In the last few weeks visiting Spain, I discovered that I am not a fan of the selfie stick. With their backs to the magnificence of Seville’s Alcázar, Córdoba’s Mezquita and the courtyards of Granada’s Alhambra, endless troupes of tourists raised selfie-sticks towards themselves like fishermen without a pier.
Selfie-takers don’t always appear to study, or even enjoy the wonders they visit. Their eventual aim seems to transmit images of themselves in front of the site. I’ve never seen selfie-takers at municipal dumps or eyesores so the desirability of a transmitted selfie must rely on the reputation or perhaps, newsworthiness of the backdrop: sightseeing is not essentially about looking at, or understanding, where you are. It seems to be about telling everybody what a great time you are having while you take your selfies. Each set of shots is followed by scrutiny of phone and images and it can all take a very long time, especially if you are there to see what they are in front of. We are living in a peculiarly self-obsessed world and I don’t ‘get’ the selfie thing at all: in fact, it makes me sad.
I’m getting on a bit and still like to sit and look at things. Sometimes I take photos, and nothing beats drawing as long as I’m not messing up the view for other people. Drawing ensures I’m ‘there’ – like nothing else. I’m dangerously near sounding smug, so I’ll just put up a selection of sketches and drawings from the trip. I’ve chosen ones related to pattern, or textiles and am avoiding pictures everyone knows. It’s a fairly random selection, so please excuse lack of coherence.
The Feast of the Immaculate Conception
The 8th December is the day of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, which is a public holiday in Catholic Spain. Checking my Twitter feed that morning in Córdoba, I learned from the Reverend Richard Coles’ feed (@RevRichardColes) that blue liturgical vestments are permitted, by Papal decree, on 8th December in Spain. They are not worn on any other day of the year. I looked in on a Mass to see if he was right (he was), but did not take a photo. I idly wondered if the Papal decrees might be the result of lobbying by medieval woad or indigo dyers, so I checked on their dates. They were all granted in the late nineteenth century so I think it most unlikely.
Below is one of the elaborate statues of the Virgin Mary brought out for the feast day. She has a richly embroidered blue velvet robe and cloak. At the time I made no note of the lovely church where I saw her but the wonders of the internet reveal it to be the Iglesia Conventual del Santo Angél.
The Banner of Fernando III
During my visit to Seville, I of course went to its much-fêted Cathedral. I was completely unmoved by its vastness and found the building architecturally incoherent and not at all uplifting. I am not religious, but I can still be moved by a religious building and I found this one too big, too twiddly and too opulent. The enormous tomb reputed to contain the remains of Columbus is set within the Cathedral (yes, the selfie-takers were in front of it too).
The Giralda was more interesting. This huge tower, started in 1184, was once the minaret of the mosque originally on the site of the Cathedral and the climb to the top comprises 35 sets of ramps, built so that a horse could be ridden to the top to the top. It is set on the edge of the extensive Cathedral courtyard, with groves of oranges trees still in fruit when I went. I found the space peaceful despite the crowds there, and more moving than the Cathedral itself.
What really engaged my interest within the Cathedral was a glass-topped case at the west end. It contains the banner of Fernando III (later canonised as San Fernando). The banner has great historical importance as not only did it symbolise the capitulation of the Moors at Seville in 1248, but also united the heraldic arms of Castile and León for the first time. The original banner was made in the first half of the thirteenth century of pieced and embroidered silks. In the 1990s it was found to be in an exceptionally poor state of repair and urgent conservation was undertaken. Information suggests that conservation rather than restoration took place, but I’m curious about the brightness of some yellow areas because it would be normal for most yellow dyes to have faded over 700 years. The inset image shows a diagram of the original design of the banner but is very poor quality because it was taken through glass at a difficult angle. The original colours are listed as red, yellow, purple and silver.
The link to the Instituto Andaluz del Patrimonio suggests that some dye analysis was done during the conservation work in 1999. I have yet to find a published paper on the findings. Naturally, I am curious about the purple dye (a colour associated with high status), which was used for the appliquéd lions. It’s unlikely to be orchil, which would have faded to beige by now, but as it’s hard for a casual visitor to see what fabric is original and what is restored, who knows? It was a little frustrating to see many textiles displayed in church or cathedral treasuries, such as the Chinese-inspired vestment seen in Ronda (see top of page) with no explanations, details, dates, provenance etc.
Spain, though, is an amazing country for its visual inspiration, its history, buildings, landscape and wildlife. I just love Spain. But I need to improve my Spanish before I go back: I’m working on it.
The controversy over paintings in the Almudena Cathedral, Madrid here
The Giralda Tower, Seville here
Article in Spanish on the Banner of Fernando III here
Statement on the conservation of the banner by the Instituto Andaluz de Patrimonio Histórico here
Blue Vestments: clearly a subject of some discussion within the Catholic Church; check the comments beneath this post