Ta-Nehisi Coates
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| Mosaic mural in St Anthony of Padua Made with over 850,000 pieces over, inaugurated in 1996 The result of two years of quiet artisanal work by a secular missionary |
Urkiola Natural Park
Visiting Urkiola was not part of my Basque Country
tour itinerary, it happened on the spur of the moment. My guides, Iñaki and his wife Ana, upon
meeting me at the airport, asked if I’d like to have a quick lunch and go up to
the mountain near where they used to live.
Of course, I said yes, since I’m always ready for the unexpected, a different
adventure.
What makes Urkiola unique is the geography itself. In these mountains, nature has carved caves,
crevices and chasms, giving rise to karstified landscapes that are home to a
rich biodiversity. The rugged terrain is home to 137 animal species and 700
different plants and trees. Rupicolous
birds, such as Egyptian vultures, peregrine falcons and griffon vultures, soar
through the skies of Urkiola, while in the depths of its caves, bats find safety.
The park’s main meeting point is San Antonio de Padua,
aka Santuario de Urkiola. It is visited by hundreds of pilgrims every year. On
the outside, near the entrance of the sanctuary, is a rare stone called ‘Tximistarri’
(lightning). For a long time it was
thought to be a meteorite but it isn’t. A
legend invites single people to go around it seven (some say three) times
clockwise, to help them find a partner (if the turns are made counter-clockwise,
expect the opposite outcome).
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| Vineyard next to the Trieste Airport Where I was waiting for my train to Venice |
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| Shaking the vines violently, this machine picked four rows in twenty minutes I was told grapes picked that way are for wines of far lesser quality |
The Sanctuary of Urkiola (or St Anthony of Padua) sits on the Urmuga dividing line that naturally splits the area from west to east. Water that runs off one side of the sanctuary’s roof flows towards the Mediterranean watershed, while water that runs off the other side is destined for the Cantabrian Sea. Urkiola also marks the geographical center of the Basque Country, a great place to start this new journey.
Located in the heart of the Urkiola Natural Park, the sanctuary
is surrounded by a lush forest of birch, beech and ash. Many hiking trails and pilgrimages start or
end here. A Stations of the Cross meanders through the park and leads to three
large crosses overlooking the Durangaldea limestone mountains and its highest
peak the Anboto. A marvelous view.
The first stone of this temple was laid on June 13,
1899, on the day of the Feast of Saint Anthony of Padua, but there is evidence
that in the 10th century there was already a hermitage occupying
this significant place. St Anthony of Padua was known for his undying love and
devotion to the poor and the sick. History
recalls that Saint Anthony passed through Urkiola on his way to Compostela or
perhaps while travelling to his hometown of Lisbon. Here, he spent a night in
the humble pilgrims' hospital and prayed before the image of Saint Anthony, to
whom he professed such devotion that he adopted his name when he entered the
Franciscan order.
There has been three major rebuilds of the sanctuary up
to 1933. I found it a bit curious and
disorienting when I first entered that sacred space. What is normally at the back of a church was
at the front and vice versa. The main
altar is by the entrance instead of the back of the church, for example. A decision was made to never finish the
original larger design of the temple.
This created a disproportion between the enormous construction of the
unfinished naves and the small bell tower at its front.
The sanctuary has been entrusted to the Basque
Diocesan since 1970. That’s when it was decided to not finish the temple. Reasons
that supported this decision were: The completion of the great basilica would
involve a lot of effort. The cost of maintaining it would be very burdensome.
The existing space, well-conditioned, was sufficient. The religious sensitivity
that springs from the Second Vatican Council runs along the paths of
authenticity and simplicity. The greatest glory of God is not in the stones or monuments,
but in the service to the living, to the men and women of our historical
time.
In many temples there
is a ‘Via Crucis’ (Stations of the Cross). Normally it consists of 14
stations but here, it has 15 of them, one more than usual, showing that on the
third day he rose again and is among us until the end of time. For this reason,
the Via Crucis of St Anthony of Padua contains one more station, the one
corresponding to the Resurrection, the last station.
Behind the main altar (at the front of the church
instead of the back) is the most amazing mosaic mural I have ever seen. The theme of the mosaic is very different for a place of devotion, no
angels, cherubs, saints, virgin Mary, or god included. Instead, it represents
an allegory of the cross turned into a tree that goes through the four seasons
of the year. It is the course of man through his own four seasons and the
flowering of life. It is a reminder as
well that trees are extremely important to the Basque Culture.
A mindboggling 850,000 mosaic pieces were used to
create this 1,830 sqft (170 sqm) masterpiece.
