La Catedral de Santa María de la Sede de Sevilla

The largest Gothic church in world and the third largest Christian church after St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome and St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, the Cathedral of Seville is the city’s most important and visible architectural monument. Along with the towers of the Plaza de España to south, it dominates the medieval four story skyline of the city center. Built atop the foundations of a former Islamic mosque dating to the twelfth century, construction on the bulk of the present Christian structure continued throughout the fifteenth century. Although much of the original mosque was demolished during this process, the minaret and courtyard, now the Cathedral’s bell tower and the Patio de los Naranjos, respectively, remained virtually intact. As a final testament to the ages, Roman columns fashioned by the city’s earliest inhabitants were placed in a continuous ring about the building.

Referred to simply as La Giralda, the cathedral’s bell tower is one of the more cherished sights in the city. The elaborate Almohad brickwork from the original mosque remains, although the top of the structure has been crowned by an elaborate renaissance belfry. Visitors to the Cathedral can now climb to the top of La Giralda to see the very finest view in of the city.

Within the Cathedral are housed some of the finest works by the Spanish masters (at least those that were not stolen by the French during the Napoleonic invasion of the early nineteenth century). A large amount of silver work also testifies to Seville’s colonial past and its position as the point of entry for Spanish bullion extracted from mines in the New World. In the northwest corner of the church, the royal banner raised by Fernando III in 1248 above the then mosque resides under glass.

The Cathedral also serves as the final resting place of Christopher Columbus (picture at bottom), at least officially. Although the famous explorer was first buried on the island of Hispaniola, the body was disinterred and taken to Havana in the late eighteenth century. After Spain lost Cuba to the United States in 1898, the remains were taken to Sevilla. The discovery of a casket bearing the name Cristobal Colón in Santo Domingo during the nineteenth century led some to believe that the actual body never made it off the island of Hispaniola. Although DNA testing appears to validate the remains in Sevilla, authorities in the Dominican Republic have never conceded to similar testing.

Stay tuned for a few lighter, less historical, posts in the next few installments.

Sevilla

By way of introduction, I should mention that the city of Seville nowadays prefers to go by its Spanish name, Sevilla (pronounced “say-VEE-yuh”). As far as I can tell, the British modified the name some time ago to get around the confusing double L sound in Spanish and the change worked its way into the English lexicon utilized on the other side of the pond. If you recall the sometimes confusing debate over what to call the home of the 2006 Winter Olympics – Turin in English, and Torino in Italian – you’ll have a good sense of the problem. In any event, the difference is a small one and so I don’t think it too confusing to use Sevilla from this point forward.

Perhaps Seville’s greatest claim to fame rests with its former status as the peninsular link to the Spanish empire in the New World. During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Sevilla held a monopoly on all trade with Spanish colonies, embracing everything from the yearly shipment of gold and silver from the mines of modern Mexico and Peru destined for the royal treasury in Madrid to a number of exotic commodities like sugar, coffee, tobacco, and chocolate. One of the more imposing structures in the city center, the Archivo General de Indias (General Archive of the Indies) serves as an imposing reminder of this legacy.

In the romantic era of the early to mid-nineteenth century, writers and artists cultivated an image of Spain as a timeless place in step with a folkloric portrayal of traditional Andalusian customs. It was during this time that Sevilla gained notoriety as the fictional home of the amorous adventurer Don Juan and the cigar-rolling temptress Carmen. During the middle of the twentieth century, Flamenco and bullfights became central to the international image of Spain and a useful way to draw tourists. When it comes to Flamenco and bullfights, Sevilla fits the bill quite well as the home of numerous tablaos (Flamenco bars) and the Plaza de Toros de La Real Maestranza, Spain’s premier bullfighting ring.

Sevillano culture and the sevillanos themselves posses a number of characteristics that are wholly their own. Andalusia – the southernmost region in Spain of which Sevilla is the capital – is generally known as a land of whitewashed buildings, but this practice is often accented by sevillanos with the addition of yellow paint to adorn important architectural features. A city known for its Holy Week festivities, Sevilla also maintains a popular religiosity that borders more on custom than piety. My first week in my new place witnessed a procession one block over (picture at right).

