Gaudi (Bonus Episode)

If you thought goldenly breaded McDonald's chicken couldn't get more golden, think golder because new sweet and smoky special edition gold sauce is here, made for your chicken favorites at Participate in McDonald's for limited time.

It's mid-morning on the 11th of September, 1924.

Church bells ring out across the Spanish city of Barcelona.

Horse-drawn carriages pass clunking trams, and vendors on foot or bicycles shout over the bustling cafes of this medieval metropolis, speeding towards modernity.

Emerging from a narrow lane, two policemen head over to the church of Saint Justice and Pasta.

Its gothic belfry looms over the city's red roofs, casting a shadow on the busy plaza below.

Today is an important day for Barcelona.

Churches all over the city are holding mass to commemorate Catalan martyrs, heroes who died for Catalonia, an autonomous region of Spain encompassing Barcelona.

But General Rivera's dictatorship sees Catalan culture as a threat to a unified Spanish identity and has placed strict limitations on its language.

Plenty of citizens are angry about the crackdown, so these two officers have been tasked with seeking out and shutting down any political instigators.

Now, one of the policemen, squinting into the rising sun, spots a disheveled-looking man moving towards the church.

Street beggars, he knows too well, can often be disruptive.

He nudges his partner, and together they march over to block the old man's path.

Greeting him in Spanish, the older policeman asks for the stranger's identity and profession.

The man, hunched inside an ill-fitting suit with a large, unkempt beard, looks up and says nothing.

Irritated, the policeman repeats his request, while the old man glares at him with piercing blue eyes.

When the old man eventually responds, he does so in Catalan.

His name, he tells them, is Antony Gaude.

He's 71 years old and he is an architect.

And, he adds, while his profession requires him to pay his taxes, it does not obligate him to abandon his language.

Unsure what to make of this insubordination, the officer asks him to respond again in Spanish.

But the old man just lifts his chin and refuses.

Incensed, the policemen grab his arms and place him under arrest.

And even as they frog march him away from the church in front of the shocked crowd in the plaza, Gaudi remains silent, holding his head high in quiet defiance.

In a long life, spanning the late 19th and early 20th century, Antony Gaudi created some of history's best-loved architecture.

Deeply proud of his Catalan heritage, His roots influenced a vast catalogue of work that has come to define the city he loved.

From his early lamppost designs through to his great unfinished masterpiece, the Sagrada Familia Church, his unmistakable works are world-renowned, inimitable, iconic.

Today, his unique structures, inspired by natural forms, attract millions of visitors to the streets of Barcelona.

But how did this man, who began life as a sickly child from a working-class family of artisans, become one of history's best-loved architects?

What drove him to reject marriage and dedicate his life to serving God through art?

And why is his most famous building still unfinished today?

I'm John Hopkins.

From the Noisen Network, this is a short history of Antonio Gaudi.

The story begins on the 25th of June 1852 when Antonio Gaudi is born in Rejus, a city in southern Catalonia, Spain.

He is a sickly child, and early lung infections and arthritis often force him to miss school.

Despite having older siblings, he spends much of his time alone.

He takes solace in nature and loves the rivers, mountains, and ancient monasteries of rural Catalonia.

His mother fills his sick days with tales of Catholic saints, helping to instill a deeply held faith that will endure for life.

As Antony grows stronger, he attends school and begins to show an interest in craft work and geometry.

Noticing his talent, his father, a coppersmith, often takes him to the workshop and begins his instruction in the family trade.

Fascinated by his father's skills, Antonio watches as he heats, hammers, and molds copper sheets into elegant shapes and vessels.

In the workshop, he not only learns technical skills, but how to feel and imagine space in three dimensions.

With dreams of breathing new life into Catalonia's heritage, in 1868, he leaves home to enroll enroll at the Barcelona Higher School for Architecture.

Gaudi first lodges with his older brother Francisco, who studies medicine.

The city of Barcelona, an industrializing metropolis rich in medieval history, becomes the perfect canvas for Gaudi's imagination.

But he still makes time to roam the countryside.

On one such trip, he comes across the ruins of a monastery.

The ancient site, Poblet, moves him so much that he vows to rebuild it.

