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Posts tagged ‘Marbella’

Apr 2

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Semana Santa – Easter Spanish Style

Here in the UK, you know when Easter is coming because, from around January time, they start stocking mini eggs, cream eggs and progressively greater and greater stocks of foil covered novelty eggs, bunnies and other such creatures until the day itself, after which time the egg prices are cut savagely before picnic and gardening gear replaces its space on the shelves. This is all very well, but when celebrated through an egg count alone, Easter becomes merely an excuse to take a few days off work, and an attempted resistance to the chocolate influx all around. By contrast, in Spain, and in particular in the region of Andalucia, the festival of Easter, and in particular this week – Holy Week (“Semana Santa”) – brings with it a uniquely special feeling of celebration, family and spirituality.  I am not trying to say that every household around the world should celebrate the Christian story when the Easter festival comes along. Nonetheless, there is something deeply emotional, integral and raw about the outward manifestation of the Catholic celebrations of the Easter story in Spain, and I can’t help but wish that these celebrations were mirrored elsewhere.

After a decade of attending Spain’s lavish Easter celebrations, the Spanish Semana Santa festivities have become emblematic, to my mind, of Easter time. The celebrations largely comprise long processions of brotherhoods (“hermandades”) from a town’s local churches, each of whom carry “pasos” or “tronos” –  lifelike wood or plaster sculptures of individual scenes of the events that happened between Jesus’ arrest and his burial – throughout the town. The tronos, which are usually huge, golden, elaborately carved constructions topped with candles aplenty, are then physically carried on the necks of costaleros. The tronos are accompanied by nazareños – penitents who, most strikingly of all, are usually to be found wearing conical hats with covered faces called “capirotes”, and by brass and military bands.  What with the moving emotional accompaniment of the bands, and the vast numbers of nazareños and costaleros making up the parade, carrying candles, often walking on bare feet to demonstrate penitence and faith, and the pasos, glowing in candlelight, swaying from side to side to the rhythm of the marching costaleros, these parades make for stunning viewing. And what is perhaps even more stunning, is the way in which these parades bring communities together – hundreds of families, couples, tourists and visitors old and young alike crowd the streets of Spain to see these parades – and involved in the parades themselves are people of all ages. How beautiful to see these processions taken so seriously, especially by teenagers – in the UK they’d most likely be looting the shops for Easter Eggs.

I leave you, without further ado, with a selection of my photos from the parades I have seen over the years, largely in Marbella. For the most spectacular parades of all, Seville is the place to go, but I have not yet had that fortune. Nevertheless, the processions of Semana Santa have remained a constant inspiration to me, and this week, I will feature a number of my art works which have taken their inspiration directly from these stunning parades. Hasta lugeo.

 

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2005-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work or artwork/ photographs, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Feb 8

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Marbella – Hidden wrinkles beneath the botox

Far beyond the ritzy media archetype of Marbella, with its fake-tanned, label-cluttered, Ferrari-filled Puerto Banus, and its marble clad town centre, complete with grand avenues and mature parks, high street shops and tourist information centres, is a town which resembles none of the glitzy, cosmopolitan manifestations of the media-managed Marbella. It’s a town which is emblematic of historical, culture-rich Spain, where the locals, many forced from their homes by rising house prices, or others packed into small dwellings with three generations of their families, continue living the life they have always lived, while all around them their town of Marbella has enjoyed its ascendency into the darling of the jet set. This is the Marbella which must endure the relentless hardship of the fishing industry to survive, locals who must live far out in the less than salubrious suburbs in order to stay in the town. Yet within these communities is a fun-loving, strong, proud spirit. Rather than being snubbed by a WAG in designer sunglasses, here you are greeted with a pleasant “Buenos Dias”, the locals still sit around outside their homes chatting at all hours, and families flock to the cheaper restaurants whose food is authentic and unpretentious.

As a part-time resident of Marbella for the last ten years, I have become disenfranchised with the town’s superficial identity. I loathe Puerto Banus, the media face of the town, whose geographical beauty is eclipsed by the pretentious tourists, begging for attention with their pursed glossy lips and frozen foreheads. I progressively find myself straying more and more into the Spanish communities, where the essence of Spain is still alive, where Marbella could be any other town in Andalucia, where the smell of garlic pervades the air and flamenco’s anguished cry wafts across the airwaves.

