#Carlos José Moreno

[weirdlookindog]

La horripilante bestia humana (1969) - Italian poster

AKA Night of the Bloody Apes: Horror and Sex; Gomar: The Human Gorilla

[cinemaquiles]

Uma história real: "Os sobreviventes dos Andes" (1976)

[mundillotaurino]

Mercato taurin : Ginés Marin, Manuel Escribano, Roman, José Garrido, Fernando Robleño, Sergio Flores, Garcia Pulido

[onenakedfarmer]

Currently Playing

Miguel de Fuenllana ORPHÉNICA LYRA, 1554

Núria Real Carlos Mena Orphénica Lyra José Miguel Moreno

Guido Balestracci Sergi Casademunt Fernando Paz Alba Fresno David Mayoral

[thecubanartobserver]

Exposición "Suite: Generis", Colectiva

Exposición Suite: GenerisColectiva14.04.2023Fototeca de CubaLas exposiciones de “fotografía de autor” son eventos artísticos esenciales que desempeñan un papel fundamental en el fomento del talento, la difusión de la cultura y la creación de un espacio para la reflexión y el diálogo. Estas exposiciones representan una oportunidad única para que los fotógrafos muestren su visión personal y…

[cmatain]

Celebradas en Mota del Cuervo (Cuenca) las II Jornadas Cervantinas «Juan Haldudo», «Cervantes y el “Quijote”: texto, contexto y pretexto»

Los pasados días 31 de marzo y 1 de abril se han celebrado en La Tercia Real de Mota del Cuervo (Cuenca) las II Jornadas Cervantinas «Juan Haldudo», «Cervantes y el “Quijote”: texto, contexto y pretexto», coorganizadas por el Excmo. Ayuntamiento de Mota del Cuervo y el Grupo de Investigación Siglo de Oro (GRISO) de la Universidad de Navarra, con la colaboración de la Asociación de Amigos por la…

[enalfersa]

Abascal apuesta por la ‘gran coalición de españoles honrados’ frente al peor Gobierno y quienes sólo esperan a heredar

Abascal apuesta por la ‘gran coalición de españoles honrados’ frente al peor Gobierno y quienes sólo esperan a heredar El presidente de VOX, Santiago Abascal, ha ofrecido a los miles de personas que llenaban la plaza de toros de Murcia el proyecto de su partido para estas elecciones: “En VOX vamos a recoger todo esos consensos de los hombres y mujeres tranquilos, que quieren vivir en paz. Vamos…

[lacharapita]

JORGE MARAVILHA

Matias Recalt x leitora

??? - palavrões, smutizinho [sexo oral, sexo sem proteção (nem inventa), fingering...], pai da leitora não gosta de pobre, marijuanaaaa

N.A - você não goxta de mim, masss sua filha goxxxta. We love Chico Buarque. Leiam ouvindo Jorge Maravilha amém bençõe obrigada vsf tmj

          — Matias que parecia querer ser pego pelo seu pai quando ia te visitar. — "É sério, Mati! 'Cê precisa ir agora. Se meu pai acordar e ver a gente ele me deporta p'ra casa do caralho." — Você dizia, as palavras em tom baixo saiam de seus lábios mas o olhar de Matias não saía de lá.

          — "E nessa tal de "casa do caralho" eu vou poder te comer em paz?" — Seus olhos se arregalaram com o palavreado do argentino. Colocava as mãos sobre o peito dele e o empurrava pelo jardim da enorme casa em que morava.

          — "Matias, rala!" — Você disse em alguns tons mais altos do que antes. Correu de volta para dentro da casa e sorriu observando o corpo magro de Matias pulando o muro coberto de folhas verdes de alguma planta cujo o nome não fazia ideia. Na ponta dos pés, caminhou até seu quarto e se jogou na cama macia, olhando o lustre logo acima de você e sorrindo boba lembrando da formiga que tinha arrumado para te incomodar.