There is also a distinctive sevillano accent, though I personally find it indecipherable from that of other Andalusian towns. Although sevillanos (and Andalusians generally) abide by the standard Castillian tendency toward lisped Cs before Es and Is, sevillanos prefer to drop the last letter of most words and omit Ds altogether in some cases. For instance, sevillanos pronounce the number 6 (seis) as “SAY-eh” and the word for state (estado) as “es-TAH-oh.” Needless to say, this can be very confusing; an S at the end of a word in Spanish, like English, denotes quantity and indiscriminately stripping letters from a word can change the meaning.

I plan to write more on Sevilla, my new home. As I mentioned in the previous post, I should be able to post updates more regularly now that I’m almost completely situated.

Toledo

I have now been in Seville for a full month. Much of this time was first spent looking for a place to live, establishing myself financially, and dealing with residency hurdles. When this process neared completion, I then had to deal with the sad and sudden death of my former laptop. Thanks to a bit of family teamwork I now have regular access to the internet once again and should be able to post somewhat regularly from here on out (fingers crossed). Before skipping ahead to Seville, I thought my trip to Toledo deserved at least one post.

During my last week in Madrid, I went to Toledo for a day by train in order to visit La Sección Nobleza (Nobility Section) del Archivo Histórico Nacional, or SNAHN. One of the Iberian Peninsula’s oldest cities, Toledo fell to the Moors in 711 and stood as a major frontier stronghold between the Christian kingdoms in the north and Moorish kingdoms to the south during the height of the centuries-long Reconquista (Reconquest). After nearly four centuries under Moorish rule, Alfonso VI captured the city in 1085. For some time thereafter, the city remained an important cultural center, serving as the home of a large Jewish population until the expulsion of the Jews in 1492.

The trip from Madrid takes only thirty minutes from the Puerta de Atocha train station. Although the train station in Toledo is outside of the old city center, the walk into town is only about ten minutes by foot and offers some great views of the city’s medieval walls. I was fortunate to arrive early enough in the morning to catch the glow of the old city on the Tagus River as I crossed the main bridge leading into the heart of town. The SNAHN was housed inside the former palace-residence of the Dukes of Lerma (picture at left), opposite the city’s main gate. Armed with a long list of call numbers, I spent much of the morning buried in documents. However, the archive closes daily at 2:30pm, which left the better part of the afternoon open to exploration. After leaving the archive, I made my way into the heart of the historic city center in order to visit the Cathedral and other points of interest within the city walls. The steep road leading from the main gate to the town square runs along the former Moorish battlements. Along the way numerous souvenir sword shops attest to Toledo’s reputation in the medieval and early modern period as the home of the best steel smiths in Europe. The Cathedral of Toledo (picture at right) figures among the more impressive architectural sights in Spain. By tradition dating to the Visigothic period, the Archbishop of Toledo is also the Primate of Spain, the nation’s highest-ranking Catholic religious figure. Needless to say, the splendor of the cathedral reflects the importance of this office.

Having worked up an appetite between the archive and my trip to the Cathedral, I ducked into a restaurant to eat lunch in full sight of the Alcazar (the Spanish word, derived from Arabic, for fortress). A key component in the layout and organization of every major city dating to the medieval period, the alzacar would often occupy the highest position in the city center. In the case of Toledo, the original alcazar – a structure that dated to the Roman period – was destroyed during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939). Unable to force the surrender of local Francoists entrenched within the building during the early weeks of conflict, Republicans demolished the structure by dynamite destroying several surrounding blocks. The event became an Alamo-like moment for the Nationalist cause. In the aftermath, Franco diverted his army from its sweep toward Madrid, the move often credited with extending the war for another three years, to “reconquer” Toledo. Following the end of the war, Franco had the structure rebuilt using former Republicans as slave labor. In many ways the history of the building serves as a unique chronicle of the history of Spain, including one of its darkest moments.

Technical Difficulties

I hope to post with pictures again soon. I've run into technical difficulties involving both my computer software and camera hardware - a recent MS Windows update is restricting my ability to access the internet and I managed to leave my camera cable in Madrid, but it's in the mail and should arrive soon.