One such place is Cable Beach – it’s East out of Marbella, in the opposite direction from the Golden Mile, where the port is industrial rather than given over to pleasure, and fishermen still work, their cottages still intact having escaped demolition to make way for a hotel, and whose beach, so often deserted, is a wide, beautiful expanse of golden sand. In the photos which follow, I hoped to capture the beauty of this quieter, more authentic side of Marbella, and also include images of the outer suburbs, as well as the town in the aftermath of a recent storm – all views of the hidden, authentic town which thrives still in the shadows of the media glare.

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2005-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Feb 3

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Why you should celebrate your Half Birthday

I like to think/ convince myself/others that, on the occasions when I exhibit too many childish traits for a fully-grown adult, my behaviour can be justified by virtue of my needs as an artist. After all, it was in the realm of childhood that the majority of us escaped into a world of make-believe, when our heads were filled with original, uncorrupted ideas, and when we would fully accept a fantastical story which, when imported into the adult world, would be derided as fanciful or shelved as being surreal and not-in-the-real-world. Having said all of this, I am not so childlike in my demands that, like the Mad Hatter in Alice’s Wonderland, I require an indulgent daily celebration of an “unbirthday”. What I do, however, celebrate every year is… my Half Birthday!

It’s a peculiarity to which those who know me have become accustomed, patiently tolerating the slightly eccentric annual demand I make of them in insisting that my half birthday is marked. I think it stems from my childhood when my parents, ever the diplomats, would give my sister and me a small present when the other was celebrating their birthday. In this way it meant that the one of us who was not celebrating did not feel left out. By coincidence, my sister’s birthday falls almost 6 months from mine, and consequently, long after my parents gave up on catering for our whims, I took it upon myself to celebrate my half birthday on an annual basis.

Norm's Half Birthday - Norm looks for the other half of his card (2012 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown)

In practice no one actually gives me anything for my half birthday, and most people (including me) forget all about it. But on the occasion I do remember, I still use the date, unashamedly, as an excuse for out-of-the-blue celebrations, emotional blackmail and the like. I always remember my first year at university when my new friends, obliging my strange request, made me birthday cards which they then cut in half (I never did get the second half). This was followed by a massive half birthday party in my masters year, never, sadly to be repeated (spilt wine ruined my carpets so I quickly concluded celebrating my half birthday should be an altogether more sedate affair).

With the uni years well behind me, I really am now too old for all of this. Nevertheless, trying never hurt anyone, and since yesterday was my half birthday, I successfully persuaded my parents to join me in embarking on an impromptu celebration which included an extravagant afternoon tea out at Marbella’s very established Goyo tearooms, and dinner out at Zozoi – the darling of the Spanish expats – a fantastic French-Belgian brasserie in the heart of Marbella’s old town. And while I thought it may be a little demanding of me to insist on a cake (or half a cake) as well, judging by this amazing handbag cake I spotted in a shop window earlier, Marbella is clearly the place to pick up something special. I may try that one tomorrow…

Amazing Louis Vuitton inspired handbag cake in a shop window in Marbella

So why should you celebrate your half birthday? Well one birthday a year is pretty lousy when you consider there are 364 other days to get through. And after all, the Queen gets two birthdays doesn’t she. To me, it seems pretty reasonable to have a little celebration every six months – after all, being half a year older is just as much of a feat in my opinion. There is of course the slight issue that it will be yet a further reminder that you are getting older (I spotted a rather substantial grey hair the other day – nightmare) but all the more reasons to get yourself merry and insist your friends and family do the same. And if they complain, remind them that you could always start celebrating your quarter birthdays too. Or monthly. Now there’s a thought…

