Could ‘superblocks’ help Barcelona return to its late-19th-century vision of urban utopia, clearing out the snarled streets so mini neighborhood blocks can literally breathe? The rapidly expanding Catalan city was suffocating within its medieval walls before engineer Ildefons Cerdá came up with his controversial plan to tear them down and build a gridded district called Eixample way back in the 1870s. This orderly block-based approach met with a lot of resistance when it was proposed, yet ultimately became a model for urbanization before the burgeoning density of the industrial era choked it with cars and filled its air with pollution.

The plan was for the population to be spread out equally, with green spaces, schools, markets and other necessary neighborhood functions easily accessible from every block. While it did help make Barcelona healthier at the time, each of those tiny streets has been invaded by too many cars for the city to handle, and apartment blocks have sprouted up where parks used to be. Eixample has just 1.85 meters of green space per inhabitant, compared to Amsterdam’s 87.5, and the air quality and sedentary lifestyle are leading causes of death.

Barcelona’s urban planning committee wants to reverse that with ‘superilles,’ or superblocks. First, traffic would routed to larger roads on the perimeters, with cars, trucks and scooters only allowed within each block if they belong to residents. 186 new miles of cycling lanes throughout the city will encourage biking, and an orthogonal bus network keeps public transit on main thoroughfares. Each superblock would become like its own little city, with its own character.

This new city structure would free up 160 intersections for foot traffic, events, gatherings and other community-based purposes. The process is being conducted through gradual changes utilizing existing infrastructure, starting with nine areas. Sant Martí, a district that already hosts car-free days, will act as one of the main guinea pigs in a series of trial and error experiments the councillors call “tactical urbanism.”

“We have, as a base [for the plan], Cerdá’s Eixample, which was undermined by greed,” says Salvador Rueda, director of Barcelona’s urban ecology agency. “What was green in the plan was slowly overtaken and built on. And then, when cars arrived, they slowly overtook more and more space… We want to reclaim those green spaces and that can only be done through a drastic mobility change.”

A puzzle of layers rather than pieces, each of this spray-painted works takes aesthetic cues from historic Barcelona, deploying them in novel contexts using unexpected materials.

Catalan artist Javier de Riba creates these vibrant works with stencils, one of the original tools of the street artist, bringing them to life so well they could be confused for glass or ceramic tiles.

His target locations vary, but his pieces can sometimes be found on sidewalks or the ramps at skate parks, though the floors of abandoned buildings are a popular pick. Deserted places make it easier to take time with a given work, but also add to the element of surprise when discovered by others.

Some are composed in square frames, though many break borders and some even wrap curve surfaces or sweep across entire floors. Currently, some of his work is on display at the Miscelanea gallery in Barcelona, including a large site-specific installation.

Started in 1882, the Sagrada Família basilica is one of the most famous buildings in the world, despite still remaining unfinished … at least for now. This amazing one-minute animation shows the final steps toward its near-future completion, officially slated for 2026.

Designed by Antoni Gaudí and set in Barcelona, the structure has been in the works for generations, a process continued long after the death of its architect nearly 100 years ago. The animation itself features real aerial helicopter footage enhanced with dynamic digital modelling.

The plan, in fact, is to celebrate its completion on that one-century anniversary of 1926. The project is scheduled to be finished under its new chief architect Jordi Faulí who is following in the plans and footsteps of Gaudí in finalizing this Gothic-inspired masterpiece.

Few places are as incongruously silent as abandoned racetracks, and the Sitges-Terramar Autodromo Nacional near Barcelona, Spain has slumbered in quiescence much longer than most. Built in 1922, Sitges-Terramar’s steeply banked concrete roadway has withstood almost a century of disuse surprisingly well while automobiles and auto racing have evolved exponentially around it.

The Real Roaring Twenties

(image via: WIEN)

Consider a peaceful walk in the Catalonian hinterlands, warmed by golden sunlight and accompanied by delicate birdsong… but the quiet, deserted track at Sitges-Terramar wasn’t always so. For a brief, shining moment, this state-of-the-art auto racetrack was the site of pitched rolling battles between skinny-tired, brass-trimmed Grand Prix racers. Nearly a century has passed since Sitges-Terramar enjoyed its place in the sun yet the track and most of its outbuildings still stand, remarkably complete. How did this come to pass? Fasten your seatbelt, Sherman, we’re going for a ride…

(images via: LeBlogAuto and Peter Morley)

The term “Roaring Twenties” is mainly used to describe the era between World War I and the 1929 Wall Street market crash; a time when technology, stock prices and flappers’ skirts rose to giddy heights. It was also the age of the automobile, especially on modern banked racetracks designed to keep speeding cars firmly grounded as engines (and crowds) blared deafeningly.

(images via: LeBlogAuto and Peter Morley)

The “father” of Sitges-Terramar was Frick Armangue, a local racing hero who, in 1922, founded Autodromo Nacional S.A with the intention of building the country’s finest car and cycle racetrack. Armangue hired Jaume Mestres to design the track and Josep Maria Martino to construct the facilities. Approximately 3.5 million kilograms (7.7 million pounds) of cement was ordered and slowly but surely, the Autòdrom Nacional Sitges Terramar took shape just outside the fishing village of Sitges, roughly 35 km (about 22 miles) from Barcelona.