A white tree-cross represents Jesus’ open arms. It is surrounded by the four seasons. The red part in the center below represents
an explosion (the Basque conflict of 1959-2011, sometimes referred to as Europe’s
longest war for independence).
A white and luminous
‘Tree-Cross’ emerges upwards from the empty and cold winter of bare
branches. In spring life is reborn and turns green again, to reach summer where
everything is exuberant, light and greenery. Autumn, with its falling leaves of
brown and ochre, brings us back to the icy winter, beginning a new year, a new
cycle, a new life, given by the Lord of time and history.
From a small pamphlet you can purchase at the sanctuary, it reads: ‘The mystery of Jesus Christ, dead and resurrected, is captured in the mosaic. In its white lines the cross with open and extended arms appears. It is a dynamic cross that hints at the resurrection and ascension of the Lord. It is a Christ, who comes to life on the cross and ascends to the top. The cross of Christ is the new tree of new life. On the tree of the cross we were saved and liberated. That tree-cross is presented to us in the mural according to the four seasons of the year. The tree-cross starts in the naked and cold winter, without branches or leaves. In the spring it resurrects back to life and greens. In summer it is all green, full of flowers and fruits. In autumn it takes on different shades and colors, which will make it get rid of its leaves, to return to winter, uniting the two bluish tones at the base, starting a new year, a new sky, a new life. Jesus, on the tree-cross, is the lord of time and history. With it we humans live our life cycles, until, buried in the winter of death, we can share the joy of resurrection in the exuberant summer life of heaven. Oh cross, faithful, tree unique in nobility. Never has the forest given a better tribute in leaf, flower and fruit. Look at the tree of the cross, where the salvation of the world was nailed. Come worship him.’
The design is by the priest-artist D. José Maria
Muñoz. It is the work of the secular missionary Peli Romarategui. It is the
result of two years of quiet, artisanal work.
It was inaugurated in 1996.
In the center, at the bottom of the large mosaic is a
mostly reddish, stained glass window. It portrays the explosion of a bomb or
hand grenade, which spreads its embers throughout its surroundings. The stained
glass window captures the memory of the horror of the war. It commemorates the
deads of the hard battles of the civil war. When sunlight penetrates this stained glass window, an
impressive atmosphere of contemplation and interiorization is created inside
the temple, very common on summer afternoons. It is the work of
the Cañada family, glassmakers from Bilbao.
Hard to see on this picture (washed out), there is
also a dove of peace at the very top of the wall.
The sanctuary is full of beautiful stainglass with
various themes. There is one at the
entrance that represents the silhouette of the sanctuary within nature and
surrounded by various paths. There is a
series of four each representing a different element of nature: air, water,
fire, earth. There is a series of 24
that represent plants: ash, maple, water mint, mallow, acacia, buckthorn,
plantain, marsh marigold, beech, holly, wood anemone, violet, white birch,
blueberry, gorse, oak, chestnut, ferns, honeysuckle, elm, elderberry, European
ivy, wild rose, and poppy.
The theme of this sanctuary is much more aligned with
nature than any I have ever seen. I
absolutely loved it.
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| Belltower of St Anthony of Padua Seen from entrance |
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| Front yard of St Anthony of Padua It was never finished or expanded creating this inner courtyard |
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| St Anthony of Padua - very small belltower compared to sanctuary's size Urkiola Natural Park |
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| Three crosses in Urkiola Natural Park They mark the end of the Stations of the Cross |
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| Limestone Anboto Peak in the Durangaldea Mountains Where pre-Christian Goddess Mari lives in a cave |
Mari
‘The Basque language is what remains of the ancient language in western Europe before the Indo-European invasions. It is the only native language which has been able to overcome the incoming invasions and their cultural influence for the last 3,000 year. The Basques have shown a great ability to incorporate that influence without losing their cultural identity. In fact, they are a remarkable and exceptional case in the history of the European politics and culture. Without any doubt, their traditions come directly from the Neolithic Age. Many cultural features of ancient Europe (the religion of the Goddess, the use of the Moon calendar, the matrilineal kinship and the responsibility of women in the agriculture) survived until the beginning of the 20th century (...). The native legal system did not give men preference over women.’
Marija Gimbutas, The living Goddesses.
According to several legends, the pre-Christian Basque
Goddess Mari (aka The Lady of Anboto or The Basque Mother Earth) lives in a
cave in the slopes of Mount Anboto (4,363 feet - 1330m) as a protector of environment
and administrator of justice. When
clouds appear around Anboto it is said that it is because Mari has returned to
her home-cave on the mountain.
