Postcard from Malaga, Spain: Discovering a church’s “changing tower”

Holy banner of the Virgin Mary paying a call on Santuario de la Victoria

Judging from the silvered coach transporting the banner of the Virgin Mary on a traffic-snarling journey through the streets of Malaga to visit some of city’s other prominent figures of Mary – of which there are many, all elegantly attired and crowned – the banner must be highly regarded by the supporting brotherhood. A team of well-groomed oxen pulled her ahead of a fleet of flatbed tented trailers bearing a host of traditionally costumed followers, refueling themselves periodically from kegs of beer or wine.

We caught up with the procession after its visit to Santuario de la Victoria. The basilica dedicated to Saint Mary of Victory stands on the site of the encampment of King Ferdinand II of Aragon (1452-1516) when he laid siege to recapture Malaga from the Moors in 1487. The original church built soon after was replaced by a grander edifice completed in 1700.

What makes this church one of my favorites in Spain is the most spectacular chamber we almost missed. Up high behind the altar, accessed by a stairway tucked away behind doors off to the side of the altar, is what is referred to as a camarin torre, a changing tower. I am still unsure what that means, but inside a beautifully carved Virgin and Child are held aloft under a most ornate snowy white and gold dome.

The basilica might have risen to be my favorite anywhere if we had been allowed into the crypt down below. Inside are the sculptured tombs of the Counts of Buenavista, accompanied by a host of carved skeletons. Alas, the crypt was closed for restoration, perhaps completed by now.

Including a few final remaining shots of other Malaga churches and Marias in this post as well.

Postcard from Sevilla, Spain: The house that made Mudejar-Renaissance mashups fashionable

When the governor of Andalusia, Pedro Enriguez de Quinones (1435-1492) began construction of his palace, most of the building expertise in the neighborhood was provided by Mudejar craftsmen.

A two-year grand tour of the Holy Land and Italy by his son, Fadrique Enríquez de Rivera (1476 – 1539), brought Renaissance influences into the home but not at the expense of Mudejar architectural details and azulejos. More than 100 different tile designs from the 1530s by the Pulido brothers color the interiors and its multiple courtyards. The first marques of Tarifa, Fadrique set a trend for mixing these styles among the wealthy in Sevilla, and that influence is reflected in a multitude of house museums now open to the public.

In 1521, Fadrique also established the Semana Santa tradition of a Lenten procession he was exposed to in Jerusalem, the Holy Way of the Cross. The route of La Via Crucis began in his chapel and proceeded 1,321 paces to a pillar just outside the city walls. The number represents the purported number of steps Jesus tread from the House of Pontius Pilate in Jerusalem to the crucifixion awaiting him. Possibly this association is what led Sevillanos to refer to the home as the Casa de Pilatos.

Casa de Pilatos was made a national monument in 1931, but it remains the residence of the family of the Duke of Medinaceli, who retain portions as their private quarters.

I feel guilty including the portrait of “The Bearded Woman” by the famous Joseph de la Ribera, except it does jump off the wall at you. Instead of trying to explain the painting or my inclusion of it, I offer a translation of Ribera’s inscription on it. This is provided by WTF Art History (great blog title):

Look, a great miracle of nature. Magdalena Ventura from the town of Accumulus in Samnium, in the vulgar tongue Abruzzo in the Kingdom of Naples, aged 52 and what is unusual is when she was in her 37th year she began to go through puberty and thus a full growth of beard appeared such that it seems rather that of a bearded gentleman than a woman who had previously lost three sons whom she had borne to her husband, Felici de Amici, whom you see next to her. Joseph de Ribera, a Spaniard, marked by the cross of Christ, a second Apelles of his own time, by order of Duke Ferdinand II of Alcalá, Viceroy at Naples, depicted in a marvelously lifelike way. 17th February 1631.

Postcard from Sevilla, Spain: The most celebrated mother in Spain

My childhood memory might be as hazy as the incense clouds at midnight mass, but I think the head covering of a rather homely statue of the Virgin Mary at Star of the Sea church was a humble blue cloak.

In Spain, things are different. La Virgen generally wears richly embroidered gowns with an elaborate silver or gold crown perched upon her head. And she is mesmerizingly beautiful.

In Adalusia, she appears everywhere (see La Virgen tiles of the streets of Seville here). In Seville, one stunning representation of Mary per church is rarely enough. Although Holy Week theoretically revolves around the story of Jesus’ last days before his crucifixion and resurrection from the dead, the candlelit floats bearing Mary through the streets are the stars.

The most cherished of these is La Macarena, or La Virgen de la Esperanza (above). The 17th-century carved wooden figure resides on the altar of her Basilica in the Macarena neighborhood in Seville. When she emerges at midnight on Good Friday, the assembled faithful gasp and cry, with some scrambling to touch her cloak. She is paraded through the streets for 12 hours, with candles lit, according to Margaret Galitzin, to prevent her from seeing her son’s suffering on the float preceding her.

The wooden representation of Our Lady of Sorrows with her dramatic glass tears generally is attributed to Pedro Roldan (1624-1699). She received numerous makeovers through the years, particularly after a not-very-pious drunk hurled a bottle at her resulting in a “bruise.” Legend claims no cosmetic alterations could erase the damage. According to Galitzin:

When the man who committed this terrible offense against the Mother of God became sober, he saw the bruise and repented for his crime. For his penance, he resolved to walk before the statue each Holy Week with chains on his feet and carrying a cross to expiate his sin. After his death, his descendants continued this practice. To this day, it is said, a family member continues this act.

In addition to her elegant attire and shining crown, La Macarena wears several emerald floral brooches. The jewels were a gift from one of Seville’s most famous matadors, Jose Gomez Ortega (1895-1920), Joselito. A Canonical Coronation in 1913 added these precious stones to the garments of La Virgen.

You might have noticed the year of Joselito’s death and realized it seems premature. His faithful tribute failed to spare him from a fatal goring 99 years ago.

Yet La Virgen went into mourning. She wore widow-black robes for a month following his death – the only time she has shed her embroidered fashions. La Macarena remains the patron of bullfighters.

The photographs collaged here are regal representations of La Virgen from numerous churches in Seville.

 

Belated Mother’s Day wishes to all.