Dwarfed by the gigantic halls of the building, Jean Mouanga reaches for the elevator, dragging his broken leg along. “This place used to be magnificent”, he says, giving a last look around him. “But it's far from that now. Broken pipes, constant blackouts, squatting youngsters. That's what Abraxas is today.” Despite his awkward gait, Mr. Mouanga's words remain powerful. He is older than this fortress, and he will not let it defeat him.
A hidden temple in the outskirts of Paris
Just minutes after leaving Paris by train, the Palacio Abraxas rises in the landscape. It's been decades since the City of Light was completely surrounded by dozens of gray towns. The dreamlike towers of Abraxas are a welcome change, showing what the world could have looked like if architects had a little more imagination.
Designed by the spanish architect Ricardo Bofill in 1978, the building looks like a gigantic temple, perched on a hill above the city of Noisy-Le-Grand. Its two imposing main towers are painted with geometric motifs, and cutted through with strange lines and windows. They are adorned by a semi-circular set of spires, closing the complex like a secret sanctuary.
Once at the train station, Abraxas disappears. Maps of the surrounding area don't mention it, and no signs point to its presence. After traversing the huge mall just outside of the station, one reaches a sad courtyard, surrounded by dirty pools. However, even as one descends the hill, the Temple is nowhere to be seen.
Walkers in the street remain evasive about the “Palacio”: they say it is dangerous, impossible to visit after sundown. At the city hall, clerks barely acknowledge its existence, saying the place was to be torn down a couple years ago. The city of Noisy-Le-Grand seems to have turned its back to Abraxas, content with the town’s status as an average french town.
A Palacio in decay
To reach Palacio Abraxas, one must walk through a huge parking lot, which separates the structure from the rest of the town. Once arrived, the sight is breathtaking. Only a reddened light passes through its towers, illuminating its inner walkways. Strange Roman columns and palm trees adorn its dusty corners. At the center of the complex, a huge courtyard opens up to the visitor, its green grass contrasting with the the concrete giants that surround it.
Its highest towers have 18 floors, and the whole complex houses up to 500 apartments: mostly duplexes and triplexes. Despite the huge spaces and their low price, the buildings are emptying, and the place looks ruinous.
A small group of photographers walk through the courtyard, awed by its surreal atmosphere. “No wonder that they filmed science fiction movies here” one of them comments.“It seems out of this world”. The movies filmed at Abraxas, like Brazil and The Hunger Games, portray a hopeless future, where humans are crushed by an oppressive society.
This wasn't the vision of Ricardo Bofill, who considered “the city as a process, and not as a finished object”: a space that would evolve through the interaction and the diversity of its inhabitants. Staunchly opposed to the mass production of housing estates, he wanted to build spaces that could inspire and unite its residents. However, none of the 2500 inhabitants of the complex are visible: the ideal city seems dead.
The abandoned youth of Abraxas
Suddenly, shouts start to echo through the walls. Nobody can pinpoint where they come from, but they do not seem friendly. Eggs and junk are thrown from the top of the monument, as shouts turn louder and hooded figures appear in the courtyard. The message is clear: visitors are not welcome.
“That's a common problem in Abraxas” a guard of the building says. “The youngsters don't trust photographers. They think they work for the police.” Frustrated and unemployed, the youngsters of the Palacio squat the second floor, raising the ire of the residents.
“They have taken over the second floor, things have become unlivable there” laments Mister Mouanga, who has lived in the complex since its foundation. “There used to be a club for them, called the LCR. But it has been closed for years, because of sanitary issues. Now, they don't have a place to call their own.”
A brief moment of respite came in 2014, with the filming of the Hunger Games. “The production team gave jobs to everyone: security, cleaning, logistics...”, says Mister Mouanga. “They were happy to get paid, and they caused no trouble. Those Americans were pretty clever!” For a couple days, Abraxas recovered some liveliness. But things went back to usual after the team left.
The guards know things can turn bad if squatters find a photographer wandering through their territory: “I don't advise you to come and take pictures so carelessly. Try to warn us first, or contact ADIHPA.”.
ADIHPA: uniting in defense of Abraxas
In the empty corridors of the Palacio, ADIHPA (Association in Defense of the Interest of the Residents of the Palacio d'Abraxas) is the only source of life, organizing cultural activities and presenting Abraxas to the world.
Founded as a residential syndicate, the association truly gained strength in 2006, when the city mayor planned to demolish the complex. “We needed to be more united than ever” says Sébastien Biscaro, representative of the association. “For almost 10 years, we fought against eviction, we tried to make ourselves heard, even with the town against us”.
One can see weariness in Mister Biscaro's eyes. Ever since he settled in the Palacio, he has seen it crumble in disrepair. “I have only seen matters turn for the worse”, he says, “and I know we are not to blame. The last mayor left this place to rot, in order to have a reason to demolish it.”
This previous mayor governed Noisy-Le-Grand from 1995 to 2015. According to Biscaro, he never cared for Abraxas, and wanted to do away with it in order to build something more profitable. “While the government ignored us, artists were always present”, Biscaro continues. “This place has always inspired them, and ADIHPA is their intermediary. However, their presence is of little help if the buildings fall into ruin.”
Winds of change for the Palacio
However, change seems to be on its way: in September 2015 was elected. “The new mayor has plans for the Palacio.” says Mister Biscaro. “Since her election, she cancelled the demolition, and has arranged three meetings with ADIHPA.” Many plans are on the table, including the restoration of the building, and the construction of a new club for the young. Some even say Ricardo Bofill may be coming back to enlarge the complex.
According to Mister Biscaro, the Palacio Abraxas is not a failed dream. Despite being ignored for decades, it still holds a huge potential. In fact, if commerce was allowed inside the complex, as it was in its first years, Bofill's dream of integration could be fulfilled. “If there is change to be had, it should start by promoting work inside the complex, as well as connecting us to the rest of the town.”
In the upper floors of Abraxas, light bulbs barely work, and venturing outside of the elevator is an adventure. However, an incredible view of Paris can be glimpsed from behind the monument, as a reminder of where this building is, and what it can become.
Though winds seem to have changed, it may be long before real transformations can be seen in Abraxas. However, without an impending menace of destruction, there is still hope to be had.