It's will seem no diplomatic to start in Paris with this Shakespeare drama but this will be my homage to Kenneth Branagh and - why not? - to Henry V, a king that would be able to transform the will of life to the will of death of his soldiers at Agincourt.
O
for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention,
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all,
The flat unraised spirits that have dared
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object: can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest in little place a million;
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work.
The brightest heaven of invention,
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels,
Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all,
The flat unraised spirits that have dared
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object: can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
O, pardon! since a crooked figure may
Attest in little place a million;
And let us, ciphers to this great accompt,
On your imaginary forces work.
Think
when we talk of horses, that you see them
Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth;
For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times,
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this history;
Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. (1,444)
Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth;
For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings,
Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times,
Turning the accomplishment of many years
Into an hour-glass: for the which supply,
Admit me Chorus to this history;
Who prologue-like your humble patience pray,
Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. (1,444)
Siempre
he sentido un rechazo instintivo hacia El Guernica. Nunca me lo he
podido explicar. Adoro a Picasso. Tampoco me ha importado demasiado.
Yo sigo el instinto de la tierra. No me preocupa lo que dicen ni
digan lo demás. Creo en mi. Creo en mi instinto. Y después
de ver – y oir - el “Non nobis Domine” de la magistral
adaptación del Henry V de Shakespeare por Kenneth Branagh –
una obra de arte - empiezo a entender algo. Después de ver
toda la obra primero. Henry V de Shakespeare o la guerra, empiezo a
entender algo de ese rechazo. Todavía no lo puedo explicar con
palabras pero todo se andará. No tengo prisa. De momento El
Guernica para mí es como si no existiera. Visitaré la
expo en el Reina Sofía alrededor del tema y de El Guernica
naturalmente- Evitaré ver la obra si es posible. Sólo
añadir que me impresiona más la obra de Antonio López.
Esas mujeres mirando pasar los aviones desde lo alta de la terraza.
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