In the peaceful community of Barcelona architects, in the mid-sixties, a stranger appeared: a stranger with an uncertain curriculum, who both attracted and unsettled society. A young man who began building buildings without ever having stepped into the Escuela de Arquitectura de Barcelona, who couldn’t even be registered with the Colegio de Arquitectos. An individual who claimed to have been expelled from a Spanish university for political reasons, who, after two years in Geneva, grew tired of academic education and began building without further ado. And what he built, like the first residential building on Compositor Bach Street, unsettled those of us who, barely a year younger, were still struggling with the final subjects and the thesis of our long-lasting degree.

Ricardo Bofill began his meteoric independent career, separate from the Barcelona architects of his generation. Although it’s hard to admit today, for many years the gurus of what came to be called the Escola de Barcelona distrusted the real value of that undocumented young man. But that architect without a degree designed apartments in Castelldefels, the Nicaragua building, the Catillo de Kafka, the Barrio Gaudí... singular, very personal, risky, debatable works, but unquestionably brilliant.

In 1973, Ricardo built the Muralla Roja in Calpe. For this occasion, he invited a group of Barcelona architects for a guided tour. The work generated open controversy: for a restrained, austere, and neorealist Escola de Barcelona, those formal excesses with no functional justification scandalized more than one. Personally, I was dazzled and admit that it also provoked some envy. Today, it has become a phenomenon in youth networks and the favorite set for fashion photoshoots.

My long relationship with Ricardo was never intimate, but it was always cordial and respectful. Along with Fernando Higueras, I was one of the few who always valued his work. Furthermore, due to my resentful but grateful character, I don’t forget that three projects came to my studio through his recommendation: the first house I designed with Lluís Clotet, the VIP lounge in his first airport in Barcelona, and the La Coupole building in the Quartier Antigone in Montpellier. I remember a very significant moment about his character at the inauguration of Antigone. In a very French, protocol-driven ceremony, many took the floor: the mayor of Montpellier, the urban planning councilor, a representative from the Ministry of Culture, one from Public Works... Ricardo Bofill was a genius of architecture. He was on stage and, as the event was nearing its end and it seemed that he would not be granted the floor, he boldly approached the microphone and said, “In an event like this, it’s unthinkable not to give the word to the architect who created the work. So, I will explain what I intended with it.” And, to my admiration for his daring, he did so with conciseness and brilliance. This independent and uncompromising character that has marked his career seems admirable to me. Ricardo never courted politicians or critics, he dared to take a client to court for distorting one of his early works, he negotiated fees proportional to his work, but much higher than the minimums imposed by the Architects' Association, which was very difficult for us to collect; when we were invited to a competition with other qualified architects, he opposed it, arguing: “How are we going to compete among ourselves to give a bunch of great ideas to the clever client? The project is big enough that we can share it like good friends.”

Many years ago, I wrote that I was convinced that Ricardo Bofill was a genius, but I had doubts about which discipline. This statement, which has never been forgotten in the Workshop, today, just hours after his passing, I would modify: among these disciplines, without a doubt, is Architecture.