He draws up plans for its restoration, his first architectural endeavor.

Inevitably, a lack of experience, plus the fact that he is barely 18, sees the project stall.

But the enthusiasm for medieval architecture endures.

Paradoxically, though, his obsession with the built environment doesn't necessarily make for a smooth smooth passage through his architecture training.

Unwilling to blindly copy his teacher's styles, he instead spends hours studying images of ancient buildings from all over the world.

He's fascinated with all of it, from Islamic arches to Egyptian monuments, to Moroccan mudhouses.

But with little money and few family connections, he also needs to support himself.

He finds employment in city workshops, and though this ultimately encroaches on his academic progress, it gives him a chance to develop his masonry skills, which will stand him in good stead for his later work.

Lectures and exams often take a back seat to his independent pursuits.

But when he does attend, he produces astonishing work.

For one project, he creates an extraordinary cemetery gate.

embellishing the large wrought iron arch with intricate biblical imagery.

Early sketches include a full funeral cortege with individual hand-drawn mourners weeping beside his doorway, all under a brooding sky.

Though it's a triumph, his education now faces more disruption with the outbreak of civil war in Spain.

During the Third Carlist War, a dynastic battle deepened by ideological disputes between traditionalists and modernizers, Gaudi is conscripted into the infantry reserves.

The young architect is forced to miss a year of studies, but the conflict is resolved by 1876, enabling Gaudi to return to his academic pursuits and avoid front-line deployment.

But then tragedy strikes.

Gaudi's brother Francisco dies suddenly, aged just 25,

and is soon followed by his grieving mother.

A depression descends upon the young architect, and for the first time in his life, he starts a diary.

In one entry, he writes simply: must work hard to overcome the difficulties.

And one way or another, overcome them he does,

re-emerging to sketch upcoming projects and fully devoting himself to the world of architecture.

After a a tumultuous decade, Gaudi finally graduates in 1878.

As he does so, the school's director is said to remark: We are here today either in the presence of a genius or a madman.

Following his graduation, Gaudi takes various craft work jobs around Barcelona.

As his contact network expands, small-scale architecture commissions begin to come his way, and his designs become more extravagant and ornate.

One of his first commissions is a set of lampposts in the Plaza Real, the royal square of Barcelona's Gothic quarter.

The street lights each comprise a red and black cast iron column supporting a candelabra.

At their crowns is the helmet of the god Mercury, a symbol of Barcelona's flourishing commerce.

Next, Gaudi is commissioned to design workers' houses and storage rooms in Mataro, a town up the coast from Barcelona.

And it's while he's hard at work here that he falls in love.

Pepeta Moreo, a beautiful and free-spirited teacher at the local school, so entrances the inexperienced Gaudi that he eventually asks her to marry him.

But he is too late.

She is already engaged to another man.

Utterly embarrassed, Gaudi now resigns himself to religious celibacy and a deep fatalism towards romantic love.

He continues with other low-key projects until one fateful day he comes to the attention of one of Spain's wealthiest men.

In the late 19th century, trade exhibitions are popular across Europe.

At the Paris World Exposition in 1878, the industrialist Eusebi Guell admires a 12-foot golden display case showing a range of luxury gloves made in Barcelona.

But he hardly notices the gloves.

Instead, Guelle is in awe of the intricate floral designs etched into the case itself, crafted by the little-known Antonio Gaudi.

As a fellow Catalan, Guell feels compelled to seek out this young architect.

It's a decision that will change Gaudi's life and the landscape of Barcelona forever.

In the summer of 1880, Guell takes the young Gaudi under his wing.

Barcelona is by now a flourishing commercial hub, and together Guell and Gaudi are determined to imprint a modern vision of Catalan identity on the city.

Reinvigorated and with a little money in his pocket, Gaudi throws himself into the high society of Catalonia, mixing with artists, industrialists, politicians, and other architects.

Out of these circles grows the Modernista movement.

Linked to Art Nouveau, a style that focuses on natural, asymmetrical forms, the Modernistas aim to rediscover Catalan culture.

Gaudi's ambition is to combine disparate influences, European and Arabic, natural and geometric, to create a distinctive take take on Catalonian visual styles and create buildings that are almost living, breathing organisms.

