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A barbarian in Barcelona

 

© Antonio Beneyto 2012

© Images: oils by Beneyto

© Henri Michaux picture, múltiple, seen by Beneyto 2009

© Translation from French: Norberto Gimelfarb 2009

© Limen: Jaime D.Parra 2009

© Post-Limen: Carlota Caulfield 2012

© English translation: Carlota Caulfield in collaboration with Stacy McKenna 2012

 

 

© HakaBooks.com 2012

Diputación 319, ático - 08009 Barcelona

books@hakabooks.com

 

Publishing and Design: HakaBooks.com

 

ISBN-13: 978-84-15409-55-7

 

 

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

 

www.HakaBooks.com

 

 


Antonio Beneyto

A BARBARIAN IN BARCELONA

 

Limen

Jaime D. Parra

 

Post-Limen

Carlota Cauldfield

 

 

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Content

LIMEN

Beneyto, on Brueghel’s Back

POST-LIMEN

Setting up the tone of Antonio Beneyto’s A Barbarian in Barcelona

A Barbarian in Barcelona

A Postist in the Gothic Quarter

August 1998

The top hat and the panties

At a different time

The crow

La Bicha (I)

La Bicha (II)

Instructions for using a straight razor

On the train

Marieke Van den Branden

Summer solstice

The gouache

The Chinese ink

Anonymous Self-portrait

Notes to the Post-Limen

About Antonio Beneyto

About the translators

 




OILS
BENEYTO




LIMEN

Beneyto, on Brueghel’s Back

This morning when I left the house, I bumped into a snake making his way down the sidewalk. He had muscular arms and red and green geometrical patterns on his back and belly; he almost took up the entire street. I lifted up the central arch of his back and walked underneath. Like a silken train, the reptile continued on his way, and I on mine. There wasn’t even an exchange of interrogating glances.

Then I headed towards a quiet place to read books by Eduardo Chicharro and to tell you what Beneyto’s Postismo was like. I flipped through pages and dates, and at one point the blank paper I had been staring at flew off like doves towards the coffee drinkers that had gathered hastily there.