In the history of modern architecture, perhaps no one has made as much of an impact as Antonio Gaudi. The fact that many would like to believe that the word “gaudy” was a contribution of this expressive architect, bears testimony to the popularity of this maverick, even beyond the shores of his native country.

While his admirers swear by his name, his styles have evoked fierce criticism and a bit of Orwellian wrath. Saying that Gaudi's architectural style is bold, amounts to saying that the Arctic is cold, or that Pavarotti is a tenor. But it is not just boldness that stood out in his work, as much as his style, blending art – sometimes bizarre art, with architecture.

Whereas his art drew inspiration from nature, his uncompromising architectural style had a social objective. Yet, whether it is the awe-inspiring Sagrada Familia, the grotesque scull and bone catenation of Casa Batllo’, the serpentine patterns of the Park Guell or the relative sanity of the imposing Casa Calvet, none can dispute the drama created by an exuberant architect, who, ironically, abhorred personal publicity. 

Immanuel Kant says “amidst apparent chaos, nature has built-in a secret to bring this universe to a serene order”. This is probably the mantra which is humming in the ears of holistic minded architects. Art demands less from artisans. The surrealism of a Dali, the quirks of a Van Gogh or the impressionism of a Monet or a Cezanne, all have their place in art, much as the clutter of energy sapping images of some modern art.

But the yardsticks of architectural excellence are more importunate. Not that it would beleaguer him, but Gaudi would never fit Kant’s bill, if only for accentuating his statements over utility and harmony. The philosophy of the Church, to create awe-inspiring houses of god, obviously influenced Gaudi, an avowed believer. But, one gets the impression that Gaudi pushed this axiom beyond the envelope with his concept of the Sagrada Familia.

The audacity of its design is an argument for messy vivaciousness over obvious harmony. Nevertheless, the convoluted design of this gloriously exaggerated Catalonian masterpiece, amalgamating Gothic and Baroque styles with a Moorish touch, is in a class by itself. Like icing on the cake, the indistinguishable character is stamped on the building with a plastic and operose detailing, particularly the façades, show-casing the diverse art of his region.

Working closely with sculptors, metal workers and engineers, Gaudi evolved a new style. In another of his masterpieces, the Casa Batllo, he again trades purpose for character, by planting posts in front of windows, inducing a clash of elements. If he is making a huge statement with this effort, his critics might be forgiven for arguing that it belongs more to the realm of art than architecture.

But when perpetuated in history and viewed through the mist of posterity, function is irrelevant and the awe generated by the building is all-important, sometimes even for the wrong reasons.

It is just as well that there are vocal critics – their voice of dissent ebbing against the passion of the admirers of this prodigy, if only to give a balance to his larger-than-life image. Future generations are bound to continue the inconclusive debates on the merits and de-merits of the recondite genius of an enigma which was no less puzzling in life as in death– when he succumbed to injuries sustained on being knocked down by a tram, refusing to be shifted out of an ill-equipped hospital.

Let us salute a genius who carried his beliefs even beyond life. He lies buried in The Sagrada Familia – a project that he left unfinished, but you can feel his spirit pervading his imposing creation, teasing the dazed, vertigo stricken visitors and inspiring the frenzied craftsmen to finish work on a national treasure.