In the 1880s, Gaudi becomes Eusebi Guell's chief architect.

Starting with small-scale projects like stable blocks and fountains, he eventually graduates to designing city palaces and private churches.

With each new commission, his ingenuity grows.

Most architects of the era adhere to neoclassical designs, producing grand but traditional shapes comprising of tried and tested basics of vertical pillars, flat walls, reliable and repeated angular forms.

Gaudi, though, subverts whatever he can, wherever he can.

Where his contemporaries see right angles, he brings in curves.

Where convention demands symmetry, he opts for irregularity.

Adorning his structures with flora, fauna, and the the kind of bulges, tendrils and concavities found more often in the jungle or the ocean than the city, his designs hum with vitality.

He is particularly fond of brightly colored tile mosaics crafted from recycled ceramics with which he brings his buildings to life inside and out.

His distinctive artistic style will become known as Trankadis.

Then, at 31 years old, Gaudi is offered a project that will occupy him for the rest of his life.

In 1883, Gaudi is approached by José Bocabella, an eccentric book dealer, with an appealing project.

He is building a new church in north-central Barcelona, but his original architect has just resigned.

As legend has it, Bocabella dreamed of finding a young architect with piercing blue eyes and, upon meeting Gaudi, believes he is the man destined to design the church.

The reality may be more prosaic.

As a young and relatively unknown architect, Gaudi is likely chosen because he is cheaper than his more experienced colleagues.

The initial design had been for a more traditional neo-Gothic church typical of the era, recognizable by its medieval-inspired decorative flourishes.

But with Gaudi on board, the entire shape of the planned edifice changes.

Soon, 50 masons and laborers, aided by eight horses and carts, begin work on the church.

The Sagrada Familia, or Sacred Family.

The immense scale and ambition of the project, along with its evolving and unconventional design, quickly establishes Gaudi as a visionary and promising architect.

But as work progresses, he develops a certain reputation.

Sitting on top of his carriage, parked in the street, he barks complex orders at builders as they toil away.

His relentless drive for perfection often sees him tearing down walls, ordering the destruction of whole rooms, and making his workmen start again.

It is a monumental, long-term project, and Gaudi must juggle many other projects along the way.

In 1886, he begins work on a city mansion for his patron, Guell, and his family.

It's planned as a Venetian-style palace to be located on the southern side of Las Ramblas, Barcelona's most famous street.

Doubling down against critics who mock the plans for something so grand in an area so riddled with crime and poverty, The stubbornly ambitious Gaudi maximizes the building's extravagance.

At the entrance, a giant red-striped Catalan shield adorns the front gates.

Inside, individually decorated marble columns create a tapestry of European and Islamic architecture.

Gaudi's mosaics frame the windows on all seven floors, and 20 chimneys tower above the neighboring buildings.

Quell is thrilled, but his accountant despises Gaudi's costliness.

I I fill Don Guell's pockets, he is said to complain, and Gaudi empties them.

And he's not exaggerating.

The palace alone costs about 1.7 million pesetas, approximately 1,500 times the cost of a typical house at the time.

As a result, Though Gaudi's architecture practice is by now thriving, many of Barcelona's bohemian artists denounce his wasteful wasteful extravagance.

But it is of little concern to Gaudi, who prefers to attend church over socializing with his godless critics.

And with the end of the century approaching, Guell is about to commission his most fantastical project yet.

By the late 19th century, Spain's empire is crumbling.

The defeat in the Spanish-American War of 1898 forces the once dominant nation to relinquish control of Cuba, Puerto Rico and the Philippines.

The sudden collapse of Spain's colonial markets forces textile tycoon Guel to seek alternative sources of income.

So he starts looking into property development.

In 1899, he purchases farmland in the Gracia district of northern Barcelona.

and commissions Gaudi to build Parque Guel, a luxury housing complex inspired by folklore, fairy tales, and the Catalan countryside.

Building work begins in 1900.

For the next 14 years, and with the help of a team of builders and artisans, Gaudi's Wonderland emerges.

The main entrance is flanked by two fairy tale-style houses, known colloquially as the Hansel and Gretel houses, because of their almost edible-looking facades.