Feb 2

10 Comments

Cappuccino: No longer just froth and espresso

Cappuccino is no longer just a coffee. The café chain which brands itself after the popular italian coffee has rewritten the meaning of this favoured frothy drink. For in Cappuccino Grand Café, the cappuccinos are just the tip of the iceberg. The café group, which is now a predominant restaurant brand across the island of Mallorca, with branches also in Marbella and Valencia, as well as a handful in Jeddah and Beirut, is the ultimate in café chic. It’s exudes sophistication from every bubble of its creamy coffee froth. Its waiters are dressed to impress – with bow ties and black armbands, they are like butlers from a bygone era. Everyone is beautiful, from the staff to the customers who almost become more glamorous upon entering as they allow a wash of Cappuccino couture to penetrate and tantalise all over, as almond latte replaces a standard coffee, and cocktails and wine bubbles aplenty become the new still or sparkling. In the background, a carefully selected soundtrack resonates, wafting the space with Buddah-barish chill and soulfulness, while earlier coffee stops are accompanied by the timeless polyphony of jazz. And to top it off, Cappuccino has managed, almost across the board, to secure itself the very best of restaurant locations, so that in Marbella and Mallorca, you can savour a tranquil seaside view, while in Palma de Mallorca, locations in luxurious former palaces have been made the norm (as opposed to the Norm – let us not confuse the two).

Norms at the Cappuccino Grand Cafe in Marbella (pen on paper 2012 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown)

So why am I going on an all out campaign to promote this amazing café chain? Well it’s certainly not because they are paying me in free almond lattes (if only – although if the CEO of el Grupo Cappuccino happens to be reading this, please feel free to oblige). Rather, Cappuccino fully deserves its place in my search of all things indulgent and beautiful, because as a place to go for lunch, coffee, drinks or dinner, it is sophisticated, beautiful and ultimately satisfying.

Cappuccino first came to my attention last summer when a new branch opened in Marbella. Situated bang on the paseo maritimo next to the Mediterranean, in a quiet and very exclusive spot (Lord Sugar lives close by, as do those lucky few frequenting the opulent Marbella Club Hotel and other establishments on the Golden Mile), it benefits from superb views and is sheltered from any adverse weather conditions by a canopy of mushroomed pine trees and lush garden surrounds which lead up to the nearest luxury hotel stood behind it. When I went there for the first time, having stumbled upon it during a long walk out of Marbella’s centre, I fell in love. The music, the sunset, the staff and the food which, compared to many Marbella restaurants is very reasonably priced, were spellbinding. There I felt like a pop star, indulged, relaxed, contented.

Cappuccino, Marbella

Cappuccino's smooth almond latte

By coincidence, I had a trip booked to Mallorca a few weeks later and there, since it is the island from where the chain originally springs, Cappuccino has marked its claim to various scenic spots all over the island. Such was the beauty of their location that we spent nearly every day indulging in at least one meal in a Cappuccino – for example on the port front of the stunning natural harbour of Port d’Andratx, or in a central square in the charming medieval town of Valldemossa, just round the corner from the Monastery which laid host to one Chopin and his lover. In Palma de Mallorca, there are four Cappuccinos and a number of take away branches and, mercifully, barely a Starbucks in sight (I say barely as there blatantly is a Starbucks somewhere but I have become conversant in the habit of shunning them in cultural locations). These are perhaps some of the most opulent Cappuccinos, set in former palaces with quaint patio gardens and candlelit tables set amongst vast baroque colonnades. On Palma’s vast paseo maritimo, you can sup on the luxurious almond latte in full view of the gothic cathedral, while on Palma’s answer to Bond Street – the Passeig Borne – you can people watch to your heart’s content.

CD Volume 5 of Cappuccino's own sensational soundtrack

And what to do to savour Cappuccino’s magic once you get home? Well the atmospheric soundtrack playing in every café is happily available to purchase – I have all five volumes of the Cappuccino CDs and play them on an almost continuous repeat. The first four make for marvellous coffee music – tinkling jazz and re-imaginings of popular melodies – while the fifth volume is the ultimate in Mediterranean chill.

I shall rapture no further, but leave you instead with a selection of snaps I have taken at the various Cappuccinos in Marbella and Mallorca. In the meantime, Cappuccinos website can be found here, including details of all the CDs.

Vive le Cappuccino!

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2005-2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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Feb 1

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Spanish Season 2012: Out of the frost, into the fire.

As the great winter freeze finally began to set in, we at The Daily Norm swiftly decided that the time had come to withdraw from our London offices, and to retreat instead to our little Spanish outpost. And so it was that with a little luck and a lot of expense (Easyjet – once termed a “low cost airline” has almost bankrupted me with its “low cost” flight to Malaga) we have arrived on the Costa del Sol, travelling almost as far south as one can go, while remaining in the confines of our dear, albeit economically shaken, Europe.

