Hi friends! Today, we stroll down one of those shadowed medieval streets that
can still surprise even the most seasoned Barcelona walker — el carrer de la
Pietat. It’s a place where history is carved into stone… or, in this case,
molded in resin.
The famous tympanum that’s not what it seems
Visitors flock to the Gothic Quarter for its cobblestone charm, intricate
façades, and the hushed coolness of cloisters. Right where carrer de la Pietat
meets the side of Barcelona’s Cathedral, above a sealed doorway into the
cloister, you’ll see a striking relief: Mary cradling the lifeless body of
Christ, symbols of the Passion clustered around them, and, kneeling humbly in
the corner, the canónigo Berenguer Vila — the man who commissioned the piece
in the late 15th century.
For decades, most assumed they were looking at the real medieval carving. In
truth, what you see today is a replica. The original — carved in oak by the
German sculptor Michael Lochner — rests safely inside the Museu Diocesà.
From Gothic Germany to the streets of Barcelona
Michael Lochner wasn’t just any itinerant craftsman. Arriving in Barcelona in
the late 1400s, he brought with him the stylistic language of German Gothic
art — sharp folds in garments, expressive faces, and a heightened emotional
realism. Alongside the Pietat, Lochner is credited with works inside the
Cathedral choir and a now-lost retable of Sant Pere for Premià de Dalt,
destroyed during the Spanish Civil War.
The Pietat was once in place over this very door until one night, decades ago,
thieves tried to prise it from the wall. The plot was foiled by the Guardia
Urbana, but the scare convinced Cathedral officials to replace it with a resin
copy. Some whisper the attempt bore the signature of the infamous art thief
Erik el Belga, though the link has never been officially proven.
Carrer de la Pietat: a medieval artery
Carrer de la Pietat is more than just the stone backdrop to this story.
Winding along the northern flank of the Cathedral, the street owes its name to
the very sculpture we’ve been talking about. Historical records place it as
part of the medieval precinct known as the barri de la Sede, home to clergy,
scribes, and artisans linked to the Cathedral works.
In medieval times, the street was a service corridor between the
ecclesiastical quarter and the episcopal palace. Here, merchants brought
stone, wood, and supplies; choristers and canons passed between the cloister
and their dwellings. Narrow, shaded, and somewhat secretive, carrer de la
Pietat retains that hushed quality today — a whispering path between
centuries.
The cloister: oasis and symbol
The cloister of Barcelona Cathedral, accessed from the main nave or through
side doors like the one beneath the Pietat, is a world apart from the bustle
outside. Built between the 14th and 15th centuries, it surrounds a garden
filled with palms, orange trees, and the famous gaggle of white geese — 13 in
number, symbolizing the age at which Saint Eulàlia was martyred.
For clergy, the cloister was a spiritual and practical center — a place for
processions, chapter meetings, and quiet contemplation. For us modern
visitors, it is a stone-walled time capsule. Standing inside, you can almost
hear the echo of sandals on flagstones and the distant peal of bells.
Stories in stone
The Pietat portal isn’t the only sculptural treasure along this street. Look
up and you’ll spot gargoyles — dragons, grotesques, and even more playful
creatures — jutting from the buttresses. Their function was practical (to
drain rainwater) but their artistry, like Lochner’s work, was deeply tied to
the imagination of the time.
Other chapels inside the cloister bear coats of arms from Barcelona’s guilds,
reminders that the Cathedral’s grandeur was as much a civic as a religious
endeavor.
A walk worth slowing for
For photographers, carrer de la Pietat offers layered perspectives — arches
framing arches, light filtering between stones, and the drama of the Pietat
relief catching the sun at certain hours. Knowing that the carving is a
replica doesn’t diminish its power. In fact, it adds a layer of intrigue: a
secret between the city and those who care to look closer.
And here lies the essence of Barcelona’s Gothic Quarter — beauty woven with
stories, some whispered in archives, others hidden in plain sight.
So next time you pass the Cathedral, slip down carrer de la Pietat. Pause
before the Pietat. And think of the hands that shaped it five centuries ago,
the near-loss that prompted its retreat indoors, and the quiet street that
still bears its name.