Beyond the elaborate wrought iron gates rises an expansive stairway, home to a huge mosaic-covered salamander dribbling water into a pool.

At the top of the steps is the so-called hypostyle room, an open space originally intended as the estate's covered marketplace.

Its undulating ceiling is supported by 86 Doric columns.

But, gaudy being gaudy, many of them are constructed at an angle to evoke a sense of movement and disorientation.

Moving up the hill, residents pass mushroom-shaped pavilions, each made from recycled materials and surrounded by Mediterranean scrub.

Higher still, hidden pathways and giant boulders lead to the park's summit, where the city stretches out below into a breathtaking panorama.

But though undeniably unique, the park isn't a success as a housing development.

Of the sixty planned homes, only two are completed and sold, with Gaudi himself taking up residence in one.

So the project shifts from being an upper-class enclave to a city park.

For a small entry fee, Gaudi's wonderland can be enjoyed by everyone in Barcelona.

His elderly father joins him in his new residence, as does Rosa, his adult niece.

But she is beginning to struggle with alcoholism, and as Gaudi himself is working too hard to offer much help, it's up to his father to help manage her drinking and her failing health.

She becomes chronically ill, and, to Gaudi's regret, never fully recovers.

In 1906, Gaudi's father dies, leaving just the architect and his sickly niece in their Parque Gwell mansion.

Though times are troubled in Gaudi's park, an even greater catastrophe looms outside.

Amid a deepening economic depression triggered by the loss of Spain's colonies, workers across the city are growing tired of the extravagant excesses of the rich as their own wages fall.

Gaudi's luxurious churches and palaces are no longer revered, but derided.

And with tension already simmering in the streets, in July 1909, thousands of workers are conscripted to defend Spain's colonial territories in Morocco, leaving their families without a breadwinner.

It's the final straw.

Strikes and riots erupt throughout Barcelona, and as the violence intensifies, Gaudi's masterpieces stand on the brink of destruction.

It's a humid July morning in central Barcelona, 1909.

The air is heavy with lingering smoke from many days of rioting.

The streets littered with broken glass and overturned trams.

Jose Bello, Gaudi's building constructor, stands guard outside the Casa Emilia, Barcelona's newest apartment building.

Pacing in front of the majestic limestone construction that flows upwards like a white beehive, he scans the streets for trouble while his boss checks for damage inside.

Eventually, 57-year-old Antonio Gaudi emerges, locking the curved iron doors behind him.

Scratching his whitening beard, he mutters that his inspection is complete.

The building is unharmed.

But Jose frowns, picking up the sound of chanting in the distance coming closer.

He tells his employer it's time to leave, but Gaudi is determined to check his most prized work, and so they head off instead towards the Sagrada Familia Church.

After passing scorched wagon wheels and boarded-up cafes, they round the corner onto Aragon Street.

Suddenly, there is the sound of gunfire.

Distant, but enough to make the men stop in their tracks.

Instead of heading for safety, though, Gaudi increases his pace towards his beloved building.

Jose has little choice but to follow him.

When they arrive, They find the church undamaged.

Scaffolding still clings to its unfinished spires, and wooden beams across the entrance shield the arches from the chaos outside.

Jose now implores his employer to retreat to safety.

The veteran architect finally relents, and they head back to Parque.

But as they weave their way through the streets, their eyes begin to sting from smoke.

and the sound of protest grows louder.

They hurry to the park, close the gates, then climb to its highest point.

And what they see when they turn to survey the city below takes their breath away.

Ancient churches burn across the city.

To the west, waves of protesters flow through the streets, and mounted police charge at barricading rioters.

Catalonia's historic capital has descended into total anarchy.

I'm Scott Hanson, host of NFL Red Zone.

Lowe's knows Sundays hit different when you earn them.

We've got you covered with outdoor power equipment from Cobalt and everything you need to weatherproof your deck with Trex decking.

Plus, with lawn care from Scotts and, of course, pit boss grills and accessories, you can get a home field advantage all season long.

So get to Lowe's, get it done, and earn your Sunday.

Lowe's, official partner of the NFL.

Charlie Sheen is an icon of decadence.

