Categories
Architects Architecture Art Design Developers Town Houses

Miranda de Ebro Basque Country + Architecture

Aristocrazies

Somewhat overshadowed by her coastal big sisters Bilbao and Donostia San Sebastián, inlander Miranda de Ebro is the least known of the Spanish cities of Basque Country. Although with a population of just under 40,000 – on a par with Drogheda in County Louth or Westport in Connecticut – she is at the lower end of urban scale.

The spirit of the place gradually reveals herself on the approach from the railway station to the River Ebro. There are two churches contrasting with one another close to the river. The Church of St Nicolás de Bari is strikingly contemporary with its bright brownish red brick and clean lines highlighted by stone trimmings: the roundness of a giant rosette and blind arches is a counterpoint to the squareness of the belltower. Circa 2005 perhaps?Only six decades out. The church was inaugurated in 1945 and the belltower was completed a decade later. A Romanesque church on the site was destroyed by fire in 1936. The architects were Ramón Aníbal Álvarez and Pablo Cantó Iniesta who belonged to the Group of Spanish Artists and Technicians for the Progress of Contemporary Architecture.Contemporary indeed: from the rationalised exterior to the transept free basilica plan, the Church of St Nicolás de Bari resonates with harmonious modern sensibility. The architects’ vision was brought to fruition by builders Sixto Erquiaga and the Segura-Jaúregui brothers. A banner hanging on the northeast facing Calle San Augustin façade states “Making a path; creating community”.The river bankside Church of the Holy Spirit is 700 metres to the west of the Church of St Nicolás de Bari as the Middle Spotted Woodpecker flies. This charming Romanesque with a Gothic arched entrance door stone building is the oldest place of worship in the city. Badly damaged in 1936 in the Spanish Civil War, the church was restored 36 years later. A Latin cross floorplan contains a single nave.Nestling amidst the rickety charm of the left bank Old Town is the Church of Santa Maria. It was built of salvaged stone in the 16th century Renaissance style. Even the pepper pot shaped bell tower is faced in stone. The layout is formed of three naves of equal length. The church faces tiny Plaza de Santa Maria and sides onto the four metre wide Calle la Cruz and Calle de las Escuelas.

Apolo Theatre backs onto Plaza de Santa Maria. The mustard coloured rendered building was built to the design of Fermín Álamo in 1921. A vertical extension by architect Miguel Verdú Belmonte, completed in 2015, contrasts with the original neoclassical architecture in colour (white) and style (minimalist). Another recent addition to the cityscape is the M Monument designed by local artist José Luis Dufourg Duaso. The 2010 giant 13th letter of the alphabet stands on the Calle del Ferrocarril roundabout. It’s painted in the city’s coat of arm colours: blue, yellow and red.

Perched on Picota Hill on the left bank above the River Ebro, the crumbling Castle of Miranda de Ebro is strategically located in this border region. It was built in medieval times and damaged in the 19th century Carlist Wars. The origins of the city are even older, likely dating from the Roman era. Miranda de Ebro has edge. Miranda de Ebro has grit. Miranda de Ebro has character. And she has the best oriel turret winter gardens imaginable.

Categories
Art Fashion People

Daphne Guinness + Sleep

Be Careful What You Dream

Racing across London in the heat of a midsummer afternoon, the car windows down, the wind in our hair, causing waves, making waves, waving to passersby, while over the airwaves Solitaire plays. “She prayed for salvation. She wept for their pride. She cried for San Sebastián. And every single arrow in his side.” We’re duetting with our driver. The anticipation crescendos as we arrive at our secret destination. Diana Mitford’s granddaughter and Desmond Guinness’s niece doesn’t disappoint.

Daphne Guinness is even more exquisite, more elegant and more eloquent in real life. And just a little shy although by the end of the afternoon we have her laughing. She has her grandmother’s sharp cheekbones and her uncle’s piercing blue eyes. A model figure is accentuated by a trademark monochromatic outfit. She knows how to pull off a silhouette. Her white blonde pompadour (‘hair’ is for non human art installations) with just a dash of pink is splayed up with the help of kanzashi. Alexander McQueen sculptures to stride on (again, not mere ‘shoes’) and silver clad fingers complete the look.

