The great mystery
The mystery of beauty (art) and the mystery of life (religion) are not so far apart. Or perhaps they are one and the same? What is the meaning of beauty and what is the meaning of life? This is something some humans ask themselves (we ask ourselves), while others simply dedicate themselves (we dedicate ourselves) to enjoying the beauties of life. Carpe we sayAnd there are still those who reject the question: they find it anti-modern. Religion? "From chewing on it so much, perhaps we no longer feel it, but creation "It's a religious word. If it has had unspeakable importance in the history of thought and art, it's because its root appears in the first verb of the Latin version of the Bible." Raül Garrigasait writes: in the essay Rock and Air: Art and Religion by Llull at Tàpies (Fragmenta), so deservedly praised.
Today everyone wants to be creative in the kitchen and in football. Shapes, ideas, actions, stories. Divine or Faustian (they always want more), they give us unique perspectives, as the romantic Friedrich would say, a pure spiritual nature. Francisco Pujols quotes: "If in the age of religious belief there were those who feigned belief, now, in the age of religious disbelief, there are those who feign disbelief."
Without knowing it, there are many capellan-eaters endowed with great creative force. Scientific reason has made us obedient and credulous, while codified religions, so dogmatic, have scared away magic and made us unbelievers. "But everything is a gift whose origin we do not know. If we examine its origin, it dissolves. The self-satisfaction of modern convictions.
His journey from the Kabbalah and Llull to Tàpies is an erudite and creative journey through the Catalan history of understanding the world: air (imagination) and rock (matter). All force: Schelling conceived it. Llull, the sensible fool, seeks the sacred. Isabel de Villena We jump into the enchanted world, into Maragall's "rhythmic throbbing of the universe." In the Nabi ofIn Carner, the author finds "a hospitable form with the madness of life" and in Mompou, "silent music," an oxymoron inspired by Saint John of the Cross.
And so we come to Tàpies and the avant-garde as a return to traditional art, "an operation," says Garrigasait, "with magical and utilitarian ends, more imaginative than imitative, more collective than individual, with a trembling veneration for the presence of matter." A Tàpies whom Llull encounters in his father's library and who, at the age of 18, breaks with the Church to freely become spiritual, material, symbolic, and political, looking toward the East and returning to his immediate roots, from the Franciscans to the mystics and alchemists. And he creates his museum: museums as temples and guardians of profane creation, of religion without faith. "Authentic revelation can only be the destruction of religion," says Garrigasait, referring to the Swiss theologian Karl Barth. And what about literature? "Writing is doing two jobs at once: that of guardian of tradition and that of architect of difference. The tension of the Museum is within each book, also within the book itself." We end with Tàpies: "We Catalans are lucky. We can be progressive and traditional at the same time [...] Our true tradition has always been a sense of freedom."