Life in Madrid

I’ve been working out of the Archivo Histórico Nacional (National History Archive) for much of the past week. The facility is located on the campus of the Consejo Superior de Investigaciones Científicas (CSIC), the equivalent of a national research council, in the Castellana neighborhood. The walk to get there takes only about twenty minutes from my place and meanders around the Museo Nacional de Ciencias Naturales (National Museum of Natural Sciences).

These walks have come to serve as a frequent opportunity to take note of my new surroundings. Along the way I’ve compiled a small list of some of the things that serve as daily reminder of my recent change of address. In no particular order:

1. The fact that a large number of madrileños ride motorcycles to work, even businessmen in their finely tailored suits.

2. The sound of European ambulances. You know what sound I’m talking about. You’ve heard it before, even if you haven’t been to Europe. If not, watch one of the Jason Bourne flicks. While I’m on the subject of sounds, I should also mention the chirp of the pedestrian crossing signal.

3. The frequent use of what Americans would describe as military time in place of designating am and pm. For example, the archive’s hours run 830-1800, or rather 8:30am-6:00pm. On the subject of displaying numbers, I’m also a frequent offender when it comes to not writing my 1s from the base of the line and crossing my 7s so as to differentiate both from 9s in the preferred European style. The archivists have been correcting my handwriting.

4. The increasingly awkward decision to greet by kisses, handshake, or bow. Generally the standard Spanish greeting is a kiss on both cheeks, or a handshake in more formal instances, however, fear of the Gripe A (Bird Flu) has led public health officials to encourage greetings by solemn bow. The whole campaign has led to a lot of confused public shuffling.

5. And yes, of course, the daily schedule: work until 2:30pm (1430) or so, eat lunch, sleep, work again until roughly 7:00pm (1900), and then eat again at around 9:30pm (2130).

On Saturday night, Madrid played host to La Noche en Blanco (White Night), in which much of the city was converted into an open air gallery for the creative and performing arts, complete with live music venues, art installations, and performances in many of the city’s main plazas. The major museums opened their doors for free from roughly 9:00pm-2:00am and performances continued until 7:00am. Police closed the Gran Vía and Paseo del Prado, Madrid’s main downtown thoroughfares, to vehicular traffic in lieu of pedestrians (check out the crowd in the photo).

My flat mates and I started the evening at the Fundación Lázaro Galdiano (Lazaro Galdiano Foundation), home to a private collection of European art from the medieval and early modern periods, on the north side of town before working our way south along Calle Serrano to the Plaza de Colón, home to both the Museo Arqueológico Nacional (National Archeology Museum) and the Biblioteca Nacional (National Library). Realizing that the line to get into the museum wrapped around the block, we opted instead to watch part of a Lope de Vega production put on by the Real Escuela Superior de Arte Dramático (Royal School of the Dramatic Arts) staged on the marble steps leading to the library’s main entrance.

Other memorable moments from the evening included an ad hoc dance party in front of the Palacio de Comunicaciones, watching a live broadcast of Radio Nacional de España (RNE) on the Paseo del Prado, and listening to “Rumba catalana” on Calle de Alcalá. The fact that the streets were closed meant that I could get close enoght to the Fuente de Cibeles to snatch a nightime shot.

Despite Saturday evening’s full force injection of the arts, I went to the Museo Sorolla on Sunday in order to take advantage of its weekly free admission day. The museum is housed in the former home and studio of Joaquín Sorolla, impressionist painter and all around Spanish favorite. I was told that a very recent exhibition (which closed my first weekend in town) of his work at the Museo del Prado broke all sorts of attendance records demonstrating this fact. Though I did not take my camera to the museum, I thought I might still post a picture of one of his works to give the reader a sense of his style. Pescadoras Valencianas (1915), attached here, comes from the museum’s website.

Arrival and Orientation

Before making my way across the Atlantic, I was fortunate enough to stop in Dallas to become a godfather to my cousin’s twins, Marissa and Nicolas. (I wish I could take credit for the name but we share a common namesake, my grandmother.) I share the distinction with my mother and sister. Two days later, my mother, sister, and her fiancé accompanied me to DFW International Airport for the long haul across the pond to Madrid’s technicolor Barajas International Airport.

My first few days in Madrid were a flurry of activity. The Fulbright Commission hosted the 2008-2009 grantees for several days of orientation activities at a university residence in the Gaztumbide neighborhood of the Chamberí district. In total, the number of grantees stands at 94 with roughly three quarters of that sum representing English teaching assistants based in Madrid, Cantabria and Valencia. Research grantees represented programs and disciplines as far afield as music performance, business, education, immigration, literature, and journalism. The cohort of historians, however, was by far the largest. In addition to the usual orientation sessions, the Commission organized a reception at the Instituto Internacional with members of the governing board and representatives from the U.S. Embassy, including Chargé d’Affaires Arnold Chacon. The opportunity to meet other grantees and exchange information regarding their projects and personal agendas for the coming year was perhaps the most rewarding aspect of the entire experience. As a whole, the group demonstrated a strong degree of camaraderie. Indeed, I have strong reason to believe that a couch surfing network will materialize thanks to the leadership of several fellow grantees.

During orientation, a group of us spent an afternoon in the Museo Nacional Centro de Arte Reina Sofía, named after the sitting queen consort, Sofía de Grecia. Home to a collection of works dating from the mid-nineteenth century to the present, by artists like Salvador Dalí and Joan Miro, the Reina Sofía is perhaps best known as the controversial repository of Pablo Picasso’s much promoted Guernica shown here. Painted to commemorate the bombing of small Basque town by the German Condor Legion at the start of the Spanish Civil War, repeated calls for the showing of the work in the Basque Country have been denied.

It had been more than five years since I was last in the Reina Sofía. A building expansion by French architect Jean Nouvel offered something completely new and also a source of consternation for anyone desiring that staircases lead towards logical destinations (you’ll just have to see for yourself). In the photo, pay special attention to the reflection of the street below on the roof awning overlooking the Atocha train station. It’s impossible to tell, but the awning is actually bright red. The facade of the former monastery which houses the museum's main collection is visible to the left.

Friday marked the end of orientation. I have since moved into a room managed by Mary Paz, the host mother in whose home I spent roughly four weeks last summer, in the eastern area of Chamberí. Between her two apartments in the same building there will be six students (including myself) beginning next Tuesday. The dinner table in the downstairs apartment is now full of people in addition to the usual spread of food that I remember from last year.