La cua per veure-la és enorme, no s’acaba mai. Se sap que hi és però pocs l’han vista en directe. Potser ni existeix, el seu somriure enigmàtic podria ser una llegenda urbana que es repeteix de pantalla a pantalla, una fotografia d’una altra fotografia que després circularà per Whatsapp, Facebook o qualsevol altre eina digital. Comencen a quedar enrere aquells anys en què es podia contemplar una obra d’art (quadre, pel·lícula, concert, obra de teatre, etc.) sense que cap pantalla luminescent aparegués tard o d’hora en el nostre camp de visió grapejant la nostra experiència sensorial, el nostre record d’aquella obra d’art. Shakespeare, ser o no ser, més una trucada perduda. La Gioconda entre un bosc de píxels aliens. Potser quan passi aquesta fal·lera tornarem a refiar-nos de la pròpia memòria, aquella que en ocasions falla, però que la majoria de vegades ens aporta el retrat més complet, la d’aquell moment magnífic en què el temps, les imatges, les emocions, totes les sensacions van convergir en un instant. Aquell que fins no massa l’única manera que teníem de compartir-lo era evocant-lo tot dient “Te’n recordes?”.
English version
There’s an endless queue to see it. Its existence is known but very few have seen her live. Maybe she does not exist, her enigmatic smile could be an urban legend repeated from screen to screen, a snapshot of another snapshot to be posted on WhatsApp, Facebook or any other digital tool. They begin to seem quite distant in time, those years where a work of art (a painting, a film, a concert, a play, etc.) could be seen without any luminescent screen appearing eventually in our vision field, tampering our sensorial experience, the memory of that artwork. Shakespeare, to be or not to be, plus a missed call. The Gioconda in a forest of alien pixels. Maybe when this madness is over we will trust again on our own memory, the one that occasionaly fails us, but most of the times it gives us the most complete portrait of all, that magnificent moment in which time, images, emotions, all sensations converged in a single point. That moment which not much ago the only way we had to share it was evoking it by saying "¿Do you remember?".
English version
There’s an endless queue to see it. Its existence is known but very few have seen her live. Maybe she does not exist, her enigmatic smile could be an urban legend repeated from screen to screen, a snapshot of another snapshot to be posted on WhatsApp, Facebook or any other digital tool. They begin to seem quite distant in time, those years where a work of art (a painting, a film, a concert, a play, etc.) could be seen without any luminescent screen appearing eventually in our vision field, tampering our sensorial experience, the memory of that artwork. Shakespeare, to be or not to be, plus a missed call. The Gioconda in a forest of alien pixels. Maybe when this madness is over we will trust again on our own memory, the one that occasionaly fails us, but most of the times it gives us the most complete portrait of all, that magnificent moment in which time, images, emotions, all sensations converged in a single point. That moment which not much ago the only way we had to share it was evoking it by saying "¿Do you remember?".
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