Sleep is Daphne’s fifth album and is getting justifiably rave reviews. Traces of Beethoven and Pet Shop Boys are discernible but her music style is unsurprisingly unique. “The album has taken from conception till now three and a half years. I’ve released five videos from it so far. I want to be the crossover between sound and vision, the two different disciplines. And because I’ve been working with many photographers over the years, especially David LaChappelle. To me, when I’m writing the songs they’re all quite visual. Some of the tracks are condensed classical form: first act, second act, third act, fourth act, resolve. Others are just pop tracks with none of that narrative. But several are actually building out worlds in verse.”

“My first album was made with visionary photographer and director Nick Knight. And then Paul Fryer for the second one. Two with David. And then this one with Malcolm Doherty and David and so on. The good times always have to start!” We tell Daphne that every track on her album could be a single. “That’s what you try and do as an artist. In writing lyrics I try to cut out every piece of slack, chop every word that isn’t useful. A song can come kind of fully formed but then you need to sculpt it.” We venture how she has taught a generation to pronounce ‘chimera’. Daphne bursts out laughing. Surprisingly loudly, considering how softly she speaks. “Sometimes you just use a word because it’s really fantastic to use and add some nuance round it.”

“I didn’t go to university. I’m an autodidact. I read books all the time. My song Love and Destruction is a condensed reading of Nietzsche. It’s a philosophical text.” But she needed encouragement to take the first steps in her artistic musical career – that shyness. “I was in the studio for my first album, crouched under the desk in a corner and David Bowie came in and dragged me out by the ankles and said, ‘Come on – out! You’ve got to stand up! Stop hiding!’ Anyway, he really was instrumental in that album and was the shadow producer or godfather producer. I was his project – how wonderful to be his project. He was very funny and great.”

Daphne reminisces about her childhood. “I spent my early life in the country nine miles from Nuneaton, on the border of Leicestershire and Warwickshire. When I was growing up there all the mines were being shut down. It’s very grey, it’s very bleak. But it’s brilliant! It’s actually quite nice growing up in a bleak place. You develop an imagination around that. People ignore the Midlands at their peril. I have moved around a lot – Spain, Switzerland, Ireland, France, the US.”

“I went to school in London to begin with and then I was sent away to a really really bad boarding school and I kind of fell apart. I got into Guildhall where I trained as an opera singer, did all the exams. I then went off and got married at 19 and had three children. And again, the autodidact came out and I continued to train in opera.” We just have to bring up Solitaire. That infectious laugh once more. “You know it’s almost worth going through all the terrible things in my life to get a song like Solitaire. It almost sounds like you need to be nearly killed or put into the most terrifying positions to end up with a song like that! I expelled ghosts. I collapsed after I recorded the song – it was like everything was gone.”

Mishima is the second track on Sleep and is about the Japanese writer. I had a Japanese nanny from I was three to five so I was fluent in Japanese. When Mishima died she was in tears. She taught me how to do reciprocal behaviour – my father found me in tears on the staircase at home and he said, ‘What are you doing?’ I mean, you can see from my hairstyle …” Ah, the origin of the kanzashi. “What’s really interesting is the San Sebastián connection in Solitaire. Mishima famously did these pictures of San Sebastián with the arrows. Our home in Cadaqués was named after San Sebastián. There are so many weird threads that go in and out. You couldn’t make it up!”

“I was going to give up recording after my third album. I thought it was pretty good. It was a monster to mix this album with all the strings and the drums. Normally at this stage of an album I’m ready for hospital … That’s why I started doing videos because I wasn’t sure if I would survive this process. I thought well if I do videos and something happens … Actually I feel alright. I hope people like the album and the words and the atmosphere get through. You have no idea if it’s going to resonate with anybody else but I’d prefer to live and die on a perfect pitch, stanza, iambic pentameter, to get a real message across.”

“We’re living in urgent times. But Sleep has got a very upbeat sound and yet the message is serious but actually there’s optimism in it. All the tracks are my favourites in so many ways. The only person I’m trying to beat is myself really. I don’t even go for a walk without a goal.” We don’t want to leave but our driver has arrived and it’s time to go. He blasts No Joke full volume on the return journey. “You’re flesh and blood. You won’t be here for long. Don’t push your luck … Before your eyes, an enigma lies.” Debo Devonshire’s great niece and Clementine Lady Beit’s cousin twice removed doesn’t disappoint. In Daphne Guinness’s departing words: “It’s a mysterious journey.”