C 12 63
busy road, and the decision to take the traf-
fic down so that the Jardines could reach the
water became very important. It was made
with the family, with Emilio, with the mayor,
and of course with the community. So it was,
again, a story of love for public space. It was
not about rhetoric or about showing muscles.
Emilio Botín wanted something with a pres-
ence, but without standing out too much in the
place. And that’s why we made the building
fly… because we have the trees there, so when
you come from the city, you go through the
park, so by putting the building on columns,
like trunks, the building actually disappears.
You see through the leaves, the ground floor
is free. If it rains you go there and you’re in
the shade if it’s a sunny day. Then you go
up to the Plaza, a kind of space between the
two buildings.
LFG: You imagine it full of people moving
up and down…
RP: As soon as it stops raining in Santand-
er, everybody goes to the Paseo. This building
is right at the end of the Paseo, where it joins
the Jardines… so of course people will be a
sort of fourth dimension. There are not just
three dimensions, there’s a fourth one: move-
ment. This is also true at the Pompidou, with
the escalators. It’s about movement. Even the
Whitney, with those stairs. It’s about people
moving. What I expect from Santander, from
the Botín Centre, is that the ground floor, the
plaza, and the stairs will be full of people
moving, resting in the bar or just sitting…
This will also be very good in the summer
because we’re in the shade. And the magi-
cal thing there is the light. When you look
southward, the light touches the water and
rises. The skin of ceramic pieces, 270,000
pieces of nacre, mother-of-pearl, reflects the
weather, the light. So it’s a bit organic, like
a fish jumping out of the water.
LFG: With shiny scales…
RP: There’s a reason for this. We wanted
the building sparkling and playing with the
light, gray light or sunny light. Even in the
rain. We wanted a building that would have a
kind of sparkling skin. So I cross my fingers.
I think it’s going to be loved… A good build-
ing is one that’s loved, adopted by people.
A place like this is what makes cities good
places to stay in, because it’s about tolerance,
sharing, values, enjoyment, community. This
is important. The greatest joy of architects
is to see their buildings loved by people. So,
whether in Rome or New York or Paris or San
Francisco, if I see people smiling and enjoying
my building, it’s a joy.
LFG: That’s a good way to end this conver-
sation about the points of the inner compass
that has guided you since childhood. Antoine
de Saint-Exupéry’s Le Petit Prince has an
asteroid, as you do, so now you can join the
little prince up in the stars…
RP: When they called me about this, you
know, I asked if this was a safe asteroid. They
said, of course, we’ve been checking for ten
years, don’t worry. For how long, I asked.
They said, for at least two million years, the
asteroid is safe!
“A good building
is one that’s loved,
adopted by people”
