The beautiful Spanish poet, playwright and writer, Federico Garcia Lorca, was born in Fuente Vaqueros, Granada, on the 5th June 1898. 116 years ago last Thursday. The life and work of this writer has touched me since I first came across his concept of duende as a teenager studying theatre at Glasgow University. Duende. What a powerful concept, process, lived experience. What a vibrant and terrifying feeling.
‘All that has dark sounds has duende.’
As Lorca goes on to explain:
‘Those dark sounds are the mystery, the roots that cling to the mire, that we all know, that we all ignore, but from which comes the very substance of art…the duende is a force not a labour, a struggle not a thought…The true struggle is with the duende.’
The duende. Forever on the knife-edge between life and death. Precarious and dangerous and vital. The duende. The essence of Federico Garcia Lorca, born on the 5th of June, 1998. The duende. Forever the duende.
‘Ya no me encontraron.
No me encontraron?
No, no me encontraron.’