Yesterday it was around 2 degrees and lightly snowing when I heaved my suitcase (full of Norms…who tend to be heavy) off the Gatwick Express and boarded a flight due south. When I alighted the flight the other end, things weren’t much better. There was a decided chill to the air in the deserted, white-washed streets of Andalucía, and as a result my winter overcoat remained firmly wrapped about my person. And inside it was even worse – My family and I have found ourselves needing to gather desperately around little electric heaters wrapped in the contents of our suitcases – we look like those motley crowds who gather round vertical heaters on the windy platforms in large echoey French train stations with the result that you feel like a piece of bread toasted on one side – warm and cold all at once. The problem with these old Spanish houses (our home is in Marbella’s casco antiguo – postcard perfect, but otherwise falling apart, damp and consistently calling out for repair and a lot of TLC) is that they are built for the summer. Tiled or stone floors repel the heat while small windows keep the interiors cool. It’s as though their makers presupposed that the Costa del Sol would always be sunny. But it often isn’t, and in the winter, a few hours of daily sun do not compensate for a long night of sleeping inside a refrigerator.

Between seasons: Norm on a Spanish beach in the winter (pen on paper, 2012 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown)

What a wonderful surprise then when this morning we awoke to beautiful sunshine while not only lifted our spirits but the surrounding temperatures too. As a result we found our bodies quickly warmed from 2 degrees London, through to 10 degrees Spanish night-time to a positively summery 24 degrees basking in the sunshine this lunchtime. Like all things which are scarce in life, the sunshine is never more glorious, never greater appreciated than when, back at home, you know that your friends and compatriots are suffering in the cold. It’s as though you’ve made a lucky escape and are somehow cheating your pre-destined position in life. From London to Spain this has been like leaping from the freeze straight into the fire.

Needless to say, it’s now evening in Spain, and the cold has once again descended as the electric heaters have been boosted onto full power. The problem with these temperature extremes is that you really don’t know whether it’s winter or summer, because you fully experience both seasons in a single day. The key appears to be plenty of layers and a willingness to dress and undress depending on where the sun is, where the clouds are, and how much you can cheat the winter and steal the sun. Of course it also depends on plenty of heating during the evening, and as our electricity system is about as antiquated as our house, the whole lot will probably fuse any minute. With this in mind, I shall finish this post, leaving you with a selection of my photos from the day. Hasta mañana.

Jan 3

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January blues? Dream of the summer

There is only one way to get through these cold winter days, bleak and grey as it was in London today. Either book a summer holiday, or dream of one. Or better still, create summer in your home. Christmas is over, New Year is done. What else do we have to look forward to? With this rather depressing thought in mind, I went about stimulating each of my senses with the promise of a forthcoming 2012 summer.

Beloved Cappuccino... this one in Mallorca's Port d'Andratx

Ears: on the CD player, I played the albums of Cappuccino, the ultimate in Buddah-bar cool, emanating from the chic Mallorcan coffee chain, its music reminding me of long evenings spent under the stars in the Marbella version of the cafe chain, cicadas chirping and the warm mediterranean waves lapping upon the sandy shore as I drank wine and ate almond tart. The second and third senses crying out for satisfaction are smell and taste, and what could be better now than to put away the spicy Christmas chutneys and dried up cold meats, and open a good old Spanish cook book. Entering my third day of a Spanish festival of cooking, today it was Andalucian spiced stuffed aubergines, patatas bravas and a good rioja, the summer smells of cooking garlic and a spiced tomato bravas sauce pervading the cold winter air of my flat.

Spanish cooking: Trout stuffed with serrano ham, with chorizo chickpeas and andaluz spinach

Fourthly and all importantly: sight. It’s my summery paintings which get an airing now. Marbella – the town’s long sandy beach, lined with cafes and unusual art deco architecture, the town supported by the stunning backcloth of its Sierra landscape, its buzzing Paseo Martimo reflected into a wide, sparkling expanse of mediterranean sea. On the beach, Henry Moore inspired sculptures soak up the warm rays of an all-encompassing joyful sun, banishing thoughts of winter and reminding all concerned of the joie de vivre of summer.

