What light do we want in our life?

When Conchi found out that incandescent light bulbs, the classic ones, were going to disappear, she had an anxiety attack. Luckily, Dolors, her partner of many years, gave her a paper bag so she could breathe slowly and emerge from her distress. That same afternoon they went to Monsó i Benet, on Muntaner Street, their go-to hardware store, and inquired about the dramatic situation. Indeed, they had stopped being manufactured. Faced with that devastating news, they began to buy every incandescent bulb they could find to stock up for life.

Until then, their home of so many years had been the height of refinement when it came to lighting. Since you cannot always have lit candles, their goal had been to recreate the effect of tiny flames with bulbs of all intensities, always warm and cozy. Entering their home was like stepping into a scene from a Woody Allen movie. The guests noticed it immediately, and dinners in that house were always special.

Candles, the low lamp in the corner, the warm bulb: they all do the same thing, they soften the shadows and make us a little more attractive than we are. On the other side is the kitchen tube light, the police station ceiling light, the bare bathroom bulb, which does not illuminate but interrogates.

I have a theory, and I state it as it is: a theory, not a study. Where it is hot, life happens outside. Chairs are taken out to the street, dinners are organized in the cool air, one lives on the terrace, in the square, in the courtyard, at open-air markets, in the street with the coming and going, grabbing a bite, having a little beer, and many times accompanied by music: salsa, bossa nova, rumba, flamenco, percussion. In these places on the planet, the house is where one goes to sleep and to escape the sun, and perhaps that is why they do not worry much about the light inside the house.

But it is not always like that. Where it is not quite the tropics, winter makes itself felt and one has to spend many hours indoors, in inhospitable and unwelcoming houses, even if the heating works perfectly. Because warmth is not only thermal, it is visual and, therefore, luminous.

In contrast, in countries where it is cold for a large part of the year, where in November it gets dark at four o'clock and people spend months locked indoors, the dining room becomes a stage: candles, lights at different heights, fire in the hearth. The Danes have given it a name, hygge, a word that has no literal translation and that implies a feeling of well-being, warmth, and comfort, of being at ease. Where you cannot go out, you must be able to stay comfortably. Including the bathroom, the kitchen, the study, the office. In all places, it is possible to change the light and make your life more beautiful, more golden, like at Conchi and Dolors' house, like in Woody Allen's films. Thus, arriving home will be an even greater pleasure, whether you have spent the night at the Liceu or dancing bulerías at the Feria de Abril.