When the fire that 30 years ago reduced the Liceu to ashes is remembered, a myriad of subplots emerge, as in any shared story. From the students who were visiting the theater that Monday, January 31, 1994, to the residents of the adjoining houses who had to be evacuated. Or the paintings from the Cercle del Liceu that were carried up the Rambla to save them from the flames. A trauma for the city that led its residents to gather at the theater's doors, cordoned off and leaving free that Miró that always remains etched in the Barcelona retina when something bad happens. The unfortunate ones to bear the misfortune were some workers who were carrying out welding work, despite the fact that for a long time it was a widely known obviousness that the building did not meet safety requirements and that it was a matter of time before it was proven. Therefore, it is not surprising that, when there was a performance, firefighters always sent a detachment just in case.
Around 11, a spark jumped and, in an old theater like the Liceu, all wood, velvet, and ropes, little could be done to avoid fatality. The flames consumed the curtain and reached the orchestra pit through what was known as the "bathtubs," some boxes in the proscenium, with their backs to the stalls and originally intended for high society widows who could not be seen. Their connection to the stage was what spread the flames to the hall and, in just two hours, the stage and the orchestra pit were destroyed, with the roof collapsing and raising a black smoke in the city sky. The fire did not leave there, saving the Saló dels Miralls and the entrance, even the corridor that surrounds the horseshoe that shapes the orchestra pit or the Cercle del Liceu itself, but the damage was already done.
"Luckily it didn't happen during a performance," says the former head of stage management at the Liceu, Xesca Llabres, who has been at the house since 1988 and is responsible for giving all orders and coordinating the different members of the theater, from raising the curtain and bringing in the singers to turning off the lights and whatever else is needed. The incident caught her far away that day, in Geneva, where she had traveled to see Fidelio, a production that was expected a few months later at the theater on La Rambla, built in the old Trinitarian convent in the mid-19th century. "Better, otherwise I would have tried to go in," she admits. "They called me on the phone at the Swiss theater and I couldn't believe it," continues Llabres, who a few days later was already back and was able to enter to collect the scores, also saved from the fire.
The last performance seen on the Liceu stage had been Mathis der Maler, on Saturday, January 29. A recital had been canceled the day before the fire, Sunday, January 30, and the day after, Tuesday, February 1, rehearsals for Turandot were to begin. It would be more than five years before the curtain would rise again and the opera signed by Núria Espert would finally be performed. The loss of an icon of the city was met with the unity of all administrations, dedicated to its reconstruction, as well as by the contributions of the city's main agents, who from the first days filled the pages of newspapers with announcements of their donations. A popular fund was even opened and concerts were organized on La Rambla to cover the costs.
The renovation was not as quick as that of the first and previous fire that the Liceu had suffered, in 1861, resolved in just one year. That time, the event did coincide with a performance, with some spectators already in the theater, as well as the musicians, but no deaths had to be lamented either. In the second fire, the works lasted for more than five years, which led to organizing small seasons in other facilities in the city such as the Palau de la Música, the Teatre Victòria, the Mercat de les Flors, the Teatre Nacional de Catalunya (TNC) and the Palau Sant Jordi. However, fires have not been the only black dates marked on the calendar of the theater on La Rambla, where the attack during the opening night of the 1893 season is also remembered, produced during the second act of Guillaume Tell. The anarchist Santiago Salvador threw two bombs, but only one exploded, causing about twenty deaths and a large number of injured.
From a 19th-century theater to a modern and cutting-edge one
The works on the building burned 30 years ago finally allowed for the updating of a structure conceived in the 19th century, as Llabres points out, who saw how his work automated many tasks and made a leap in scale. Although the appearance remained as before, the building was equipped with the latest technologies and, in addition, was expanded with neighboring plots on La Rambla and Sant Pau and Unió streets. Space was gained for the lobbies, lounges, staircases, offices and, above all, the rehearsal rooms, as well as the stage was improved to be able to have more than one simultaneous work on display and devices were incorporated to record the performances. The number of boxes was also reduced, eliminating the fateful bathtubs, and the slope of the hall was modified to improve vision, where an air conditioning system was also installed. "It is very different from what it was, but for a member of the public it is still very similar," says Llabres.
The nightmare was declared over on Thursday, October 7, 1999. At eight in the evening, the curtain, designed by Antoni Miró, rose again, before an audience full of authorities, in addition to all those who followed it from home on television. Giacomo Puccini's lyrical drama seduced an audience that was captivated from the first minute, as well as engrossed in contemplating the new hall and Perejaume's paintings. "It was very exciting," Llabres recalls. The artistic team had been working on the piece since August, "with helmets included because the rehearsal room was the only one that was up and running." It was not easy to adapt to all the improvements that had been incorporated, "it was a lot of work but also very exciting." "We returned with the problems and joys of any theater," he summarizes. And so the years have passed.