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 Beaches of Cabo de Gata

Tuesday's Frugal Traveler column in the New York Times covers the undeveloped and (so far) undiscovered beaches of Cabo de Gata in Almeria, Spain. In fact, author Seth Kugel describes his ideal beach as:

one that you come upon after a hilly, rocky hike over scrub-covered hills. It's a half-moon cove of ashen sand flanked at either end by rock formations that look like giant Impressionistic sand castles. Instead of palms, occasional yellow and purple wildflowers dot the nearby hills; instead of mojitos there are mandarin oranges and nispero fruits bought at a farmer's market; instead of warm Caribbean ripples, there is bracing Mediterranean surf to cool you down under cloudless skies.

He's referring to the Cala de Entremedio, but the description could easily fit several secluded beaches within the Cabo de Gata-Nijar Nature Reserve. Kugel also notes that parts of Lawrence of Arabia were filmed there, among other films. But he was a little too cheap to try the fresh seafood at La Ola, my favorite spot, where you order based on drawings of the fish brought in that day. More of my Almeria recommendations here.

I took the photo above of a nineteenth century fortification at Los Escullos in the Cabo de Gata park.

Satanic Messages Save a Decaying Old Church: La Iglesia de las Salinas

The Iglesia de las Salinas has been slowly decaying since its construction in 1907. The century-old church lies the coast of Almería in the Cabo de Gata natural park. A combination of ocean winds and salt in the air--the church's name comes from the fact that it sits next to a salt processing operation--have been literally eating away at the stone construction. The process has worn down the facade, making it appear much more advanced in years.

However, recently the process of decay has accelerated, hastened by neglect and periodic vandalism. A faded billboard from 2007, the 100th anniversary of the building's construction, promises rehabilitation "soon." The church is under the control of the Roman Catholic Dioces of Almería, which so far has not followed through on their promises to protect the site.

Then on Monday morning March 7 workers at the salt plant saw the church doors wide open. They entered and found a "terrifying" site--the interior walls and floor were covered with black and red symbols and drawings evoking the devil. Remnants of candles and other materials seemed to suggest the space had been used to perform a satanic ritual. The Bishop of Almeria held an emergency meeting denouncing the "profane" act of vandalism.

The lengthy process of obtaining construction permits for the location, only meters from the coastline and in the middle of a natural park, has also delayed the renovation. But within twenty four hours of the discovery, the Andalucian environmental authorities promised the approvals were being fast-tracked and the local government of Almeria promised $150,000 euros towards the project. Sometimes it takes an encounter with the devil to finally get things moving.

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.

Interview in La Voz de Almeria

Spanish journalist Federico Utrera conducted this interview with me by email about my photography and relation to Spain. Utrera is based in Madrid but is originally from Almeria. I first met him last year when he was writing about my uncle Federico Castellon. I was flattered that he took the time to review my portfolio in detail and propose some thoughtful questions. The article appeared in the La Voz de Almeria print edition just before the holidays. The portrait photo is by Stirling Elmendorf. Click on the image below to see the full size article.

Spanish Ghosts: Notes on the Locations

I provided some information at the Spanish Ghosts exhibition about the locations where the photographs were taken. These buildings and spaces have many intriguing stories behind them that add to their significance. Here are the descriptions:

Cortijo del Fraile: Federico Garcia Lorca's Bodas de Sangre was inspired by a true story that appeared in a Spanish newspaper in 1928. A bride-to-be ran off with another man (her cousin) the night before the wedding, but the groom's brother discovered the couple and shot and killed the lover. The bride-to-be lived on a farm called El Fraile. Over 75 years later, the ruins of the farm remain in the remote countryside of Nijar in Almeria, accessible only by a poorly marked, unpaved road. These images show part of the chapel building on the property.

Carabanchel: In October 2008, I spent two days photographing the interior of the former Carabanchel prison in Madrid, one of the most infamous architectural landmarks from Spain’s decades of dictatorship. General Francisco Franco ordered construction of the complex in the 1940s to house the regime’s many political prisoners. After the prison was finally closed in 1998, the building was heavily looted—all the metal gates and fixtures were removed—and it became a haven for graffiti artists, drug addicts, homeless immigrants and curious observers. The month after my visit the entire structure was demolished to make way for new development of condominiums and a hospital.

Santa Isabel: In 1966 the Beatles renounced performing live after more than four years of relentless touring around the world. As a change of pace, John Lennon took on the role of Private Gripweed in Richard Lester's black comedy How I Won the War, which spent three months filming in the desert of Almeria, on the southern coast of Spain. John and his then-wife Cynthia rented a villa, known as Santa Isabel, from a wealthy local family. It was here that Lennon began writing the verses to Strawberry Fields Forever, immortalized on a series of low-fi recordings in which Lennon's voice and acoustic guitar reverberate through the villa's grand rooms. The grand house later fell into disrepair, but is now being renovated into a museum of cinema. These photographs were taken just before the renovations started.

Tabernas: During the 1960s and 1970s, the desert around Tabernas was used as a backdrop for numerous films, including Sergio Leone’s early Spaghetti Westerns starring Clint Eastwood. Film sets that Leone built to look like towns in the American West have been preserved in the dry climate and have now become a tourist destination for curious visitors and film fans. The remains of Leone’s Flagstone set from Once Upon a Time in the West are more remote, but the Phoenix Bank is still partially standing.

Cabo de Gata: The landscape of Cabo de Gata, along the coast of Almeria, is dotted with architectural remains. The photographs here show the interiors of an abandoned house marked with graffiti, a 19^th century church adjacent to a salt-processing plant, and an 18^th century fortification.

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.

Ghost Houses of Cabo de Gata

 

The landscape of Cabo de Gata, along the coast of Almeria, is dotted with architectural remains -- eighteenth century fortifications, abandoned mining operations, and empty cortijos. These vacant structures, fixed in the arid desert landscape for decades or centuries, seem timeless. They could have been abandoned fifteen years ago, or 150 years ago. It's often hard to tell, as the stillness of the desert masks any signs of life. However, these architectural relics are, in fact, products of human history and have some intriguing stories to tell. The Cortijo del Fraile (which I blogged about previously) was the site of a deadly love triangle that became the inspiration for Federico Garcia Lorca's Blood Wedding. Not far away along the coast, I encountered an abandoned house at the edge of an enormous cliff that dropped the ocean below. I've been unable to find any information about it, though a detailed topographical map of Cabo de Gata identifies the spot as "Casa del Tomate". Inside, there is also evidence -- graffiti, a few empty bottles, a pair of discarded boots -- of more recent visitors.

Inside the Cortijo del Fraile | Google Maps

Inside the Casa del Tomate | Google Maps
 

Fraser Gallery

My photograph Cabo de Gata was accepted for the Fraser Gallery 6th Annual International Photography Competition. The show will be up from February 9 - March 3, 2007 with an opening reception and awards ceremony on Friday February 9 from 6 to 9 pm. The scene is from the Cabo de Gata natural park in Almeria, Spain.