All the works on display conveyed great vitality, from small birds, various animals, and characters of the 1920s to the motorised compositions of the 1930s. The Constellations of the 1940s split apart, casting their shadows onto the walls. The mobiles seemed to dance within the spaces created by Josep Lluís Sert, architect of the Foundation building and a friend of Miró and Calder, while the stabiles defined the proportions of the rooms.
Among the works exhibited, there was one that was very special, or more than special, exceptional: the Mercury Fountain, which the artist created to be presented at the Pavilion of the Spanish Republic at the 1937 Paris World Fair, and which today forms part of the permanent collection of the Joan Miró Foundation. How did this unique work end up at the Foundation? All the circumstances surrounding Calder's Mercury Fountain are marked by a series of unexpected and fortunate coincidences.
To place this episode in context, we must go back to the pavilion intended to represent Spain at the 1937 Paris World Fair. Luis Lacasa and Josep Lluís Sert were the architects commissioned to design it. It was planned that, within this pavilion built with very modest materials, a selection of popular craft objects would be displayed alongside works by contemporary Spanish artists. Among them were Picasso, who painted Guernica, and Joan Miró, who created Catalan Peasants in Revolt on one of the walls, a work more than five metres high that was unfortunately lost when the pavilion was dismantled.
The architects had planned for a fountain to be installed in one of the open spaces. The war situation in Spain made it difficult to follow precise instructions regarding the type of fountain expected in Paris. As a result, a fountain arrived at the pavilion that, neither in its materials nor in its historicist features, fitted the context. Alexander Calder, who was then living in Paris and was a good friend of Miró, through whom he met Josep Lluís Sert, offered his help. A decision was urgent, and his proposal was well received by all. Only one problem remained: all the artists in the pavilion were Spanish. Calder’s participation raised no objections. Thus, with complete freedom, he made a proposal that surpassed all expectations.
Calder’s proposal, like those of the other artists in the pavilion, bore witness to the cruelty of the Civil War. Each chose their own way to express it. Picasso opted to portray the tragedy as if it were a black-and-white press image, dramatically enlarged. Miró expressed himself forcefully by painting directly onto the rough surface of a wall made of composite wood, a material he had already used the previous year in his Series of 27 Paintings on Masonite.
The Paris exhibition came to an end and, shortly afterwards, World War II broke out. It seemed that Calder’s exceptional work had disappeared, but this was not the case: it was initially stored in a warehouse belonging to a friend of Alexander Calder in Paris. Years later, it was moved to Saché and, when Joan Miró created his Foundation in Barcelona, the Mercury Fountain reappeared. Calder, aware that it was kept among his works, located it and decided that the Foundation of his friend Miró was the most fitting destination for this piece.
The work was finally installed sometime later, but those of us who had the privilege of attending, in 1976, a demonstration by Alexander Calder himself on how to assemble the different elements of the fountain have retained an unforgettable image: A tall figure, with thick eyebrows and a red shirt. With the greatest simplicity, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, he showed us how, with creativity and imagination, one can even make minerals flow.



