Inarea

The original idea of the Sagrada Familia is lost in the mists of time: the year was 1882 and the architect who had been called in had presented designs in a perfect neo-Gothic style. When he resigned, a year later, Antoni Gaudí took over. Eminent art historians tell us that Gothic architecture reflects a logical discourse: all parts must tend towards final clarity yet be identifiable at the same time. That’s why, in a cathedral, we will always notice the ribbing on the columns. This aspect isn’t so obvious in Gaudí, however: from whichever point you look at it, the Sagrada Familia always seems a bit frothy; even its spires give the impression of being sucked in from below. And yet, something of that two-way correspondence can also be found in this Catalan puzzle. Whoever has entered the basilica has found two familiar companions there: lights and colours. This is simply the effect of the disposition of the volumes resting on each other and thus maintaining the logical coherence of Gothic architecture. We’ve tried to reconstruct the idea of a structure turning into colour through the relationship between a pencil and its lead. But it’s just a prototype: to see the final effect we’re going to have to wait until the basilica is inaugurated in 2026 (following on from its consecration in 2010). Next time you visit Barcelona, bear in mind that the cost of the ticket still goes towards funding this long-awaited inauguration. Name Day: St Prosdocimus

Cesare Lombroso is one of those famous people who have a permanent calling card: the adjective “Lombrosian”. His name was his destiny, with a ring to it which may not be downright sinister, but isn’t particularly cheery either: one just needs to say the word and one immediately thinks of a direct relationship between an individual’s physiognomy and their personality. In Cesare Lombroso’s case, his features were indicative of someone who was going to make criminology his line of study (“Criminal Man”, published in 1876, is the summation of such studies). Low forehead, aquiline nose and arched eyebrows: that is how to measure up this doctor from northern Italy. But in order to portray him, in addition to tape measures, we’ve also chosen an owl which, in ancient Greece, was one of the attributes of Athena. This goddess was wise because, just like a nocturnal animal, she was able to see beyond the night – let’s say, beyond appearances. And, when it comes to adding up, let’s remind Lombrosians everywhere that 2 + 2 = 5 (even English rock band Radiohead made a song with that very title). Name Day: St Leonard

In his film “Roma”, Federico Fellini catapults us among revellers painting the town (Rome) red one evening in the 1970s, amidst songs and plates of carbonara pasta. Now, let’s imagine those same trattorias filling up with delegates who’ve arrived in Rome from all over the world to attend the FAO’s “World Food Conference” in 1974. It was a momentous event that took place during an era that was still ‘hungry’ for “World Days”: the oil crisis and a decrease in the big producers’ agricultural reserves (first and foremost the USA), were among the causes for alarm. One of the results of this conference was the establishment in 1974 of the Committee on World Food Security whose task is to review and follow-up on policies concerning world food security, including production and access to food. For the first time a clear warning was being sent out to that part of the world that could afford to fill Fellini’s trattorias or Ray Kroc’s McDonald’s: that the food problem must be tackled by cultivating broad relationships – over and beyond flowerbeds – and by rediscovering the authentic value of agriculture. Name Day: St Domninus, St Theotimus and Companions, Martyrs