 

El Faro de Marbella (with Sunbathing Henry Moore's) (oil on canvas, 2010 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown)

Over the Mediterranean, my mind is racing to Tuscany, and my painting Tuscany Wharf captures the essence of that place I love. Hills rolling elegantly into one another, lush green rolling landscapes broken up by perfectly lined up grape vines and bales of hay, while from beyond the windy road interspersed within the valleys, the glorious towers of San Gimignano emerge, a medieval spectacle, one tower after another, climbing in an apparent ascendancy to heaven itself. And as if to remind me in my daydream of summer of the bleak reality of the English landscape around me, a slice of northern industrial England cuts through Tuscany’s rolling hills, cypress trees replaced with chimneys, hills with terraces, and roses with barbed wire, the polluting plumes emitted by factory chimneys managing to escape, pouring out into the previously clear turquoise Tuscan sky.

Tuscany Wharf (15km to San Gimignano) (oil on canvas, 2010 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown)

Back to Spain for the evening, and as the sun sets over a peachy bellini-tinted sea, a postcard floats in the air recollecting memories of a Spanish summer holiday spent indulging in thirst-quenching sangria, ice cold San Miguel, and an unctuous paella, while the evenings are spent whisked away by the rhythmic hypnosis of a flamenco dancer’s wailing cries, or the swish, ballerina movement of the Toreador’s vivid red cape.

Souvenir of Spain (oil on canvas, 2010 © Nicholas de Lacy-Brown)

Ahh to dream of the Summer. Check out more of my paintings at my main site www.delacy-brown.com. In the meantime, I’m off to dream of summer…and look for cheap holidays online!

Postscript: Today WordPress included my blog in Freshly Pressed! Thank you so much WordPress and for all those who have previously and subsequently supported my blog and posted comments. Your support means so much. Please come back for more artistic jinks at The Daily Norm!

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2005-2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Dec 31

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2011: My year in photos

It’s the last day of 2011, and for my second review of the year that’s almost behind us, I’ve looked back on all the photos I’ve taken this year and selected a few of my favourites. In this way, I can share with you my year. It’s been a pretty good year for me in some ways – trips to Paris, Mallorca, Madrid and Marbella as well as Liverpool and Cornwall in England. All made for some inspirational scenes which begged to be captured on my camera. But so to does home continue to inspire, the autumnal glow of nearby Clapham Common and Richmond Park offering stimulating riches with which the lens so easily engages. So please enjoy the photos I have set out and in the meantime I trust that all the readers of The Daily Norm will enjoy a superb New Year’s Eve and have a very prosperous 2012. My little online paper has only been running a short while, but I am truly appreciative of all the support garnered so far. Please continue to drop in on my Norm-world in 2012 and help to spread all things artistic, aesthetic and beautiful around the globe. Happy New Year!

© Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm, 2005-2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of the material, whether written work, photography or artwork, included within The Daily Norm without express and written permission from The Daily Norm’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Nicholas de Lacy-Brown and The Daily Norm with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Nov 21

The rain in Spain… and other Spanish truisms

There is a common vernacular, made famous no doubt by the mellifluous tones of Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady, that the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain. I beg to disagree. The rain in Spain in fact falls on the coast, over the mountains, outside in the garden and sometimes (because the houses here really aren’t built for the rain), inside. This past weekend,

Rain flowing down the roads in Marbella yesterday

staying on the Costa del “Sol” has been like living under a power shower as the skies bucketed down in a continuous barrage of water. The Spanish tourism industry claim that the Costa del Sol enjoys an average of 300 days of sunshine per year but I doubt that average reflects current trends. Every time I come out to Spain other than in July or August, it rains, torrentially. The houses, with cool interiors and flat roofs are built for the sun, and feel damp and miserable when it’s wet outside. The road drainage is similarly built to cope with occasional showers. Yesterday my mother and I were stranded in a café as rivers of rainwater gushed down the streets, turning the roads into rivers, leaving all those who had not thought to bring wellington boots on holiday (?!) unable to cross. There is a similarly common vernacular in Spain, that all the English flood into Spain to escape “rainy” England. The tables are surely turning, no doubt as global warming takes hold, and in 20 years don’t be surprised to find a barrage of Spanish owned second homes on Britain’s south coast, as the Spanish flee the newly named “Costa del Lluvia” in search of sun! Read more

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