What do a bank and Catalan Book Week have in common?
BarcelonaIf you have the chance to stop by the Disseny Hub Barcelona this weekend, you can still visit the exhibition Miguel Milán. (Pre)industrial designer, fantastic. In addition to showing iconic works by the creator (you'll want it all), it explores his life and career, highlighting a very artisanal and respectful way of working, both with materials and crafts. There's a kind of "Milan philosophy," about the whys and hows of the objects he designed, which is also very well explained through a video in which he himself appears talking to several people. My favorite moment is when he talks about benches (he designed many). "I really believe in the bench as an element of communication," said Milan. "When you're on a bench, you're forced to say good morning." It's true that the conversation might end up on a good day, and quite a lot, he also added that, but I loved that way of conceiving a bench. I left the DHUB with a book by Milan under my arm and thinking, precisely, about the Week of the Book in Catalan.
I had been there the day before, Mercè, a holiday in Barcelona. It was a beautiful day, and I found it packed. I looked at it from outside and thought it was a truly unbeatable meeting point. I'll steal the expression from Milan and call it a first-rate communication center. I loved seeing the number of conversations between passersby and editors that take place there. It's the only time a year that such a direct exchange occurs, that an editor can communicate in this way with readers, and vice versa. I like to sneak into the houses of the editors and booksellers I know and chat with them for a while, but this time it was literally impossible: they were constantly selling. The conversation with Olvido Baseiria, of Casa Anita, was happily interrupted several times. One of them was by an old man surrounded by cleaners who happily bought the books they chose.
Even at the height of this year's edition, many exhibitors told me that they thought they would surpass last year's figures, which already represented 20% more sales than the previous year. Everyone was very happy, of course, although Joan Sala, from Comanegra, declared himself "rare elderly", because he still missed the Muelle de la Madera. He also sells more at the Arc de Triomf, but finds there were more opportunities to socialize there. I'm not so sure. I continue walking, and I run into Laura Huerga, from Raig Verd. We talk to an illustrator who's there with his partner; he knows us with his partner, working together. Núria Iceta, from L'Avenç, has what they call "el guapo risido" (the handsome guy), and everyone who passes by her stand comments on it (if she reads this, she'll blush, but she'll forgive me). Jordi Panyella, from Polen, talks with the international artists who have come to Barcelona invited by the Institut Ramon Llull. Beer, a terrace, and alone, are also valid reasons to encourage translating Catalan authors. fair. I'm in. La Semana, for sure, is a huge means of communication, but its bar is perhaps even more so.
