On the drive down from Andorra, through the clear skies of the Pyrenees, the soon-to-be verdant scenery of rural southwest France, and the quietude of Catalonia as an entrance into the Iberian peninsula. We saw a hazy vision of the Catalan Pre-Coastal Range pop up onto the horizon. There’s Sant Jeroni, Montgrós and Miranda de les Agulles, with peaks ranging from 2,962 to 4,055 feet above sea level. From a distance, they’re jagged and ragged and they struck me as the sort of thing I would put to paper if you asked me to draw a mountain.
Imagine going up there, The Yankee said. We were still a good distance away and I said no one drives up there.
This was “Montserrat,” a Catalan word which means means “serrated (like the common handsaw) mountain” — a precise name for a rugged place — and as we got closer, following the general trend of the road, we realized we were going up there. And so we did.
Montserrat is the highest point of the Catalan lowlands, with commanding views of the countryside. The road up is five miles, moderately steep grade and some lovely hairpin switchbacks to give it all a bit of character. And when you get up there, into the peaks, you find yourself on a flat spot, but still looking up.
Just below these peaks, you’ll find Santa Maria de Montserrat Abbey, founded in the 11th century and still an active monastery, where more than 70 monks live today.
Here we are standing in the courtyard of the abbey, which was burned and looted twice during the Napoleon’s invasion of Spain. During the Spanish Civil War in the 1930s 22 monks who lived here were murdered. The Germans visited here quite often a decade later and, since World War II this site has been a prominent symbol of Catalonian nationalism, and has long been an important feature of the local culture. This is a post WW2 facade.
The origin is a bit murky. In the ninth century an important statue was found here, according to legend. More certainly, in the 11th century a monk was sent from one monastery to another and from the subsequent church politics the monastery of Santa Maria was born. That venerated statue is an important part of the place, and I’ve now unsuccessfully reduced a millennia into two sentences.
In 1881 Pope Leo XIII gave this place the status of a minor basilica. The Plateresque Revival facade was built in 1901, by the architect Francisco de Paula del Villar y Carmona, who was completing his father’s work. It’s quite something to take in. Small courtyard, with an imposing, yet not overwhelming style. It came from a time that blends things that feel old and modern to our contemporary eyes. It’s neat and tidy, feels quite collegial, and they built all of this making great concessions to topography.
I used the term collegial on purpose, since so much of this place has a wonderful, peaceful campus feel. I spend too much time on a college campus, of course, but I’m sure, in places like this, that the college campuses that get it right were all moved by kernels of inspiration from places like this.
It is even in the walls.
The basilica’s origins date to the 16th century and was rebuilt for the first time in 1811, after the Peninsular War. The new facade was built between 1942 and 1968, after the destruction brought about during the Spanish Civil War. There are reliefs featuring prominent members of church, and monastery history. On one frieze there’s the phrase “Catalonia will be Christian or it will not be,” which is a quote attributed to an early 20th century bishop, and from there you can see how this place is important to the region on down the mountain.
The church is of a single nave, some 220 feet long and 108 feet high. The roof is supported by central wooden columns representing Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and Daniel. The main altar features enamel decorations of the Last Supper, the Multiplication of Loaves and Fishes and other biblical stories. The 15th century cross is the work of Lorenzo Ghiberti, an Italian Renaissance sculptor, a key figure in the Early Renaissance.
We visited the room of the Virgin, which is full of beautiful mosaic walls and paintings. This is one of those places where a knowledgable guide could point to everything you see, and make you dizzy with its historical weight, it’s spiritual importance and the craftsmanship of generations past. Most people wander aimlessly, or chit chat their way through the place.
And if not for the chit chatters, one small group placed conveniently behind us, you’d be hard pressed to find a more quiet and solemn indoor space.
Back outside, in the abbey’s courtyard, I took a little panorama. Click to embiggen.
And we stood there just long enough to see the sun slice through the mountain’s peak. I wonder what monks, what guests, what spiritual seekers, have stood there over the centuries and what they must have thought about seeing this same view.
And then we did the thing where I take a photo of The Yankee striking a sculpture’s pose.
The museum was, sadly, closed for some renovation work. Inside, though is one of Spain’s most significant collections. Caravaggio, Dali, Picasso, Monet, Degas, El Greco, Renoir, Sean Scully, Vaccaro and a collection of ancient world archeology would be on display. I hate that we missed that. We’ll have to go back.
More on the legend of Our Lady of Montserrat.
This evening we completed the drive back to Barcelona. We are staying at an airport hotel. The hotel is right on the beach. We had dinner at a snooty place, got a gelato, dropped off the rental car and we’re now reshuffling things in luggage. Tomorrow we’ll fly back. Spain was brief, but fun. We’ll come back to Barcelona one day, I’m sure. Andorra we loved, and I bet we’ll be back there, as well.
How does next week sound?
