Fifty Years Ago: Aqaba in Almeria

Fifty years ago, in April of 1962, the Algarrobico beach on the southeastern coast of spain was bustling with activity as two hundred local workers constructed a replica of the Red Sea port of Aqaba circa 1916 for the filming of Lawrence of Arabia. They took three months to construct 300 false-front buildings and a quarter mile sea wall. The crew planted palm trees, trucked in from Alicante, placed four full-size canons on the hills above, and brought 450 horses and 150 camels from Morocco. Hundreds of local fishermen and gypsies served as extras.

In the film, British officer T.E. Lawrence and his Arab followers make the arduous trek across the Nefud desert to mount a surprise attack from inland; the city’s defenses are all directed out towards the sea. From a ridge overlooking the port, the camera pans to the right, following the stampede of warriors on camels and horses into the city before resting on an impotent cannon pointed at the water. It is one of Director David Lean’s most memorable scenes.

Lean had intended to shoot the entire film in Jordan, on the same terrain where Lawrence had waged his campaign. But by the end of September 1961, Lean and crew had been shooting under harsh conditions in the deserts of Jordan for 117 days, were behind schedule and over budget, and had only 45 minutes of footage. The costs (both financial and psychological) of working 200 miles into the desert were high. Producer Sam Spiegel was worried that Lean had become obsessed with the desert, and he was increasingly nervous about growing political debate in Jordan over the film.

Someone at Columbia Pictures reported that there were deserts in the south of Spain. Independent American producer Samuel Bronston had recently made El Cid and parts of King of Kings in Almeria. So Spiegel shut down the production and informed the crew they would be moving to Spain. Lean felt betrayed. He wrote Spiegel from the desert: “you won’t touch this place for backgrounds, for after all they are the real backgrounds. … You can’t beat Aqaba for Aqaba.”

André de Toth, one of Lean’s second unit directors, was sent ahead to scout for locations. Sixty years old, he was a flamboyant character with an eye patch that gave him the appearance of a pirate. He was also a pilot. “I flew my own plane and went all over the place. Then I found Almeria,” he recalled.

Almeria was barren, dry and rugged, but it lacked the monumental desert vistas of Jordan. Lean planned for closer camera angles to suit the dramatic intensity and action of the second half of the film, which would also serve to make the shift in locations less noticeable. But they still had one expansive scene left--the attack on Aqaba.

Production designer John Box found the ideal location to construct the sprawling set. Outside the small fishing village of Carboneras was a dry river bed running between barren hills and ending at the beach. The rocky coastline beyond stretched out into the sea. When it came time for filming, the attack was done in one take with multiple cameras (among the cameramen was a young Nicolas Roeg). In the end, the scene was far more dramatic than the real city of Aqaba, considerably modernized by the 1960s, could have been.

In the final film, the first view of the landscape of Almeria, and the departure from Jordan, comes when Lawrence and Sheik Ali peer down at the city of Aqaba the night before the attack. The scene cuts abruptly from the wide-open golden desert, enormous twisted rock formations jutting out of the sand, to oscillating peaks and gulches of the spanish coast silhouetted at night.

The second half of Lawrence was made in Spain and Morocco. Sand dunes along the coast of Almeria became the setting for the explosion and attack on the railway. A dry riverbed in Tabernas was planted with palm trees to create the desert oasis that Lawrence’s army stops at on the way to Aqaba. A casino in Seville, originally built for the Iberian-American Exhibition of 1929, became the Damascus Town Hall. And the city streets of Seville and Almeria stood in for Cairo.

After the filming was over, the entire Aqaba set was dismantled and the construction materials given to local farmers. Today the old riverbed has a highway running over it, and alongside the beach lies  a massive uncompleted luxury hotel, seen in the image above. Watching the film again, one can easily recognize the distinctive chiseled rocks extending out into the water.

The Neighborhood Network

Along with a dozen Mid City Artists, I'll be participating in the Social Network in the Neighborhood exhibit at the new DC Loft Gallery. I have three prints in the show from the Icon in Miami and Algarrobico in Almeria, Spain. Both are newly-constructed luxury real estate developments that have been left uninhabited (or uninhabitable) amid the real estate crisis. Unfortunately, I'll miss the opening reception, but there are plans for an artist talk evening in December. The new space is near 14th and U streets, above Domino's Pizza at 1926B 14th Street.

Algarrobico

Over a year ago I blogged about the background to the controversial hotel at Algarrobico on the coast of Almeria in southern Spain. It has been over four years since a court ruling delared the construction to be in violation of laws protecting the Cabo de Gata natural park and coastline and work on the hotel was stopped. However, the unfinished construction still stands, surrounded by four enormous cranes (one out of view). I was back there in August and climbed the peak across from the hotel to get this image.

Lawrence of Arabia and an Illegal Hotel

Almost half a century ago ago this barren section of the Almeria coastline in southern Spain was bustling with the activity of a small metropolis. Workers were constructing a replica of the city of Aqaba for the filming of the famous battle scene in Lawrence of Arabia. After the shoot, the entire set was dismantled, leaving the rocky coastline exactly as it had been before. The site now lies within the borders of the protected natural park of Cabo de Gata.

A few years ago, a developer began construction on a mega-resort complex alongside the Algarrobico beach, a few hundred meters from the site of Aqaba. The main hotel, Azata del Sol, was to include 411 rooms in 20 stories, most with water views due to the fact that the hotel scales the side of a cliff. Another seven residential buildings and an 18-hole golf course were also part of the plan.

However, opponents of the development claimed that it was in violation of regulations protecting the natural park and the Spanish coastline. In February 2006 a court ruling declared the construction illegal and ordered that work on the hotel be stopped. Last year, the government of the province of Andalucia stated that they would purchase the land the hotel is on, after which they would demolish the building and return the site to its original state.

So far, the unfinished building still stands. I was there in February and took some photographs. The previous week, seventy Greenpeace activists had draped the hotel with more than 18,000 square meters of green material in order to draw attention to the blemish the construction has created on the coastline.