— Matias que era um menino simples que você conheceu quando foi "dormir na casa de uma amiga" e acabaram parando em uma pista de skate rodeadas de maconha, bebidas duvidosas e outros garotos e garotas. Estava desesperadamente procurando por um banheiro, sentia a bexiga se contorcer, caminhando com as pernas cruzadas e rezando para que encontrasse logo o que tanto queria. Lembrou claramente de quando Matias apareceu na sua frente com um cigarro de palha entre os lábios e uma cerveja na mão.

          — "Não tem banheiro aqui não, lindeza." — Ele sorriu enquanto olhava para seu rosto de desespero, quase sentiu lágrimas de formando em seus olhos quando ouviu as palavras dele. — "Tem um carro ali oh." — Ele apontou para o carro estacionado a poucos metros de distância de onde vocês estavam. — "Vai lá que eu fico de olho p'ra ninguém chegar perto." — O desespero e a dor em sua bexiga falaram mais alto, agarrou a mão do argentino de pequeno porte e o levou até que estivesse perto do carro, correu para traz do veículo e sem pensar muito puxou a calcinha pelas pernas, se agachou e suspirou alto quando finalmente pode aliviar a pressão terrível em seu ventre.

          — "Puta que pariu." — Você praticamente gemeu enquanto arrumava a calcinha preta no lugar e caminhava até o argentino. — "Obrigada mesmo, eu 'tava morrendo já." — Ele acenou com a cabeça, sorrindo para a forma como você agradecia ele.

          — "Relaxa, nena. Quer fumar um?" — Você fingiu pensar antes de responder um "sim" e seguir o moreno até um banco de pedra em que um skate estava apoiado.

          — "É seu?" — Você perguntou enquanto se sentava na rocha fria e Matias tirava o baseado do bolso na bermuda comprida, logo se sentando ao seu lado.

          — "É sim! Ele é novo, comprei não tem nem uma semana." — Ele riu, dando uma tragada enquanto admirava o brinquedo novo e te entregava o baseado.

          — Matias que naquela noite, ali naquele banco, te deu o melhor beijo da sua vida. Te colocou sentada no colo dele e passava as mãos por todas as partes do seu corpo. Quando sua amiga te chamou, avisando que já estavam indo embora, Matias te passou o número dele e fez você jurar que mandaria mensagem para ele. Entretanto o maior problema era o seu pai, um homem rico, rígido e que odiava meninos como Matias. Fez questão de proibir você de ver o rapaz quando avistou vocês dois conversando na quadra de tênis do condomínio em que você morava. Sua maior sorte era que José Carlos, um dos porteiros, era um ótimo amigo e gostava muito de Matias, então nunca contou sobre as visitas que Matias fazia a você e fazia questão de te avisar que seu pai estava voltando quando o argentino estava contigo.

          — Matias que sempre que tinha a chance provocava você sobre sua mudança de comportamento de quando estava com seu pai e de quando estava com ele. — "Tu padre não faz ideia da perrita que 'cê é hm? Gosta de levar pau até essa porra de bucetinha chorar." — O gemido que saiu de seus lábios foi abafado pela mão de Matias. Já era tarde da noite, seu pai provavelmente já estava no décimo terceiro sono e não acordava f��cil, a chuva lá fora caía em gotas grossas e pesadas enquanto Matias se enterrava dentro de você devagar. — "Posso dentro?" — O argentino sussurrou no seu ouvido, as palavras sendo um bolo de letras para você.

— "Não. Goza na minha- porra Matias! Na minha boca." — O sorriso que ele te deu foi inacreditável, se retirou de dentro de você com um gemido baixo e observou seu corpo nu se ajoelhando no chão entre as pernas dele. Seu olhar bagunçado, bochechas coradas e sorriso convencido antes de abaixar a cabeça para que a ereção dolorida fizesse caminho para dentro da sua boca, fez o cérebro de Matias derreter. Jogou a cabeça para trás e apertou os olhos com força, deixou os lábios entre abertos mas nenhum som saia dali. Sentia sua garganta se contrair quando a pontinha dele chegava no fundinho da sua boca, os lábios macios se enrolavam perfeitamente na circunferência molhada. Tirava de sua boca apenas para deixar beijinhos convencidos na cabecinha latejante. A cena final para Matias foi ver você com a boca aberta, língua razoavelmente para fora e pedindo por porra com o olhar.

