The raw power and lament of Federico García Lorca's writing, the unabashed passion and plaintive music of his words, demand nothing less than a personal response from all who encounter them. During the past few months, when friends asked me what I
was working on, Lorca's name was invariably met with an immediate "Ah..." Everyone, it seemed, had a Lorca story, often accompanied by a thunderbolt. This was true for our contributors: musicologist and musician Ned Sublette, whose invocation opens this issue; novelist and playwright Jessica Hagedorn, who leads us through the fever dream
of Spain; and writer and professor Azar Nafisi, who peels back the layers of political and personal metaphor in Lorca's play, The House of Bernarda Alba.
There is a beautiful synergy in the themes and variations of these pieces. The poet Philip Levine's wrenching solo accompanies novelist Jaime Manrique's evocation of Lorca's years in New York. Novelist Ernesto Mestre-Reed explores our undeniable fascination with the despotic Bernarda Alba. The spirit of a young Salvador Dalí and a hopeful Lorca reaches across decades in letters filled with hubris and desire.
Inspiration, longing, tyranny and tragedy weave in and out of these pages, making an essential music that we hope pays homage not only to the brilliance of Lorca but to the intense percussion and keening wails of Michael John LaChiusa's exciting and uncompromising new musical, Bernarda Alba. In his interview, LaChiusa speaks of locating the heartbeat of his characters so as to know each woman's distinctive rhythm. Here, now, we give you the heartbeat of the man who continues to influence and inspire
so many artists today, Federico García Lorca.- Deborah Artman, Editor
MY SPAIN
As a child, I spent my summers in a small village in the hills of Mallorca, Spain. Franco was still alive then, and my mother was once stopped by the police for wearing a skirt that was too short. We had no television or telephone. I did have a beautiful pair of flamenco shoes that were red with white polka-dots. I tried to convince my mother to get me the matching dress, too, but to no avail.
It wasn't until I spent six months living in Mallorca in 1990 working on my own art that I realized how much Spanish culture had influenced my life. As an artist, I work primarily in collage, and in Spain my focus shifted from the playful pop themes of previous years to the passion and drama of bullfighters and flamenco dancers.
Finding great collage material was easy. The local stores were still stocked with books and postcards from the sixties. And in Barcelona, which was nearby, there was a flea market that sold only used books and paper ephemera. I found the image of the woman on our cover therean old photograph in a stack on a table. Her face continues to mesmerize me and I place her often in my work. I call her my favorite girl.
Most of the art found in this issue comes from my personal collection. It is a great joy for me to share my Spain with the readers of this magazine. - Tamar Cohen, Art Director
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