I lit the fuse, and my life turns into everything it wasn't supposed to be.

He's going the distance.

He was the highest-paid TV star of all time.

When it started to change, it was quick.

He kept saying, no, no, no, I'm in the hospital now, but next week I'll be ready for the show.

Now, Charlie's sober.

He's going to tell you the truth.

How do I present this with any class?

I think we're past that, Charlie.

We're past that, yeah.

Somebody call action.

Yeah.

AKA Charlie Sheen, only on Netflix, September 10th.

What becomes known as the tragic week marks a downward spiral for Gaudi's fortunes.

Though his new building, the meandering Casa Milia, escapes damage during the unrest, the anti-church sentiments behind the riots lead investors to abandon its crown jewel, a rooftop sculpture of the Virgin Mary flanked by archangels.

Furious, Gaudi initiates what will become a prolonged court case against the wealthy Milia family.

His payment is delayed for seven years, and the aging architect is left utterly exhausted.

Disillusioned, Gaudi vows the Casa Milia will be his last secular building.

Ever his loyal patron, Gwell continues providing steady work, like the Crypt of Colonia Gwell, a church in a workers' village, which generates a modest income.

By now, though, Gaudi's style has begun to fall out of fashion.

His detractors complain that the man once called the Dante of Architecture has littered Barcelona with cartoonish vulgarities.

Then, in 1911, he is struck down by brucellosis.

or malta fever, contracted by drinking unpasteurized milk, and leaves Barcelona to to recover in the mountains.

A little after his return, his niece, Rosa, dies of alcohol-related illness, leaving him utterly heartbroken.

At 60 years old, Gaudi no longer has a single living relative.

And a few years later, his friend and reliable patron, Eusebi Guell, also falls ill and dies.

Most of Gaudi's work now grinds to a halt,

but one project remains incomplete.

Though Gaudi and his team have been doggedly working on the colossal Sagrada Familia for years, every time he revisits the project, his additions cause further delays.

Now, though, he is free from all distractions and decides to devote himself entirely to the church he calls the Cathedral for the Poor.

As he works, Gaudi becomes a recluse, a creature of habit.

His daily schedule of morning mass, construction of the Sagrada Familia, and evening confession is rarely interrupted.

But age and declining health take its toll.

In clothes that now hang loosely from hollow shoulders and using a walking stick to support himself, the disheveled architect is often mistaken for a street beggar.

This doesn't matter to Gaudi.

He has one job left, the Sagrada Familia Church, and one almighty patron, God himself.

The problem is, unlike Eusebi Guel, God doesn't have any money.

So as well as being the project's chief architect, Gaudi must also become its fundraiser.

While he cajoles and begs anyone from bishops to local shopkeepers for donations, slowly but surely, the church stretches higher above the city.

Reinforced with scaffold, four hexagonal towers twist upwards like giant honeycombs, while lower down, angels, shepherds, animals, flowers, and fruit adorn the façade.

Despite the constant work, the spires and much of the nave and vaults seem unfinishable.

And Gaudi's labor-intensive methods for the decorative elements are often ambitious and downright bizarre.

Chasing sculptures that are perfect copies of nature, he is not above knocking out chickens and turkeys with chloroform, casting them in plaster, then freeing them before they they wake up.

In order to faultlessly recreate human anatomy in his carvings, he is given special permission to observe autopsies at a local hospital.

But even this isn't enough.

For the sculptures of children, his team discreetly removes stillborn babies from the hospital and brings them to his workshop.

There,

Gaudi uses them for plaster casts to be used in the cathedral's representation of the biblical slaughter of the innocents.

A chilling sight that survives to this day.

Working day and night, Gaudi eventually leaves his Parque Guel home altogether, moving into the Sagrada Familia workshop to fully immerse himself in his final project.

But as the 20th century progresses, his country is changing.

Catalan nationalists and the Spanish government are increasingly at loggerheads.

In 1923, General Primo de Rivera overthrows the central Spanish government.

He then suspends the constitution and imposes strict laws that see public use of the Catalan language and nationalist symbols immediately banned.

Some of Gaudi's lampposts, one of his earliest projects, are removed by newly appointed officials.

