Every great poet has, of course, been a young poet, and that is why the Llegats vivents recital, last Sunday at the Palau de la Música, is a tribute to our poetry and also to an accumulated youth. Anna Gual and Jaume C. Pons Alorda directed and presented a recital that highlights a diverse heritage and vindicates it, because, as Gual said, “sometimes the voices of the masters do not receive the recognition they deserve”. After the cellist Mariona Camats, who interpreted among poets pieces by J.S. Bach, Enric Casals and Elisenda Fàbregas, Antonina Canyelles took to the stage, who read poems with her vindictive sense of humor, and after asking: “eat, boixau and menjau peix blau”, she warned that ” I will die / and nothing will happen, / but to me it will”.
Rosa Font -“investigator of the occult and mysteries”, according to Gual-, warned that “now everything is red”, but also said that if you look “with blind eyes” you read “the silence of everything that ‘has written / without language”. Feliu Formosa read some haikus like “Need I affirm it? / I’m talking about my journey / to the darkness”, and then, before reciting Bertolt Brecht from memory, he brought back to life the poem from his Songbook that begins “You’ll do two tricks and I’ll open the door for you”. And it could well be a blues.
Biel Mesquida sang “the days of each day” and warned that she would take “the soft and aged words” and “I’ll grind them with a whetstone / until I hear them like brand new”. Francesc Parcerisas recalled that “the absolute is to dream / young joy or the future”, while Jaume Pérez Montaner presented some poems from the upcoming Abans del vers (Edicions del Buc), aware that “so many things are forgotten between mud and stone”.
Josep M. Sala-Valldaura with an “inhuman self-portrait” assures that “inside me I am the fear of a raindrop”, he who goes “with a tachycardic bundle of poems” but is clear that “you don’t need another coat / than my skin”. Olga Xirinacs remembered that there was a bomb in the garden at home, but now “the afternoon has the landscape of my years”. Laia Moretó Alvarado finished, moved, who recited the selection that her sister Elisabet made of the poems of her mother, Nora Albert, and who noted that “the look has no age”, and that perhaps yes, we will “ashes, but alive”.
There was enough anticipation to gather 600 attendees who did not want to miss it, with a good list of poets and writers such as Lluís Calvo, Àngels Marzo, Julià de Jòdar, Ivette Nadal, Joan Duran, Maria Antònia Massanet, Jordi Valls, Susanna Rafart, Carles Duarte, Pau Gener Galin, Laura López Granell, Vinyet Panyella or Eduard Sanahuja. Also the director of the ILC, Izaskun Arretxe, who is not everywhere, and journalists such as Xavier Graset, from Vila-seca. No, there weren’t many young poets who are just a few years old…
On Tuesday, at the Ona bookstore, Salvador Pané Vidal presented Hong Kong by night (Témenos) XXVII Josep Fàbregas i Capell prize. But in addition to Pons Alorda, who defined the book as “a chiaroscura gem and a genuine voice, the voice of a true ventriloquist with afflicted entrails”, remembering that Pané is not only a poet, but also a musician, but how he earns his living is as a researcher in micro and nanorobotics in Zurich. Poems are also recited by Eduard Miró, Marta Pérez Sierra, Carles Duarte and Rosa M. Arrazola, and the actor Ignasi Guasch. And in addition to Duarte and Pons Alorda I find Eduard Sanahuja, who repeats…
On Thursday we return to the poems, now at the Calders bookshop, where Lluís Calvo presents the book by Anna Enrich Paüra (LaBreu), who recites them accompanied by Adrià González’s electric guitar. Calvo talks about angels and fairies, the dislocation of language, myth, epic, magic, snakes and spiders and how “pure and harsh reality is a mystery”. Like last Sunday, there is also the publisher Ester Andorrà and total poetry fans Núria Isanda and Ferran Garcia. Enrich reads and we also feel the angels and the fear, the fear, that is there because we might not have them. Because perhaps it is necessary, as the poet says, to “accept the mystery”.
