In the mid-sixties my personal and very close relationship with Eduardo Chillida began, favored by articles and interviews that he published about his work. Hence, the first time I went to San Sebastián he insisted that he always put me up in his house. He took the opportunity to show me the works in progress, whether in a large foundry, the formwork of the gigantic In Praise of the Horizon or the birth of the fascinating place destined to be Chillida Leku.
He was a great conversationalist, with a simple, open and direct manner; His given word was binding. It was fascinating to listen to his story, always didactic, always profound. He taught me the mystery and fascinating interaction between form and emptiness, that is, about sculpture. It was not surprising that the philosopher Heidegger wanted to meet him as soon as he admired his exhibited work and asked him to illustrate his latest book.
At the beginning of the deployment in pre-Olympic Barcelona of Oriol Bohigas' program to monumentalize the periphery, I asked him if it was planned to commission a sculpture from Chillida. He recognized himself delighted, but he didn't know him. I offered to do the management, and he approved it instantly.
I phoned him immediately and he replied that he would accept the proposal if the space inspired him. I wrote a letter to Mayor Maragall to inform him in detail about how the visit should be carried out: that Bohigas meet him at the airport, show him all the urban projects under construction and wait for his reaction. The second place visited was the Creueta del Coll, and immediately he asked her not to show him any more, because there he was going to create the dreamed myth of Narcissus: the water would reflect and complete the other half of the suspended sculpture. Every time I saw Maragall, he repeated to me with a smile: “Estic en deute amb tu.” I never intended to charge it.
When the sculpture collapsed, I had to intervene again, because the engineer Fernández Ordóñez did not want to admit that it was due to a technical failure and the repair was delayed. I informed Chillida about the conflict and he resolved it by addressing the issue directly with his friend.
When the Topos dihedral was purchased by municipal initiative, they asked him to choose the place. He fell in love with Plaza del Rei, although his wife, Pili, warned: “You're crazy, they're not going to allow it!” No problem arose.
At that time he often came to Barcelona. And at the end of a paradisiacal autumn, I invited them (Pili always accompanied her; she admitted to me that the only time she had undertaken a trip alone, she forgot her passport...) to lunch at the beach bars in Barceloneta; After setting the table in the sand, she told me: “You don't know what you have.”
He admired Barcelona and its people: “Only Central Europeans and Catalans understand and appreciate my work.” And immediately afterwards he added: “El Peine has never been inaugurated…”.
When the already inaugurated Macba wanted to act in a large party wall that spoiled the neighboring main entrance, I proposed that Chillida be commissioned. He was excited and created the enormous ceramic mural.
When La Caixa moved its headquarters to Diagonal in the imposing block designed by the architect José Antonio Coderch, he wanted a large sculpture by Chillida to dignify the Carles III corner. The price was considered excessive and no agreement was reached. Aware of this failed occasion, upon finishing the CaixaForum headquarters, the need to erect a form between architectural and sculptural was raised to distinguish and protect the uncomfortable descending main entrance. I suggested the convenience of hiring Chillida and it was accepted. Unfortunately he soon began to suffer the consequences of his degenerative disease. The work was successfully created by Arata Isozaki.
Every time I look at his donated plate on which he drew the profile of a hand and wrote at the bottom in Basque: “This is your friend's hand,” I continue to get emotional and miss him greatly.
