Scribbler in Seville

October is a hectic month here in Seville. From Noche en Blanco, when museums and galleries stay open late, and tours themed around various topics  wend their way through the streets – tours aimed specifically at residents, I must point out, when they are encouraged to reclaim their own streets – to a tourism conference during the past week (which I attended), a tapas route and competition (of which I am a judge), and the second Open House Sevilla last weekend, 20-22 October.

This concept was started in London in 1992 by Victoria Thornton, with the aim of inspiring the public about the benefit of great design. I remember visiting amazing private residences in north London back in the early 1990s; today 250,000 people visit 800 buildings in the UK capital over a weekend every year.

Now in 35 cities around the world, Open House arrived in Seville last year, as well as fellow Andalucian city Malaga (17-19 November this year), plus Madrid, Valencina and Barcelona. Organised by architects – in Seville’s case the event’s architectural director is Honorio Aguilar – it allows residents of the city (in theory, others could come too; however all visits are conducted in Spanish, so ideally you need to have a good level) to see inside buildings around the city.  In some cases, the building’s own architect conducts the tour; previously, Architecture Week offered visits in Seville, but on a small smaller scale.

Many buildings cannot normally be accessed, but residents are probably familiar with them from outside, perhaps even passing them on a daily basis. In addition, some palaces and other monuments have an admission fee, but can be visited for free for the three days. You may have noticed the albero-yellow sticker on the floor next to certain buildings’ entrances over the weekend.

This year, the programme included more than 50 buildings, such as Palacio San Telmo, the seat of the President of the Andalucian Regional Government (Junta de Andalucia), Hospital de las Cinco Llagas (today, the Andalucian Parliament) and other public buildings, Palacio de las Dueñas, historic gems such as defensive towers and churches, several hotels and theatres, a few private residences, important contemporary office buildings, a number of architecture studios, and a few guided walking routes.

It was a wonderful and wildly varied smorgasbord, which needed a military level of planning in order to create a schedule which fitted in all one’s preferences. Many of these visits needed to be reserved in advance, and as always with these events, the places filled up within minutes.

After some anxious moments checking the weather forecast, we were incredibly lucky; on Thursday we had an almighty storm, with several trees down around the city (one visit, in Maria Luisa Park, was cancelled due to storm damage and securing the park for visitors). On Friday morning, the sun shone as if nothing had happened the previous day. On Sunday afternoon, again the showers and high winds came, but by then most open houses had said farewell to their last visitors.

So which visits did I do? I fitted in five in total, which may not sound like much, but I had other commitments – next year, I will set more time aside and make sure my dance card is 100% full.

My first appointment was on Friday morning, at the Consulado de Portugal (Portuguese Consulate). This beautiful neo-baroque building is one of my favourites in Seville, with its delicious, tiled curved roof and white façade with carved stone. The consulate, built as the Pabellón (pavilion) of Spain’s neighbour for the 1929 Ibero-American Exposition, is located in the north-western corner of the Prado de San Sebastian, close to the main entrance to Maria Luisa Park and opposite the southern façade of the Tobacco Factory.

The architect leading the visit, Evaristo Martínez, took us through the entrance hall, where the painted artesonado (coffered) wooden ceiling bears the names and coats of arms of main Portuguese towns, district, and overseas colonies. These included India, by which presumably Goa was meant. We didn’t see the rooms leading off this hall.

Then we were taken upstairs – there is a curved staircase at either lateral of the small building, lined with photos from the Expo, and leading to a landing with a piano, paintings and furniture.

The pièce de resistance was the Salon de Honor, a grand circular chamber, with an ornate central cupola which has murals themed around four continents to represent Portugal’s (former) empire: Africa, American, Asia and Europe. This room also has exquisite wall coverings and a spectacular wood inlay floor.

The Canciller (Consul) introduced a video in Portuguese (with Spanish subtitles) about the building of the pavilion, in 1928. The Expo was a perfect way for Portugal’s leading artistic, commercial, agricultural and industrial  companies to introduce their services and products, and Portugal’s financial investment in its pavilion was considerable. The pavilion had a preferential location, by the entrance, and was a magnificent and ambitious project designed to build national pride (exactly as the Expo was for Spain, which had recently lost its last colonies).

The consulate we see today is only a small part of what was originally built – this was the arts section, the frontispiece, with an exquisite garden in front, and areas behind for corporate exhibitions, as well as three patios, adorned with statues (Vasco de Gama) and ceramic tiles to showcase skilled Portuguese artisans. As often happens with these events, most of the pavilion was disassembled afterwards; some artworks are now in the City Museum of Portugal. The Asian Portuguese colony of Macao had a small pavilion opposite.

Next up was the Torre de la Plata–Muralla de las Atarazanas Almohades, or Silver Tower-Almohad Fortified Walls. We’re going back 800 years to the Almohads, Moorish (Islamic North African) rulers of Seville, who extended the Romans’ defensive wall around the city, adding various towers. You’ve heard of the Torre del Oro (Golden Tower), the iconic octagonal riverside tower? Well this little-known tower is a similar construction, with its crenelated upper part and small arched windows, located only a few metres away. It would have been considered the third-most important such structure when built, after the Giralda and Torre del Oro.

Two architects, Manuel Romero (General Director of Heritage for the City Council) and José Antonio Montaño, showed us around, explaining about the tower’s construction and subsequent modifications, including a water tank discovered on the ground floor. The tower’s location was at the confluence of the Guadalquivir river and the smaller Arroyo Tagarete. When Fernando III reconquered the city in 1248, he rechristened the tower Torre de la Victoria, although the original name was ultimately preferred.

