WHAT WILL YOUR LEGACY BE?

I recently had the privilege to travel to Barcelona, Spain. I had the chance to catch a terrific Flamenco show at Tarantos – a wonderful intimate space that fits only 150 people. Earlier in the day I spent some considerable time admiring the work of Antoni Gaudi – the famous architect from Catalonia, who lived from 1852 to 1926.

Some folks believe that the word “gaudy” came from Gaudi’s style. A quick google search of “gaudy” led to the definition “extravagantly bright or showy, typically so as to be tasteless” and synonyms include “garish, lurid, overbright, glaring, harsh, violent, showy, glittering, brassy and ostentatious.” My humble amateur opinion of his work can agree with the inclusion of words such as “bright” and “showy” but certainly not “tasteless” or “violent.” A further search online suggests that the spelling of the architect’s name and the word “gaudy” are just a coincidence, including arguably some overlap of meaning with his style—but that the word “gaudy” has 16th-century origins.

The architect’s life masterpiece is Basilica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Familia (Basilica and Expiatory Church of the Holy Family) or as I've known it to be called in short form, Sagrada Familia (Sacred Family), a large Roman Catholic church in Barcelona. He began work on it in 1883, and continued for 43 years until his death in 1926. Construction began in 1882 under architect Francisco de Paula del Villar – and when Gaudi took over in 1883, he changed and transformed everything to his style.

I remember in the late 90s, going to Barcelona to visit my best friend, and visiting Sagrada Familia. I didn’t make it inside, but I did sit in front of it for 2 hours—just staring at it. The intricate detail is mesmerizing. I could have spent longer (but we had plans)—it was as if I was meditating – going over every line and curve, and always finding something new, and a new way to see the story being told. At the time (I believe this was 1998), the church was under construction, which scaffolding and cranes in multiple places.

Fast-forward to 2018. The church is still under construction. I paid to go inside this time, which is also a real treat – with some of the most beautiful stained-glass windows I’ve ever seen. I learned that the plan for the church is to complete construction for a grand re-opening in 2026, to commemorate the 100th anniversary of Gaudi’s death. 100 years later. Not even close. I wonder if he had a sense that he might not see his finished product?

Gaudi died at age 73—arguably a full life for 1926. He did not die from natural causes – it was a accident—he was struck by a tram on June 7, 1926, and lost consciousness. He died 3 days later. Had he lived, would he have been able to drive the construction forward enough for it to be completed before a hypothetical, more natural death in later years? We’ll never know. But I believe he had to know, in his mind, that there had to be the possibility that he wouldn’t see the final product. Yet he worked on.

What was his motivation? I like to believe that at the heart of an artist or musician is the authentic desire to share something new/interesting/transformative/beautiful with the world, in hopes of making the world a better or more interesting place. Sometimes the audience is small and sometimes the audience is large. Sometimes an artist is a “one-hit wonder” and sometimes their catalogue of work is admired over decades.

Sagrada Familia is a forever project. This building—a special place of worship—is meant to be here forever. I believe Gaudi very much had that viewpoint. This was his lifetime masterpiece. And whether he was going to see a finished product or not, he knew this was going to live far beyond his lifetime. He had a gift—and we get to benefit from that gift, as will the generations that come after us. Because this is forever.

As I think about my personal and professional life, I continue to ask myself: “what will my legacy be?” Not all of us have the unique talent and circumstances to build a large, beautiful church in a major city with hundreds of thousands of annual visitors—but I do believe everyone can find a way to make positive impacts both large and small, and leave the world in a better place than the one we lived in. I’m hopeful that through my small part in the bigger operation of the Arsht Center that I’m contributing to making Miami a better place to live, but in so many ways, I’m still trying to figure out what my legacy will be. What is yours?