August 17, 2017

I first visited Barcelona in December 1992. By then my boss and eventual partner had long taken over the reigns of the business from his parents, who had started it during the Second World War. For decades they had bought books in Europe for resale to American libraries, making a couple of buying trips there each year; in the early years his parents would make the trips and then Peter took over. They visited many of the same places year after year but were always looking for new sources. After I had been with the firm for a few years I started making the trips as well, and we would throw in new places just to see if they'd be worthwhile. So when planning my winter trip that year, we decided why not try Barcelona?

It was pretty much love at first sight. After spending more than a week in cold, wet, dark northern Europe, Barcelona was warm and clear and bright. When I stepped off the airport bus onto Placa de Catalunya, the Saturday evening crowds on the Ramblas were exuberant, packed with pedestrians, street entertainers, vendors and con men.

I was planning to visit booksellers on Monday and Tuesday, but I had Sunday off and decided to make the most of it. So I walked endlessly, visited the medieval quarter and its Gothic cathedral, went to an exhibition of German Expressionist painting in Gaudi's Casa Batllo, and then took a taxi up to Park Guell. When the taxi driver asked me if I was interested in Gaudi and the other Art Nouveau architects and I said very much so, he offered to drive me around to several important buildings on the way up to Park Guell, including Domenech i Montaner's Hospital de Sant Pau. The enthusiasm, knowledge and pride he expressed as we drove past buildings by Gaudi, Puig i Cadafalch, Domenech and others were unforgettable. And Park Guell just blew me away.

Monday morning didn’t start out according to plan. I arrived at the first place I had marked in the guidebook, supposed to open at 9:30, but there was no sign of anyone for the next 25 minutes so I walked a mile to the second one I had marked. Same deal. And then a third. I was stranded, and puzzled. By now it was getting close to 11:30. Getting a bit desperate I turned around and went back to the first place and boom! a gold mine. Piles of terrific material at reasonable prices including a massive set from the 1870s on medieval Catalan architecture with large mounted albumen photographs. I knew immediately that I'd be coming back.

And indeed Barcelona became a superb source for us. I ended up visiting close to twenty times. Wonderful books year after year, and some of my favorite experiences as a bookseller. 19th century books with mounted photographs, Art Nouveau material galore, modernist periodicals and serials about the Spanish Civil War, Surrealist stuff, illustrated books, and tons of foreign (meaning other European) material. Two of my best days ever were spent unpacking the library of the aforementioned Puig i Cadafalch with the bookseller who had acquired the library from his family, in a remote basement warehouse. He would make up prices on the spot and I'd say yes or no. The treasures that we unpacked, and the ones that I could afford to buy, were spectacular. Among the many books I got that day was the best trade catalogue we ever owned, a giant folio chromolithographic masterpiece advertising art nouveau ceramic tiles.

I got to know the Ramblas well. The booksellers with whom I worked were either in the university neighborhood near Placa de Catalunya, or in the medieval quarter a short walk down the Ramblas. I almost always stayed in the area around Placa de Catalunya, so my nighttime walks and dinners often took me up and down the Ramblas as well. I'm usually put off by touristy areas, but for some reason I love it there. I know there are all sorts of petty thieves and con artists, but the street performers are ubiquitous, there's a festive feeling in the air, and I get the sense that a lot of the older folks sitting on the benches are locals. The Ramblas that's so indelibly etched in my mind is filled with people joyously celebrating life.