From the 16th century, houses were built next to the tower, using its walls, and it was also used for residential purposes.  Until the 1980s, this historic structure was not in good repair, but its fortunes changed when it was partly restored for the 1992 Expo (see the influence these two events had on the city?). Most curiously, today the tower is partly inside another building, a government office, which is why is it so rarely open to the public.

Inside the tower, there are two visitable floors, with spectacular vaulted ceilings, the lower of which leads out to the muralla. This 12th-century fortified wall, built by the Almohads, would have connected the tower to the larger Torre del Oro, forming an important defensive line. Most of these ancient walls were knocked down in 1821 to modernise the city, although you can still see remains.

You can see truncated windows at floor level inside the tower, with corresponding arches outside, where another floor was added by the Christians.

The tower is located in Calle Santander, and you can see it from that street, as well as from the Real Casa de la Moneda (the former Royal Mint) from which it is separated by a large car park. This latter eyesore is scheduled to be turned into a green space, after a warning from ICOMOS, part of  UNESCO, in May 2022, since this is considered a conservation area. From the other side, towards the river, the tower and walls can also be seen from the Helvetia Seguros building (see below), through an arch in the façade.

My third visit was one which did not need prior booking: the Camara de Comercio (Chamber of Commerce), in Plaza de la Contratación. With an hour to so to kill, I checked out which buildings had open visits near me, and this fit the bill. They were offering visits all morning, with ad-hoc timing – once they had enough people to make up a group, they took them inside.

As ever, I have passed this building, on a quiet short-cut between the Alcazar and Puerta Jerez, countless times, without giving it a second glance.

Inside we saw an extraordinary architectural statement which pushes the boundaries of the discipline, and yet dates from the 1980s.

Built as a neo-classical French-style mansion in the late 18^th century for the Vazquéz Parladé family, over three floors with servants’ quarters upstairs, plus a roof terrace, this had a typical arcaded patio, as well as a grand staircase. What immediately struck me were the colours – instead of the usual white and albero inside, the palette is of pale pastel colours: green, blue and pink. The effect was elegant and sophisticated, yet somehow soothing.

In the 1980s, it was converted into offices by the late architect Antonio Gonzalez Cordón – which could have resulted in an anodyne, dark, cramped space. Instead, the montera (glass skylight) over the patio was removed, and a higher, larger one was added covering the entire building. A gallery was added on the second floor, keeping the railings from the roof terrace, with ventanucos – small windows (I had to ask our guide what this word meant, explaining that I’d never heard it before, which made the other visitors chuckle).

The space is flooded with light with a gap between the tops of the original walls and the ceiling. What is most remarkable is that the architect left sections of the original brick wall, as well as the holes where the beams would have sat. It gives the impressions of being half-built, or like an art installation.

This is a type of deconstruction that tells you about the history of the building, and shows how it was converted into its new state. There is also a column with the names of all those who worked on the project – a highly unusual and delightfully democratic touch.

My last visit on Friday was to Edificio Helvetia Seguros. A long, modern brick building on Paseo Colon, opposite the Torre del Oro (and in front of the Torre de Plata, so effectively between the two), this was designed by Pritzker Prize-winning  architect, Rafael Moneo, in 1987. The building  was designed to blend in rather than stand out, respecting the architectural icon opposite, and reflecting the ancient defensive Muralla in front of which it sits.

Two bronze reliefs on the building’s façade, flanking the entrance, depict Seville in 1883, ships on the river and Palacio San Telmo, the former navigators’ training college; the building faces the river, looking towards the Americas.

The rear balcony offers direct views of the Muralla and Torre de la Plata, as do the rear windows of the building, while the river, Triana, and of course the Torre del Oro can be seen looking from the front. You can walk through an arch from the pavement to the rear balcony with its circular columns, at the far end of which more archaeological remains can be seen.

Inside, the interior is unremarkable, with long office spaces stretching out either side a central axis, and a polychromatic marble floor in a striking graphic triangular design. The youthful but not particularly well-informed volunteers explained that the three floors look so similar that those working there can get confused about which floor they’re on. The exception to this is a sculpture of a Roman head, spotted at the end of a corridor.

On Sunday morning, I went to see the Banco de España, on Plaza San Francisco. Our guide was the director, Fernando de Arteaga. For security reasons, no photos were allowed, so these were provided to me.

The Banco de España’s Seville offices opened in 1975 in a house in calle Estrella, soon extending to Calle Pajaritos. In the 1920s, it was decided that a specialy commissioned building was needed.

This classical building, with square Hellenic motif detailing, was designed Antonio Illanes del Rio, and opened late in 1928, in time for the Expo 1929. Illanes del Rio also built the Stadium del Expo, now the Betis stadium. It has a stunning stained glass ceiling, or montera, in vivid shades of turquoise, purple, cerulean blue, and gold. It is rather yellowy-brown, less pristine than seen in these photos.

Part of its function, as the Spanish central bank overseeing Spain’s banking system and managing its currency, is (still) to place and monitor bank notes and coins in circulation, so security vans regularly arrive at this building with their invaluable cargo. Obviously these days, especially since the pandemic, many more people use contactless forms of payments, such as bank card, phones and watches, as well as Bizum. You can also take fake coins and notes there, and change damaged notes.

Open House is an amazing way to get inside a city, seeing behind façades which are normally off-limits, or hard to visit with very limited opening hours. While it is tricky to secure the reserved space only appointments, the effort is well worth it. This is a superb initiative for learning about Seville’s history and architecture through buildings that are so familiar, and form an essential part of the cityscape. Plus it’s also a great showcase for the architects themselves, whom you can meet personally.