Few are aware that the Levante fountain, a celebrated work by Daniel Bañuls for Plaza de la Independencia, today known as Plaza de los Luceros, faced sharp criticism when it debuted in 1931. Critics did not hesitate to attack the monument’s modern ornamentation, a language that seems strikingly contemporary today. Publications like El Día and El Luchador highlighted the bold modernity of the sculptures and rejected the sculptor’s chosen forms in those early days.
In the second of these chronicles (issue 6352, June 22, 1931, page 5), a particularly telling article appeared, written under the pseudonym Susana and referencing the Greek tale from the Book of Daniel. It narrated the story of a young woman, Susana, wife of the wealthy Joaquín, who is spied upon by two old men during a bath. When discovered, they attempted to coerce her into sexual relations by accusing her of adultery against her husband. Susana refused, and though she was falsely accused and condemned, the prophet Daniel intervened on her behalf, and she was spared death. Source: Alicante city archives. Knowing this Old Testament account helps explain why El Luchador’s labeling of the urban monument Susana seems perplexing, since the sculpture itself does not depict that scripture. Yet, as in Susana’s tale, Bañuls’ work endured contempt and insult from those who failed to grasp its beauty at first glance.
There was genuine anticipation in Alicante to hear the direction of Levante, and only a few admired the original proposal presented to the City Council in the months before the fountain opened. Bañuls eventually altered the final direction of his creation, and when the monument was unveiled, onlookers who had come to admire the statues’ beauty voiced their disapproval upon realizing the piece differed from what they had anticipated. Source: City Council records.
Still, as with the Old Testament heroine, the Levante fountain’s path seemed to be steered by the tides of opinion. The sculpture gradually shed its early labels and came to symbolize Alicante, even if some observers initially misunderstood Daniel Bañuls’ artistic persona. It is difficult to deny that the famed monument transformed into a city emblem, and it no longer deserves the original mischaracterization as Susana.
Yet the sentiment lingers: a segment of Alicante society remains fixated on the past, while others enjoy the fountain’s beauty and wish to use the space for performances. In doing so, they risk compromising its preservation. The fountain’s surroundings have seen fireworks, gunpowder, and vibrations that threaten the stone, and these actions echo older acts of defiance against the monument rather than its protection. The fault lies not with the sculpture but with the choices made by some guardians of heritage who prioritize spectacle over preservation. The debate mirrors an old accusation — the urge to shield the present from discomfort by turning away from responsibility toward the past. The issues in play extend beyond a single event, touching on the larger balance between living culture and safeguarded heritage.
The hope is clear: like the steadfast intervene of the biblical Daniel, those responsible for Levante’s care should safeguard the monument from harm rather than censure opposing voices. The aim of restoration should be to preserve the monument’s integrity, not to mask damage with pyrotechnics or to glorify it through events that threaten its fabric. The emphasis must be on responsible stewardship, ensuring that celebrations occur in venues designed to accommodate them, so the fountain can endure for future generations.
Preservation is not a prohibition on festivity. Festivals remain a source of cultural wealth and a strong tourist draw, and both movable and immovable heritage deserve careful care. Alicante’s residents have the opportunity to enjoy the Levante fountain while offering it to visitors in a way that respects its history and its material reality. The city faces a choice: to honor its legacy honestly or to cling to a skewed pride that forwards harm. In that sense, the tale of Susana serves as a reminder that restoration and protection are obligations, not optional adornments, and that the Levante fountain’s future hinges on prudent decisions by those who guide its care.