Desert Plaza In Barakaldo / NO.MAD

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Text description provided by the architects. Something is born, something dies... but people remember a primitive place, evening fires, steel in the air, sleepers and rails, black coal and dark water everything flows, and the memory of that strange amalgam struggles to survive in the recollection of the landscape and men build once more, mad architects, homeless nomads, exciting places for the sedentary written on the ground distributing the discovered material uniformly across the new plaza recognising the reality of conditions that may affect their transformation and letting the definitive redistribution emerge on its own as the fruition of the process in a place wherein resides the memory of the steel alquemists, the boatbuilders, the land tillers, with all the components of that crucible amalgamated for the public steel and stone, wood and rich soil, all dead long ago, now revive, mixed together in small transitable spaces apt for discovery of frolic, intimate or collective in which one can just look or listen, or perhaps try to speak once more with an alternative topography a geography for pocketing the surrounding landscape and a flat estuary that vibrates with the mountains it envies.