Triana may look on a map like just another neighborhood in Seville, but that’s just a map. On the ground, and in the minds of Trianeros it’s still a separate place and has a history all its own. Despite that, it’s so closely linked to Seville’s fortunes that no one even knows for sure when it officially became part of the city.
Even its physical connection to the city was tenuous; a pontoon bridge built in 1171 by Moorish rulers was destroyed less than a century later by Christian conquerors, and until the 1854 bridge above—copied from the Pont du Carousel in Paris—the only way to Triana was by boat, which helped build its sense of difference.
The 1927 neo-Moorish chapel at the bridge’s end symbolized the spot where travelers would ask a blessing before crossing the river, and also marks the site of a 10th-century castle that was Seville’s last defense from the west. Later it became a church, and from 1481 to 1785 it was the seat of the Spanish Inquisition for the region.
While Seville, after the Christian conquest, became one of Spain’s richest cities through a monopoly on trade with the Americas, Triana became the home of sailors, fishermen and other maritime workers who couldn’t afford to live in Seville but needed to be near its docks and warehouses. Along with them, there was a sizable Romani population, lasting well into the mid-20th century.
From them comes Triana’s claim to being the original home of flamenco; the statue above bears a plaque “From Triana, to the Art of Flamenco.” However, most of the streets that were home to the Romani population disappeared in 1970s redevelopment projects.
The late 19th and early 20th centuries were good times in Triana, at least for the wealthiest in the community, and there are architectural landmarks to show it. Both small buildings like the pharmacy above, with its regional touches and Moorish-themed arched windows and more elaborate buildings date from that period.
Now serving as the local offices of Seville’s government, the elaborate and imposing mansion above was built for one of the area’s most important tile and ceramic-making families; a lesser edifice across the street was built for the eldest son and his family, also with a tiled facade.
There’s a lot of tile and other ceramics to be seen in Triana, and that’s not an accident. Aside from its maritime connections, Triana’s main industry for several centuries was commercial tile and ceramic production, with the last factories closing in the 1990s, and some small production revived today—some for architectural and heritage uses and some for tourist consumption.
Walking streets in the ‘ceramic district,’ numbers of the shops are in former production spaces, offering wares ranging from finely-made tiles, bowls and tableware to lamentable kitsch.
The Ceramica Santa Ana houses both an artisanal pottery maker and seller and a museum dedicated to the area’s history with clay; it and its neighbors are profusely decorated with their work.
Our visit was during Seville’s annual spring festival; as in other neighborhoods, there were plenty of banners hung on building facades. In Triana, many focused on local pride, but the most elaborate were for the “Hope of Triana,” an icon of the Virgin Mary that is paraded annually through the streets, and is housed in the Sailors’ Chapel near the House of Columns.
The House of Columns, now a civic center with library and other programs, is another piece of Triana’s maritime history: it was built in the 1500s to house the Universidade de Mareantes, or University of the Men of the Sea, created to bring together training for sailors, masters, pilots and other seafarers to support Spain’s trade with its colonies. In the 18th century, it became home to guilds and associations of maritime workers.
Across the street from the House of Columns is the church Trianeros think of as their cathedral, the Church of Santa Ana. The church holds the title of the oldest church in Seville on a technicality: Built in 1280, all those that are older were originally mosques or rebuilt from mosques. Santa Ana was the first post-conquest church built from scratch.
Fascinating article and excellent photo illustrations.