Federico Garcia Lorca was executed by Spanish fascist 80 years ago today - shot twice in the arse for being queer.
The Indepedent takes you on a tour of his hometown, Granada.
I've been in his bedroom.
Showing posts with label LOrca. Show all posts
Showing posts with label LOrca. Show all posts
Friday, 19 August 2016
Wednesday, 8 January 2014
Elvis Presley: Happy Birthday!
Labels:
Elvis Presley,
LOrca
Tuesday, 11 December 2012
Raymond Briggs: Happy Christmas
“The idea was clean, nice and silent. I don’t have happy endings. I create
what seems natural and inevitable. The snowman melts, my parents died,
animals die, flowers die. Everything does. There’s nothing particularly
gloomy about it. It’s a fact of life.
"I’m not a fan of Christmas, although I support the principle of a day of feasting and presents, but the anxiety starts in October: how many are coming? Are they bringing grandchildren? How long will they stay?"
Radio Times.
Lucid simple genius, as ever from Raymond - and a very nice pink shirt, too.
"The artist is always an anarchist" - Lorca.
"I’m not a fan of Christmas, although I support the principle of a day of feasting and presents, but the anxiety starts in October: how many are coming? Are they bringing grandchildren? How long will they stay?"
Radio Times.
Lucid simple genius, as ever from Raymond - and a very nice pink shirt, too.
"The artist is always an anarchist" - Lorca.
Labels:
LOrca,
Raymond Briggs,
Snowman
Saturday, 12 May 2012
Lorca: Duende
'The most elusive word
in the Spanish language is duende. Like a
breeze or moonlight, it is more easily
experienced than explained. In stories, it means simply an imp or
goblin, or a
poltergeist-like force that disturbs the spirit of a house. But it runs
much
deeper than that; duende is almost a
blood-type.
Someone who has it in their veins is likely to be creative, fey,
prescient,
spontaneous, captivating, maybe melancholic, volatile.
Or none of these. One of duende's
charms is that just when it seems grasped, it slips away like a trout;
makes a
chord change; turns quick as a small child from laughter to tears. But
if you
had to pin just one name to this bewitching faculty, the name would be
Federico
Garcia Lorca.'
Rod Usher.
I went to your house, I went to where I think you were killed, and took a plant to make it grow.
Someone thought it was a weed and threw it out.
"The artist is always an anarchist."
Duende - the darkness - surrounds us, laughing like the imp of the perverse while we slowly die.
• A new Lorca archive has been found, inspiring some new rumours.
Rod Usher.
I went to your house, I went to where I think you were killed, and took a plant to make it grow.
Someone thought it was a weed and threw it out.
"The artist is always an anarchist."
Duende - the darkness - surrounds us, laughing like the imp of the perverse while we slowly die.
• A new Lorca archive has been found, inspiring some new rumours.
Labels:
LOrca
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