The Ibiza of the Broners

There was a time when, in Ibiza, in contrast to the immaculate white of its whitewashed houses, gray, ocher and black tones swarmed, ruling the peasants' wardrobe as if they were their second skin. They barely showed an inch of skin, hiddern under skirts down to the feet and scarces that covered their hair, almost always collected in an infinite braid. They sheltered with rough fabrics and steaw hats to mitigate the sun of the island. How to imagine then that adlib, a few decades later, would come to teach everything on fashion, democratizing breasts, navel and thighs from prying eyes.

There was a time when donkey-drawn carts drove people along the dirt roads of Santa Gertrudis, San Antonio or the Vara del Rey promenade itself. Or that from the virgin white beaches only small fishing boats would be seen, simply because who woud think of bathing in that Mediterranean, and even less so half naked!

There was a time when Pitiusos never even in their worst nighmared dreamed of recieving hordes of tourists. And in which the foreigners who traveled to the island - and let's not say those who settled on it - could be counted almost on the fingers of both hands. Erwin Broner, a German architect and painter, was one of them. He arrived in Ibiza in 1933, at the age of 36, fleeing Nazism. He was not the only one. Like him, many other Jewish artists and intellectuals (such as the philosopher Walter Benjamin, the painter Will Faber or the photographer Raoul Hausmann) put the Nazi horror out of the way and found a perfect refuge there. The Broner thing with the white island was a crush. Penniless (Hitler's regime had confiscated all his possessions) and separqated from his wife, he had decided to settle in Mallorca. Nevertheless, the steamboat that was taking him from Barcelona to his destination stopped for a few hours in Ibiza. At that very moment, he fell in love with that wild place where time seemed to have stopped. And there he stayed, although the Spanish civil war ended with hhis particular Arcadia, and forced him to pack his bags again, then headed to New York. There he would meet Gisela Strauss, a Brazilian with a German father who would be his third (and definitive) wife.

Having become American citizens, some time later the Broners decided that it was better to be in old Europe. And they moved to Paris. However, in the midst of the post-World War II period, they longed to find a place that still preserved and authentic free spirit, where they could live at their own pace. They did not have to think too much, and in 1951 the marriage sttled in Ibiza. Erwin was still in love with the island, although Gisela had a harder time. She recognized the beauty of the landscape, but that did not impress her too much, since they had been traveling before through town in the Empordà and the Costa Brava that were not detracting at all. Although there was something that made the difference, according to what she said shortly before she died, in 2005: "I was struck by the way of life, the customs of the Ibizans, their archaism in general, how great it was to cycle or walk everywhere. It was a very relaxed life." He was also shocked by such everyday things as grocery shopping (without plastic bags!) And mixing vegetables, meat and fish that, to his surprise, were wrapped in newspaper...

In that somewhat wild and very cheap Ibiza, where those peasants dressed like their grandparents lived with foreigners whom they looked a little over their shoulders, but tolerating their oddities (including the custom of daily bathing), Erwin and Gisela Broner found happiness. And like them other bohemians of the beat generation, forerunners of the hippies that would come a decade later. The first house they settled into had no hot water; Nor did light until seven in the evening, when they could have electricity for a couple of hours. With the help of a plumber, the architect built a shower on a cliff: enough to wash, albeit with cold water...

The few foreigners on the island made friends with each other. In particular, those who shared artistic interest, such as the German Heinz Trökes, the Swedish Bertil Sjoeberg or the Russian Katja Meirowsky, among others, with whom Broner would form the group Ibiza '59 together with the Spanish ceramicist Antonio Ruiz. They were united by their concern for their time, their way of seeing art and literature and, of course, their passion for Ibiza. His first exhibition was held in the Dalt Vita neighbourhood, at El Corsario, an old 17th-century manor house converted into an art gallery in 1954 and today transformed into a restaurant and luxury accommodation.

However, Erwin's professional activity was not only focused on painting. As an active architect, Ibizan houses aroused his interest. So much so that he cycled around the island photographing as many as he could and studying them. "The houses of the peasants constitute a surprise for the modern architect, who is enthusiastic of the simplicity that these constructions of the field represent", he came to manifest. However, when it came to building his own house, the Broners chose the city of Ibiza and, more specifically, Sa Penya, the fishermen's neighbourhood. And there, on his cliff, in 1960, he built what would be his home until his death, eleven years later. Casa Broner, as it is known, combined the best of rationalist architecture - with clear references to the Bauhaus - with island constructions: juniper wood beams, white painted walls, straight lines and an absolute formal respect for the enviroment. As Gisela herself confessed in an interview much later, that house was the couple's dream: "It was always full of friends from all professional spheres, as well as the group's artists. They came from all over the world to visit us. It was a house full of life."

After the death of her husband, in 1971, Gisela remained in that space devised by both. In fact, she was her only resident on her island until she died, at the age of 93, but not before giving it to the city in her will. A home built like a balcony over the Mediterranean, which, over time, would see Ibiza grow until it became a tmple of the ad libitum movement first; also the scene of the ravages caused by the heroin in the 80s, when junkies and drug dealers turned the Sa Penya neighbourhood into her refuge... Hard times in which the artist's window was tempted to leave. However, something more powerful made her stay: "This was the house of my dreams, on the island of my dreams."

Almost seventy years have passed since the Broners joined their lives in Ibiza, today one of the most cosmopolitan places on the plaent. Women covered from head to toe no longer stroll through its streets, nor is it strange to see foreigners bathing in scant clothing in its marvelous cover and, much less, giving it their all on the dance floor of any of its luxurious disco hotels. Luckily, it is enough to visit Casa Broner to understand that the spirit of that free island, but also calm, is still possible; a place where, beyond the club culture, as if by magic, time stops again.