We visited Cristo Redentor today, the massive statue at the top of Corcovado Mountain which serves as a universal landmark for the city. Before we boarded our train to the top we knew that would be heavy cloud cover obscuring our view of the city from the statue’s perch. I, however, did not anticipate such heavy clouds that we would struggle to see even the icon’s head!
This seeming inconvenience actually transformed my experience of the landmark into a more mystical one. Gathered on the two-tiered platform before Cristo’s feet was a mass of people just staring and buzzing in anticipation. The whole scene would go through these dramatic waves based on the clouds above: first near-silence as the statue was hidden completely, then a rise in conversation and preparation (many “Cristo” poses struck), then a culminating cheer as the cover thinned enough to see his face clearly.
What a magical experience! Sharing the cheer with everyone, and making a kind of game out of looking at a fairly straightforward statue, was humorous and rewarding. It seems a fever-dream of the egoistic architect, to have a crowd of people stare for minutes on end just to see your work. This kind of uncontrolled event is a fleeting moment of amazing interaction between the electricly alive people and the more rigid world of architecture.
The lively crowd was of more interest to me than the statue itself.
What a great thing for a place to do to people! This kind of anticipatory spectacle is something I would love to explore in architecture: the hidden icon, the randomly-timed event, these become moments of collective excitement and interaction, curiosity, and wonder. Whether it’s a religious statue shrouded in mist, a faithful geyser, or a giant cuckoo clock (which Troy told me about), dynamic moments of spectacle create powerful moments. Curiousity, anticipation, wonder; it sounds like an architecture that can reignite the magic of childhood, and that would be a beautiful thing.
I also took interest in the “oohs” and “aahs” of the crowd at times. It was interesting to see a crowd of fifty or so people staring upward into the mist, only in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the top of a thirty foot statue. The impact that this statue has on people goes farther than just taking a few pictures and moving on their way. I thought the small chapel at the base is worth mentioning when discussing the impact this spectacle has on the people who come to see it. It sits at the back of the statue inside the base, which is away from most of the crowd. I experienced firsthand the expression on peoples’ faces entering and exiting the small prayer room. They showed a deep feeling and connection, not only to the monument, but to the religion and ideals that it represents. It alone shows the power of awe and emotion that this monument is able to relay onto its spectators. However, one could hear the excitement in the people as the clouds shifted and the face shone through the mist. These people had all come from different backgrounds, different locations, and spoke different languages. The statue united the emotions of a whole people, no matter how similar or different, under one spectacle. I think that is a great part of this giant symbol, and says a lot about how our different cultures and ways can be can be united under design and planning. I think that is what design is, and should be about.