barcelona (prose)

L’embarcador (1911)
Santiago Rusiñol
Santiago isn’t by far the most famed Catalan painter, but he is incredibly special to me. His paintings create the sentiment of “recent antiquity”, an incredibly hard to encapsulate aspect of Iberia and her countries, Catalonia included. L’embarcador, which is currently in National Museum of Catalunya, is one of the jewels of that Iberian spirit.

A long but masterfully played rendition of Sor’s Etudes by Yepes. Serene but still moving and energetic, it’s easy to hear the landscapes of Mediterranean Spain through the melodies.

Published by João-Maria

A tick clinging to the bristles of a purple boar.

9 thoughts on “barcelona (prose)

    1. Hardly anywhere, E. Certainly not in Barcelona. I never quite understood the concept of hiding. When I was a child and played our “escondidas”, your “esconde-esconde”, I always hid in such a way that I would be certainly — albeit not easily — discovered. Hiding can be a terribly visible thing, and it often is. I’m not like that.
      I hope you’ve been well.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. My favorite color is the blue of her touch, the blue of her song to know me, know us, but we fear to lose our identities because there are bugs in the Kafkaesque world, though some are fireflies, cold lights mating dreams with strings that attach, and with strings that play when stroked by belle and beau in love of a syncopation, a song that fills a sailor’s sail and makes the wind a chatterbox.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. A great recapsulation of my text, Doug. I quite enjoy these responses; they leave language in such a strain, one can start to see where there is magnitude. Where there is core, and gravity.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh, it’s indescribable, truly. The spanish guitar may not be as complex as some other aspects of spanish culture, but I do believe that is precisely why it coalesces so well with the rest; it takes the adequate amount of space to never saturate yet always add to the experience of being in Spain.
      The experience itself is, well, beautiful, which is a word is use as rarely and as acutely as I would a word like lacustrine or lenticular.

      Like

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