In the pre-Christian religion of the Basques, there
wasn’t a strict hierarchy of beings, no Zeus or Odin who ruled over the rest of
the gods. There were many wild spirits, such as the basajaunak (lord of the forest),
the lamiak (siren), and the jentilak (giant). And there were more powerful
beings, including Sugaar (male counterpart to Mari) and the vague sky-god
Ortzi. However, Mari, as the Basque conceptualization of Mother Earth is the
most revered figure in Basque mythology and folklore.
Mari lives underground where she and her consort
Sugaar meet every Friday (the night of the Akelarre or witch-meeting) to
conceive the storms that will bring fertility, or sometimes disaster, to the
land and the people. She jumps from one mountain dwelling to another by flying
across the sky like a sickle of fire, a peal of thunder announcing her arrival.
Mari is served by a court of sorginak (witches), and sustains
herself by taking that which is denied. Whenever anyone denies having
something, she takes the part that was denied. That is, if I have ten apples
but I only tell you I have six, Mari will take the extra four. She thus
sustains herself with ‘ezagaz eta baiagaz,’ denial and affirmation (that
is, on falsehood).
Mari is unusual as a powerful supernatural being. If
we take the gods of Greece or Scandinavia as examples, they often meddle in
human affairs, often trying to impose their will on the humans that surround
them. Mari doesn’t. She doesn’t have a distinct will or plan. She just is. She
causes storms and good weather by her mere presence, but she isn’t directing
those events. They happen simply because she is.
Mari is the main character of Basque mythology, having
the nature of a deity, unlike other creatures who share the same spiritual
environment. Mari is often represented as a woman dressed in red. She is also
seen as a woman of fire, a woman-tree, and as a thunderbolt. Mari is associated
with various forces of nature, including thunder and wind.
In Basque mythology, Mari stands out as one of the
most enigmatic and revered deities. As the central figure in Basque pagan
beliefs, Mari embodies a complex blend of nature, power, and mystery. Her
influence extends across various aspects of life and nature, making her a
pivotal figure in the spiritual and cultural landscape of the Basque Country.
Despite the dominance of Christianity and modern
secularism, she remains a potent symbol of Basque identity and heritage. Her
presence endures in various facets of modern life, from festivals and rituals
to artistic expressions and cultural celebrations. Despite Christian influences, Mari is still
venerated by some Basque people, sometimes syncretized with the Virgin Mary,
illustrating her enduring cultural significance.
Candelabra Trees
Meandering through a foggy forest filled with ancient
beech trees, pruned to grow larger branches for charcoal production for forges,
blast furnaces, bakeries, and to make boxes and barrels, I feel a resourceful
history in each tree. The charcoal
obtained from pollarding has been the main fuel used to develop the steelworks
and shipbuilding industries that had driven the Basque economy, since the 15th
century.
Those trees have been pollarded and now that they are
no longer pruned, they look like majestic moss covered candelabra, their gigantic
branches reaching up towards the sky like candlesticks instead of growing out
to the side. This technique completely
died out in the 1960’s and studies show that without continued pollarding,
these trees will die in the next 75 years – their branches now
disproportionately too long and heavy, breaking easily, exposing the center of
the trunk to rot and leading to the death of the trees.
The initial pruning in the pollarding process was
traditionally carried out on a tree when it was around twenty years old or some
ten feet (3m) high, to prevent cattle reaching and eating the shoots emerging
after the tree had been cut. Four or
five branches emerged from the cut on a pollard tree, and these were allowed to
sprout for some 15 years until they had attained an approximate diameter of one
foot (30cm), the maximum threshold to enable them to be cut easily with an axe.
The tree was pruned every 8-10 years or so, more
frequently if fuel needs increased. This practice enabled charcoal makers to
obtain resources from the same tree for centuries.
However, it was not merely the tree’s timber that was
used. The leaves were also used as fertilizer
or animal fodder; its fruit was used as food for humans or animals; even its
bark was used to make shoes and colorants, thanks to the tannin content.
The tree most commonly used for pollarding was the oak
tree, thanks to its heating coefficient and the proximity of this species to
production centers. By the 19th century, however, Basque oak forests
had been decimated due to the expansion of agriculture, the iron and steel
industry as well as shipbuilding.
When oak resources were depleted, pollarding was
carried out on beech trees. Chestnut trees, poplars and alder trees were also
used. Instead of clearcutting like we do
today, the trees were pruned to preserve the trees and maintain the integrity
of the forest across generations.
The trees have since grown with short trunks compared to their dramatically long limbs that shoot outward like arms from nearly every angle, making for a very interesting landscape to photograph or hike through. The pollarding process has therefore transformed the appearance of the Basque Country’s forests.
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| Old pollarded beech trees called 'candelabra' Providing extra wood for coal, this technique stopped 60 years ago |
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| More pollarded beech trees Urkiola Natural Park |
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