Welcome to the half remembered future

The last time I posted up about a city visit - San Sebastian - what was meant to be a pithy résumé of the place's charms turned into a rambling, ill-constructed piece about the relationship of civilisation to the development of delicious bar snacks. On the basis that if I can't manage to be pertinent, then at least I could be more concise, I've decided to chop our two day visit to Valencia into four tasty morsels. First - Ciutat de las Artes y las Ciencias - an ensemble of gigantic post-modern buildings constructed at the southern end of the Jardin del Turia, a green space formed from a dry riverbed that half circles Valencia city centre.

There was quite a fashion towards the end of the last century and the beginning of this one for landmark projects to project cities into global consciousness - to heighten their profile - sometimes literally, in the case of Dubai's Burj Khalifa, Shanghai Tower, Manhattan's One World Trade Centre or London's Shard. The hankering after the iconic goes beyond the world's great cities, more modest places have attempted to catapult themselves into our consciousness through startling vanity projects - Tyneside for example with the Sage concert hall in Gateshead and Anthony Gormley's gigantic 'Angel of the North' by the side of the A1.  Almost all these projects were greeted by public outrage at the outset as most were funded by plunging the municipal authorities into crippling debt. Ciutat de las Artes y las Ciencias was no exception. The complex, which was commissioned by a socialist administration, was dismissed as a pharaonic folly by the conservative council who succeeded it. 

However, despite the apparently crippling cost these iconic projects do seem to work. Valencia is now one the top five places to visit in Spain. Two decades ago that would certainly not have been the case. Dubai's futuristic skyline has put it on the long-haul stopover map and even Newcastle-upon-Tyne has a thriving weekend break trade, thanks in part to its remodelled riverside, dominated by the mirror roofed, slug-shaped Sage and the post industrial bulk of the Baltic arts centre.

What The Sage, Ciutat de las Artes y las Ciencias, and Dubai's Burj Khalifa have in common is they are built in a sub-genre of post-modern architecture dubbed 'neo-futuristic'. The odd thing about the futuristic is it is not primarily about the future. Rather it is an evocation today of how in the past we once imagined the future might look like. So, the Ciutat de las Artes and Ciencias looks like a backdrop from 'The Jetsons' drawn by Gaudi.

The Modernista influence goes far beyond the the curvaceous organic forms of the buildings themselves. Mainstream twentieth century architecture, well up until the 1960s, largely accepted as canonical the ideas of Gropius, Le Corbousier and Wright that form must follow function. Santiago Calatrava and Félix Candela, the designers of five main buildings in Valencia are as much structural engineers and sculptors as architects, and the buildings startling design and breathtaking ingenuity are the qualities that strike you rather than issues of practicality and fitness for use.

We did not attend an event in the concert hall or go to the science museum or aquarium. Apart from anything else the tickets prices are somewhat eye-watering. So I have no idea if these giant architectural sculptures function well or badly for the purpose they were designed for. The place is visually stunning. We took scores of photos - here's a few -

Tomorrow Land

Architecture as sculpture

The art of the grandiose gesture

A few final thoughts...

It is impossible not to be overwhelmed by the scale and ambition of the complex, but we both were left with nagging doubts. The first is to do with geography. Valencia is further south than Rome, approximately at the same latitude as Corfu. Among the gleaming white buildings, acres of white paving, sheets of shimmering pools, humans simply cook on a hot day, and there are many hot days.

The location at the seaward end of the old Turia riverbed also means that the place is a bit of a wind tunnel. The stylish outdoor café beneath the concert hall looks great, but is uncomfortably breezy. It also served us the worst coffee we have ever had in Spain. Moreover, who decided that piping truly dreadful soft rock - Bryan Adams perhaps - was going to enhance the experience. By now we were hot, windswept and grumpy.

Gill commented, "it feels like an Olympic Park a fortnight after the games finished." It's true, there is little to do other than pay to visit the museums. A half hearted attempt has been made to turn one of the ponds into a boating lake, but the breeze and the searing heat don't make this a particularly attractive proposition. By now there were small, but feisty organised tour groups invading the space. As Gill studied a map board she was swamped by a gaggle from some cruise ship. The group leader plonked himself in front of her. "Would you like me to move?" Gill enquired icily. Irony was lost on him. "Yes," he replied brightly." 

We made our way to the metro station by walking northwards through the Jardin del Turia. This green corridor, full of tall palm trees was a cool haven after the previous blistering heat. It was not quiet however, the trees are home to a raucous flock of feral parakeets.

I had assumed that the park was very old and the river had not flowed here for hundreds of years. Later I discovered that the entire development is only a generation old. In 1957 the river Turia flooded, swamping the old centre of Valencia. Many people drowned. An ambitious plan was put in place to change the course of the river so it flows into the sea south of the port area. The old river course next to the city walls was developed into a new park between 1964 and 1975. It too has a big concert hall within the park. Though somewhat more staid than the new one, I think I prefer it and the shady park it sits in to the futuristic vision found nearby in Ciutat de las Artes y las Ciencias.

The older I get the less of the future I will see; another quarter century if I am very lucky. In a sense, therefore, what is to come should not bother me. However, I wish for my children's sake a future full of palm trees and parakeets, rather than one of grandiose concrete monstrosities and rude cruise ship tour parties. I am happy for Nature to be awe inspiring but prefer culture to be human scale.