The Island that César built
A vast expanse of wasteland, rugged and hostile, filled with colours of the earth—black, grey, red, brown, with a smattering of green—creates the textural kaleidoscope called Timanfaya National Park.
A protected natural area located on the island of Lanzarote in the Canary Islands, Spain is as unique as they come; the fruit of a series of volcanic eruptions, most notably one that lasted six years (1730-36).
The best view of this gorgeous landscape is from an all-glass restaurant, El Diablo. It overlooks the volcano, the craters, and the unending mountains of lava and ash. That’s not all there is. The ground you walk on, has so much heat trapped inside that you will find employees barbecuing food without using fire. Elsewhere, water is dumped in holes causing fountains of steam to shoot up. As you take in the contrast of cold winds lashing the area while heat rises from below, spare
a thought for the artist who is responsible for making your visit. In Lanzarote, nary a day goes by when you don’t hear the name César Manrique. The artist, sculptor, and the island’s favourite son, is responsible for making the island tourist friendly by creating spaces like the restaurant, for visitors to better admire the natural beauty.
It is because of Manrique that the island’s houses are a uniform white, standing out in stunning contrast against the volcanic soil. He didn’t want Lanzarote’s skyline ruined by high-rises and ugly construction; he promoted ecology friendly architecture. No house has more than two storeys, the colours of the doors and windows are that of the island (blue for the sea, green for the interiors).
The artist’s former home, now the headquarters of the César Manrique Foundation, is where he spent 20 years of his life. It is
a museum of his life and work, and a homage to the harmony that can be achieved between architecture and nature. The house meanders around five volcanic bubbles, connected by tunnels, which he had turned into rooms. Full-sized windows look out at the desolate landscape almost framing it in the afternoon sun.
Like his house, much of Manrique’s avant garde work was shaped by the island’s natural beauty. Take the Mirador del Rio, for instance. Actually, it is
a coffee shop situated at a viewpoint that looks out to another Canarian island, La Graciosa. He built the shop in his trademark circular shape into the rock, which camouflages it from the outside. It features a spiral white staircase leading up to the coffee shop, which like El Diablo has open windows offering a view of La Graciosa. From the viewing terrace, the panorama is unobstructed.
Manrique worked with the Spanish government to create artistic spaces that highlighted Lanzarote’s volcanic beauty and give visitors a place to rest and better engage with them at spots like Jameos del Agua. A jameo is a hole caused by an explosion of trapped gases or the falling collapse of a lava tube. Lanzarote is filled with many of these. One of them stands out from the rest—a jameo designed to welcome tourists. There’s a swimming pool, an underground bar, a hidden performance space, restaurants, a café and two stone dance floors. Partying on volcanic floors is as outre an experience as experiences go.
Bang in the middle of Lanzarote is la Casa-Museo del Campesino. It is Manrique’s tribute to the farmers of the volcanic island who made the arid land habitable through agriculure. Stroll along and you’ll come across
a farmer’s traditional home with a tool room where tools and agricultural equipment are stored. The winery, the vineyard, mulberry trees and palm trees make it a surreal vision—the house blends into the volcanic countryside to become one. It is also a live museum where artisans make the famous Canarian sauce, mojo picón, and a traditional pella de gofio, typical of Canarian gastronomy.
Manrique collaborated with the artist Jesús Soto to make El Monumento a la Fecundidad (Fertility monument) by assembling old water tanks from ships, iron and concrete objects. It’s a good leading off point to another Manrique creation, Jardín de Cactus, an old landfill of cacti he had collected during his travels abroad. Designed like an amphitheatre, with basalt stone laid out on terraces, it showcases a variety of cacti framed against a quaint windmill. In Lanzarote, the best way to explore is to follow in Manrique’s footsteps.