Outraged by the growing oppression of his language and culture, he is arrested and briefly held by police in 1924 for refusing to speak Spanish to two policemen.

Even when King Alfonso XIII visits the Sagrado Familia Church, Gaudi addresses him solely in Catalan.

But he is by now too stubborn and too old to yield to anyone, even the king.

One visiting official allegedly asks Gaudi if he is concerned about the church's slow progress.

Looking to the heavens, he reportedly replies, My client is not in a hurry.

But while God may be in no rush, time is running out for the great Catalan architect.

It's the 7th of June, 1926.

Inside the Sagrada Familia Church, 73-year-old Antoni Gaudi admires the figures of the Nativity façade.

Though the stained glass windows haven't even been started, he turns to face the empty space where they'll be, imagining the vivid light show streaming in, moving up the complex forests of pillars as the sun sets.

He sighs, then turns to his workers.

Today's tasks are complete, he tells them.

It's time to go home.

As his team starts to pack up for the night, the elderly architect heads outside, unaware that this is the last time he will ever see his greatest masterpiece.

A little way to the south on Carrera de Bilene, the evening rush hour is underway.

The street is busy with commuters on foot, as well as as cars and clunking trams.

And a young waitress emerges from a cafe on the corner to wipe an outdoor table.

Glancing up to see a guitarist busking on the other side of the street, she notices an old man, possibly a beggar, shuffling straight towards the intersection.

Stick in hand, he ignores the wagons and honking trams as if they should wait for him.

She wonders if maybe she recognizes him, but then suddenly he disappears behind the green number 30 tram.

It screeches to an inelegant halt, and the driver, visibly startled, jumps out of his cab.

Concerned, the waitress puts down her cloth and rushes up the street to see what's happened.

At the junction, she sees the old man lying next to the tracks.

He's on his back, clasping his side, blood seeping from his ear.

A few concerned pedestrians try to help and manage to flag down a car, but the driver takes one look and drives away, certain that the man is just another street beggar.

It's not until the accident is later reported in the papers that he realizes how wrong he was.

Unrecognized, Antonio Gaudi lies in the road for a long time.

Bystanders hail four different taxis to take him to hospital, but each driver refuses, not wanting a beggar inside their car.

Finally, with the help of the police, his old adversaries, a taxi is ordered to drive the wounded architect to the Santa Cruz hospital, where he is recognized by a priest.

Gaudi is diagnosed with fractured ribs and cerebral contusions.

And though he clings to life for two more days, on the 10th of June 1926, he passes away.

Two days later, the man who changed the face of Barcelona makes the journey back to his beloved church, where he will be laid to rest in the crypt.

In a horse-drawn carriage, he travels slowly along Las Ramblas.

Tens of thousands line the streets to witness the funeral of a true Catalan legend.

He leaves behind an extraordinary body of work, much of it on full public display for anyone to enjoy.

From extravagant churches to elaborate street furniture, his structures are alive, explosive, vibrant, and most importantly, for the people.

Renowned as stubborn and cantankerous, he was also steadfast in his moral convictions.

His peculiar mix of Christian humility and Catalan pride drove him to create some of the world's most famous buildings.

And yet, until recently, his work has often been overlooked.

The dictatorship of Francisco Franco from the late 1930s brings a deeper repression of Catalan culture.

But towards the end of Franco's rule, as academics, architects, and tourists flood into Spain, Gaudi's buildings begin to gain a global reputation.

Today, his unique, flamboyant architecture draws millions of visitors to the streets of Barcelona.

However, Gaudi's most famous building, the Sagrada Familia Church, is still under construction.

Though Pablo Picasso famously derided the building, his claim that a finished work is a dead work might have resonated with Gaudi.

After all, with the plans shifting so often and so drastically during his lifetime, the Sagrada Familia resisted completion for decades and became an endless architectural experiment.

When it finally meets its projected deadline in 2026, exactly 100 years after Gaudi's death, we can only wonder whether its creator would approve, and more importantly, what his famously patient client might make of it.

Bundle and safe with Expedia.

You were made to follow your favorite band and from the front row, we were made to quietly save you more.

Expedia, made to travel.

Savings vary and subject to availability, flight inclusive packages are at all protected.