| I left
Madrid from Atocha Station last October, heading south. I was impressed
by Rafael Moneo's renovation to the huge old station, having only
ever thought of his work as a bit heavy on the brick. The old main
concourse had become a bustling wintergarden and the train platforms
were relocated to the edge. People arriving from the regions to the
south for their days work were knocking back their cafe con leches
and thumbing through El Pais. I was regretting leaving, having just
discovered a fine city. One weekend hadn't really been enough, though
it had felt like five days. I sat on the platform eating my breakfast,
waiting for the red cercanias train to come in from the north.
All was well.
Now I've been watching the same station on TV
as it becomes a centre of tragedy and mourning. One train exploded
in three places while it was coming into the platform, sending people
running and jumping anywhere they could. Another train exploded
500 metres away.
Buildings seem more silent at times like these,
their fixed expressions not intended for these events and not responding
to the chaos and grief around them. Locals have erected makeshift
shrines of flags, flowers and candles around the station. Brick
walls in the new entrance cylinder were slowly blackening from the
soot of candles burning at their feet.
Rafael Moneo said last year of Atocha Station,
"the role of the building as a pure utilitarian element, as
an urban tool, prevails." Sadly, no more.
Moneo's
RIBA Gold Medal Lecture
Moneo's
Harvard GDS homepage
|
Atocha
Station, Madrid