Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia
One of the most iconic buildings in València opened its doors to me at last! Yes, I finally got to see the inside of the Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia, or at least some parts of it. When Ewa and I decided to get tickets to a piano concert, I wasn’t really paying attention as to where it would be held. We jumped at the chance because it was to be Chopin’s music we’d be listening to and since we’re both Polish, it was only right that we should go and pay tribute to one of Poland’s best known exports. As the concert date approached and I started to actually pay attention, I realized it was going to be held in that fish-like structure that so captivates all who see it. And best yet, it’s technically within walking distance of the house.
The weather has not improved since yesterday’s walk and the winds have picked up. I may think this place doesn’t know what winter is like but occasionally I get reminded that even here it is possible to be cold, if only for a few days. I am not complaining except to note that pictures come out better against a blue sky rather than a grey one. </end rant>
The Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia sits just at the front end of la Ciutat de les Arts i les Ciències when coming from Ciutat Vella. It’s only a little further than where I got to yesterday so I knew that I could walk there no problem. I did, however, ask Ewa to go at a much more leisurely pace than what she’s used to … she is taller than me and I often end up behind her trying to catch up. We set off with lots of time to spare and I got to basically retrace my footsteps. Unfortunately this does not mean I got more pictures of what I missed yesterday–I find I don’t get very inspired when everything has taken on a patina of November in Vancouver (sorry Vancouver, you know you’re awfully moody and grey in November).
Before long, we surfaced from the old riverbed of Túria to face the imposing tail of the Palau. I call it the “tail” because from this vantage point I believe it to be so. The “head” of the fish, at least in my eyes, is at the other end because it’s raised up high and just looks more head-like. This end has a couple of protrusions that looks like fins to further advance the fish metaphor. It is impossible to not be awed but the size of this “fish” … and, as we approached, I could feel my excitement rising.
The main entrance is at this level but we were told to go to the side to a bank of elevators where we had to wait our turn since only a couple of people at a time were allowed to go up. When our turn came we were told to hit number 11. As in the 11th floor? That seemed a little weird but when we got inside the elevators, we were faced with only two choices: 8 and 11. I had not expected to be going up quite so high. Trying not to panic too much (I’m not a fan of external lifts), I couldn’t help but enjoy the view out, even in the late grey of the afternoon. Upon reaching the top we found ourselves on a huge outdoor terrace offering even more spectacular (if cloudy) views. It was a little disconcerting to see such large palm trees growing so high up but this whole building defines logic already, there was no point being that surprised.
The entrance to the hall was from this terrace and led to the horizontal middle of the space. We bought tickets at the back mainly because we had this notion that if we’re to be in a relatively small space with a bunch of other humans during a pandemic, it’s best to have them all, if not most, facing away from you. This strategy has worked well for us throughout our various cultural activities. What we were not prepared for, however, was the sheer height of the music hall in Palau de les Arts Reina Sofia and our seats were in the penultimate row! Talk about the nosebleeds. It was a beautiful space nonetheless and the acoustics promised to be good.
The stage looked pretty bare with just a grand piano in the middle. When Grigory Sokolov appeared he looked a little like The Penguin from the Batman franchise or maybe Grandpa from the Munsters … Ewa and I both had to stifle a chuckle upon seeing him. He did not look at the audience, he did not wave or acknowledge us at all; he just sat down at the piano and performed magic because anyone who plays Chopin like that must be a magician. It was wonderful. After playing four polonaises and taking a short break (still not even looking in our direction), he then proceeded to play ten Rachmaninoff preludes and I was right, the acoustics were fabulous. When he was done, it looked like he was going to just run off the stage again and he did! But then he shyly came back and accepted the very appreciative crowd’s applause. He even came back for an encore which was delightful. It’s almost as if right there, at the end, he felt OK with us sharing this experience with him. I hate to admit I had no idea who he was; when I bought the tickets it really didn’t matter to me who was playing and where, I just wanted to go see live music and if it could be Chopin, all the better. Now, having looked up Mr. Sokolov, I feel even more privileged to have seen one of the finest, if not THE finest living pianist in the world. Take that, Covid!
It was now time to file out of this fantastic venue and so began the tricky process of getting everyone safely down from the 11th floor using a rather small number of elevators. Waiting our turn gave me a chance to get a few more pictures though by now it was dark outside. The building was colourfully lit up, however, as I should have expected, so the wait was anything but boring. I later found out that the Palau is made up of four performance halls: opera, music (the one were in), theatre, and ballet/dance. I think the opera one is the grandest of all and I will endeavour to see something there one of these days. Shows aren’t cheap, especially the larger or prestigious productions, but they aren’t ridiculous either, and there are many inexpensive choices as well. There is something for everyone; when it comes to culture, València knows how to do it well.