(image via: Sitges4U)

“Slowly” is a misnomer – the track and facilities were completed in a mere 300 days though at the heavy price of 4 million pesetas. What racing fans got was a 2km (1.25 miles) long kidney-shaped course whose semicircular corners were steeply banked at up to 60 degrees. By comparison, the highest banking at any current NASCAR track is “only” 36 degrees, at Bristol Motor Speedway. In addition to the grandstand, viewers were able to perch on the outer (and upper) reaches of the track as well as the raised edges of the infield. All that was left was to wave the checkered flag and start the race… ANY race.

On the Beaten Track

(images via: Find-a-Grave, Motorsnaps and Peter Morley)

Fortuitously, 1923 was the year in which Spain returned to the world Grand Prix calendar for the first time since 1913. Races were held on July 25th at the Circuito Lasarte near San Sebastián and on October 28th at Sitges-Terramar. The latter event was promoted via beautiful posters and by all accounts was a great success even though only 7 cars participated, 5 of which completed all 200 laps.

(images via: Peter Morley and Icollector)

The 1923 Gran Premio d’España was restricted to 2-litre GP cars which included those made by Alfa-Romeo, Aston-Martin, Elizalde, Miller and Sunbeam. The official winner was Frenchman Albert Divo driving a Sunbeam, finishing in 2 hours, 33 minutes and 50 seconds at an average speed of 155.89 kph (96.91 mph). Divo nosed out Count Louis Zborowski’s Miller 122 by a mere 56 seconds.

(images via: Formula 1 Database and Sportauto.ee)

Unfortunately for Divo, the thrill of victory was all he was able to take away from Sitges-Terramar: no prize money was awarded to any of the contestants. It seems that Frick Armangue was a better driver than a financier – unpaid cost overruns compelled the track’s construction contractors to seize the Grand Prix’s gate receipts leaving organizers empty-handed (and doubtless red-faced). International auto racing authorities were peeved to say the least, and they expressed their displeasure by withholding their sanction on any future races at Sitges-Terramar. The next several decades saw only scattered racing events at the track

(image via: LeBlogAuto)

How’s that for “cheap seats”? One imagines drivers at a post-WWII Volta a Catalunya (“Tour of Catalonia”) event would be dodging rolling apples, wine bottles and the occasional wayward child along with their fellow racers. It’s interesting to note the rather large clump of weeds sprouting through the concrete in the photo above, taken at one of the last races run at Sitges-Terramar in the mid-1950s.

Silence of the Lamborghinis

(images via: Peter Morley, Sportauto.ee and Rub851/Panoramio)

Fast forward fifty-odd years and very little has changed at Sitges-Terramar – clumps of weeds poke through the concrete in places but on the whole, the whole track could be made race-ready in surprisingly short notice. The airfield that used to take up a portion of the infield is gone for good, however.

(images via: Peter Morley)

Perhaps we should give Frick Armangue a bit more credit. He may have been a lousy money manager but he had the foresight to specify only the best materials and delegate construction contracts to the best-qualified forms and engineers.

(images via: Peter Morley and CarType)

The proof is in the pudding: the Autodromo Nacional’s segmented concrete surface has barely aged, while the similarly constructed Brooklands racetrack became uncomfortably bumpy mere months following its completion. It’s even possible to see the imprints of tires long rotted into dust – some racers couldn’t wait for the concrete to fully dry!

(images via: Mercado Racing and Fastest Lap)

Certainly weather must be considered as a contributing factor to the longevity of the Sitges-Terramar racecourse. Catalonia’s temperate clime and infrequent rainfall are much easier on poured concrete than Britain’s damp seasons and whip-sawing freeze-thaw cycles.

(images via: Sportauto.ee, CarType and G deCarli)

Sitges-Terramar’s relative isolation has also helped it stay in one piece, although its distance from Barcelona discouraged many race-goers in the early 1920s. The complex may be abandoned but it’s not neglected: a chicken farm exists in the former infield and takes up some of the old auto repair barns, while sheep graze in the relative peace and quiet of the countryside.

Drive to Revive?

(images via: CarType, Colla Verglas, Sala de Prensa and Formfreu)

Old auto racetracks never die but they don’t exactly fade away either. At least, very few have the chance. Sprawling over hundreds of acres and easily overtaken by urban sprawl, almost all of the legendary racetracks of the past have passed into history. Not Sitges-Terramar, though, and there may be life in the old girl yet!

(images via: VespaBCN)

Ownership of Sitges-Terramar has changed hands many times since 1930 when Edgard de Morawitz took it off the original builders’ hands. The current owner, Marcel Ricart, is also the latest visionary to see the potential of a 90-year old racetrack that remains in good condition. Though the City of Sitges has officially bestowed landmark status on the site, the Ricart family is working with elected authorities in an effort to renovate and revitalize Sitges-Terramar by creating “L’Autodrom Resort“.

(images via: La Moto Classica and Ciclismo Ninja)

In the meantime, Sitges-Terramar’s aged yet resilient concrete hasn’t exactly been collecting dust. Vespa motorscooter clubs, classic car concours, vintage motorcycle runs, intrepid photographers and more have all taken advantage of the rusty circuit’s timeless atmosphere. Grand plans like resorts take time to implement; well-built racetracks like Sitges-Terramar eat time for breakfast.

(image via: Dogsville)

Whatever the future may hold for the Autòdrom Nacional Sitges Terramar, there’s no doubt the past has an equal or stronger hold. Do the ghosts of long-lost racers deprived of their hard-won prize money softly rumble around the course late at night, riding high on the banked corners, eyes peeled for the checkered flag that never flies? If you go to Sitges-Terramar and dare to put your ear to the ancient concrete, you just might hear them.