In the 19th century one was wont to address Nature writing it with a capital N. Not out of deference, but in order to sew together a relationship that was extremely multifaceted. Italian poet Giacomo Leopardi, for example, views Nature as a priestess, an austere and severe keeper of time. In an imaginary dialogue written by him, Nature tells a man that he has been a fool to think that the world was made for his benefit; and it is thus no coincidence that he, an Icelander, dies just a few seconds after their dialogue has taken place (owing to unknown causes…). At the same time, though in a more northerly country, another poet was carrying on a different dialogue: “To the solid ground of Nature trusts the Mind that builds for aye…” These words by William Wordsworth were printed on the cover of the first issue of “Nature” on 4 November 1869. It was a declaration of intents. Indeed, we could describe the English people’s relationship with nature as picturesque, a concept most clearly exemplified in the English garden, a quiet match between two players: human artifice and the Mistress of the house. Nowadays we fluctuate between two extremes: from calling Nature by her name, we’ve gone on to be so overly familiar with her that if she could speak, she would say that we’re shouting in her face. At the same time, other buzz words have come to the fore, “Gaia” being merely one of the more commonly used; this word is used to denote a line of thought according to which Mother Nature possesses the means to regenerate herself, in spite of the pollution and global warming caused by us, and the plastic we unload into the sea. We wish journals such as “Nature” the best of luck: today it’s harder than ever to ensure one’s buttons are securely sewn on and that one isn’t going to lose one’s thread amidst the tangled-up strands of science, journalism, science fiction and fake news. The latter is forever lurking, ready to camouflage and pass itself off as the real thing. Name Day: St Charles Borromeo

Laika was the first living being to be launched into space and her adventure on spacecraft Sputnik 2 made an impression on many hearts. First and foremost, alas, on her own: it turns out that she probably died of a heart attack, or as a consequence of shock, a few hours after being launched into low Earth orbit. Laika never actually reached outer space, despite Soviet propaganda to the contrary. However, Laika had much posthumous fortune, especially as far as music is concerned, with compositions dedicated to her by Max Richter, Gorillaz and Arcade Fire, to mention just a few… Also the Americans (symbolically) launched a much-loved dog into space during the Cold War: we’re talking about Snoopy who was the mascot of the Apollo 10 program in 1968. But in actual fact, the USA used to launch primates into space, far less beloved by humans than dogs (after all, few people have monkeys as pets), but much more similar to us. Propaganda is always capable of making things up or embellishing them with great precision. If we look carefully, though, we realise that these ‘made-up’ facts are as translucent as fine face powder. Luckily, however, the memory of these little sacrificial mascot-victims lives on: lovable and intergalactic. Name Day: St Silvia

When this Disney-Pixar animated comedy film was released, the concept of renewable energy was perhaps confined only to a few outposts of academia. But imagination is always the vanguard: in “Monsters, Inc.” there’s no need to import energy and the population don’t get annoyed with energy prices going up for the umpteenth time. The city of Monstropolis is powered thanks to a strange pact between monsters and kids: the former frighten the latter whose screams are harvested to generate volts. In the course of the film, it transpires that children’s laughter is “ten times more potent”. The film takes us back to the origin of the word “monster” that comes from the Latin “monstrum” which, in turn, means an “awesome” or “prodigious” event or creature. And yet, in these modern times of ours we often hear it said that the sleep of reason produces monsters . Now, if we reread this in a non-literal key, we’ll realise that it’s only when reason makes way for imagination that we can measure reality in a different way. At which point: who can be afraid of something awesome in the cupboard? All Souls Day

Whenever we hear someone talking about a Danse Macabre we immediately think of a medieval fresco with the Grim Reaper wielding his scythe. Yet, in Ingmar Bergman’s “The Seventh Seal” those dead people didn’t seem at all sad as they danced with Death… So with this revelling spirit in mind, let’s fly over to Mexico where the “Día de los Muertos” is about to get into full swing. This festivity celebrates everyone: those who were killed, passed away prematurely or died in their mothers’ wombs. Should their souls return to the earth, they’ll be welcomed with yellow and orange flowers strewn over graves and streets, and with a myriad of tiny altars. The Día de los Muertos is a colourful fiesta whose purpose is not to emphasise attachment to life but, rather, the continuity between the here-and-now and the hereafter. After all, the purpose of All Saints Day, which falls almost at the same time in another part of the Christian world, is not to remind us of good practices, but of the impression these people left behind during their passage through life. Which is very vivid indeed. The tape that keeps these different ‘cousins’ bonded together, despite their distant latitudes, isn’t that hard to find. Do you know which country the flower associated with the birth of births, that of December 25th, comes from? The famous Poinsettia is indigenous to… Mexico! Talk about “saying it with flowers”… All Saints Day