The reliquary did have an impressive collection, including the blood of San Pantaleón. There was a thriving market for saint's relics back then, since people thought the bones had the same miraculous powers of the saints. At one point there were so many fake relics being manufactured that each of the saints would have had to have around 800 bodies, so the tradition became less popular once people realized they were being fooled.

Speaking of saints, there is a very prominent saint in Madrid, possibly the patron saint, San Isidro. His remains are supposedly incorrupt, and taken out on rare occasions (possibly this coming July 2012 for the anniversary of a battle where he miraculously appeared 40 years after his death, and gave the king strategic advice).

The body is reputedly kept in this ornate gold and silver casket above the altar of the Colegiata de San Isidro el Real (Calle de Toledo 37). To learn more about the saint and his many miracles, there is a museum dedicated to him (Plaza de San Andrés 2).

Around the corner from this church is the Convento de las Monjas del Corpus Christi, whose cloistered inhabitants are called "Las Carboneras" (The Coal Women) due to their discovery of a painting of the Virgin Mary in a coal bin, which is now hanging in the church. The nuns also happen to sell delicious pastries. If you're in Madrid and get the urge for some blessed "dulces", definitely follow these steps:

1. Find this door. It's on Plaza del Conde de Miranda 3. Cloistered nuns have lived here for hundreds of years, in much the same manner as they did during the Inquisition. There are 37 other nunneries in the city, and many of them specialize in their own types of pastries.

You'll see this number on the wall when you're in the Plaza. It's literally around the corner from Mercado San Miguel (which is a perfect place for lunch before visiting the convent for dessert).

2. Ring the second bell. You have to ask the nun that answers the bell to be let in. I said, "Buenas días, queríamos dulces." and she proceeded to tell me to push open the door and come in.

3. You'll wind through the narrow hallways to get to this ancient lazy-Susan looking contraption. If you get lost, follow the sign for "torno". There is a menu on the wall with things like pastas de almendra and naranjines, but you can also buy the box of pastries, like we did. The nun made it really easy for us and put two boxes on the turntable.

4. Put the money on the turning shelf and take your goods!

5. Eat them. 8 euros for the box but worth every penny. They are delicious. Nothing too fancy, just sugar and deliciousness.

Moving on to non-religious related items... I'm obsessed with discovering the relics of ancient Arab fortifications around Madrid. Thousands of years ago Madrid was inhabited by the Moors who built a defensive wall around the city. During construction of the modern city, many remnants dating back to the 9th century of the boundary wall have been found, some in the randomest places. Here is how you can find them:

Probably the best-preserved segment is in the park of Emir Mohamed I behind the Almudena Cathedral. Also the location of the annual summer music festival in Madrid.

Every 60 feet along the wall there was a watchtower, one of which can be discovered in a relatively new parking garage under the Plaza de Oriente. You can either take the stairs into the garage or the glass-walled elevator. It's the oddest discovery in an unpleasant space filled with cars and smelling of paint, to witness one of the ancient archaeological treasures of Madrid. Apparently it is the only remnant that was saved from destruction when the garage was built, thanks to objections from people of Madrid.

The next two portions of the wall take a little more work to find. They are on Calle de la Cava Baja 10 and 30, both in the ground floor area of residential buildings.

Here's the thing: you have to be buzzed in by one of the tenants in order to see the sites. Kind of a challenge, but it just adds to the adventure. Luckily someone was coming out of both locations just as we were approaching, so with a swift explanation the tenants agreed to let us pass.

Passing through a nondescript hallway leads you to the open stairwell area with a towering portion of the wall. This is also the moment that Dean accidentally broke off a piece of the wall, which proceeded to crumble into a million pieces.

This is the view from Cava Baja 10. I wonder what it feels like to live in a building with remnants of a wall that's over 1,000 years old. Then walking outside onto one of the most bustling streets in Madrid. Cava Baja is very famous for the tapas crawl, "ir de tapas", when Madrileños wander from bar to bar ordering small plates of food and cañas (small beers), because each tapas bar has its own delicious specialty. I'm waiting for a local to lead us on this tradition because the idea of squeezing into the crowded bars and having no idea how to order is terrifying.