"I don't want to belong to any club that will accept people like me as a member." Groucho Marx en Groucho and Me (1959).

miércoles, 1 de mayo de 2013


Daniel García estuvo donde yo debería haber estado anoche si la memoria no me hubiese pasado una jugada tan descortés. Me escribe este mensaje que atesoro: "Acabo de volver de la presentación de anuario en un lento y bamboleante 116 cuya luz mortecina me permitió, a pesar de todo, leer tu nota. Me gustó mucho, y gracias por la parte que me toca".
Y además halla un artículo excepcional sobre esta entrada que es, a fin de cuentas, el principio de la nota que escribí sobre su muestra para Anuario. Pone: "Sobre las pinturas de Hitler, aquí hay una linda nota".
Cita en particular el final: " The Williams show rebuts the comfortable sentiment that Hitler was a "failed artist." In fact, once he found his métier, in Munich after the First World War, he was masterly, first as an orator and then as an all-around impresario of political theatre. He was also deluded. He had no vision of the future apart from ever grander opera. He met his end —which, as a deep-dyed Wagnerian, he might have anticipated but apparently did not—as a quivering wreck of the boy who had been so awed by imperial Vienna. A photograph in the Williams show catches a puffy Führer in his last days, as Berlin lay in ruins, gazing rapturously at a tabletop model of Linz, which he envisioned as the cultural center of Europe, remade as a modern Valhalla. It is an appalling image, which suggests that the Second World War was incidental to a downtown redevelopment project. Rothschild, in a wall text, draws this moral from her show: "The union of malevolence and beauty can occur; we must remain vigilant against its seductive power." I disagree. We must remain vigilant against malevolence, and we should regard beauty as the fundamentally amoral phenomenon that it is."