— "Boquinha gostosa 'cê tem hm? Porra!" — Palavras baixas que anteciparam as cordas do líquido viscoso e esbranquiçado que atingiram sua língua e bochechas quando o argentino gozou. Você riu enquanto arrastava a pontas dos dedos pelas bochechas e levava a porra dele direto para sua boca, deixando um pop suave enquanto erguia os joelhos e aproximava o rosto do de Matias. O beijo que ele te deu foi o suficiente para tudo, as mãos dele agarravam sua cintura com força e as suas se enroscavam nos fios de cabelo dele.

          — Matias que achava uma graça o seu dengo excessivo. Invadia seu quarto durante a noite e dormia com você, de vez em quando você tinha sorte e ele te deixava ser a conchinha menor. Nesses dias de sorte os lábios dele escorriam beijos pelo seu pescoço doce, as mãos te apertavam contra o corpo magro e te aqueciam nas noites frias. Assistia filmes horríveis com você porque você gostava e então tecnicamente ele também teria que gostar. Quando seu pai viajava, aproveitavam para ficarem agarradinhos na rede que ficava no quintal da casa, abraçados, trocando carícias sinceras e na maioria das vezes acabava com ele socando os dedinhos magros dentro de você, tapando sua boca com a outra mão. — "Putinha escandalosa da porra! Assim aquele boludo do seu vizinho vai te ouvir, morena." —

          — Matias que sempre fazia questão de juntar um dinheirinho suado para comprar alguma coisinha boba para você. Ele adorava ver suas bochechas coradas e seu rosto sem graça enquanto ele te entregava a caixa de bombons e o livro que você estava procurando. — "Poxa mati, não precisava vida." — Ele sorria olhando para você, parando em sua frente com o rosto tão próximo do seu que podia sentir o calor de suas bochechas.

          — "Nena, se eu pudesse eu te daria até um pai menos otário." — você deixou um tapa no braço dele e riu. Matias deitou com a cabeça nas suas coxas, olhando para você fixamente antes de continuar falando — "Mas sério, só não te dou um planeta porque não tenho grana agora, mas quando eu tiver prometo que te dou qualquer um dos sete que tem em volta do sol." — Você se sentiu em pedaços com as palavras dele. Como podia uma alma ser tão boa e tão insuportável? A mordida que o argentino deixou na sua coxa te tirou dos teus devaneios, te fazendo gemer de dor e olhar para ele com repreensão.   

— Matias que um dia, enquanto saia da sua casa escondido, ouviu seu pai gritando com você, falando as piores coisas possíveis para você e então resolveu acabar com a palhaçada toda. — "Ai coroa, não vale a pena ficar chorando e resmungando "não não não não"." — As palavras saíram em tom de choro, Matias claramente debochando da cara de seu pai. — "'Cê não gosta de mim mas tua filha gosta e 'tá tudo certo! Quem tem que gostar de mim é ela, não o senhor." — Matias disse firmemente. Seu pai não movia um único dedo, observando seu rosto de espanto que claramente segurava uma risada. — "Sou fodido mas não sou vagabundo não. Trato a filha do senhor muito melhor do que qualquer um desses pé de galinha que tem por aqui." — Dessa vez não se conteve e um pequeno riso escapou de você. — "E se me der licença, 'tô saindo. Beijo nena." — Matias deixou um beijo em sua testa, você sussurrou um "te vejo depois" e ele apenas acenou com a cabeça. De qualquer maneira, Chico Buarque já dizia: "Você não goxta de mim, mas sua filha goxta.".

[photoarchive]

José Carlo González Moreno, Desplazados de Yalchiptic, 1998

[jordblorg]

Queen Joanna the Mad by Francisco Pradilla y Ortiz (1877); Prince Carlos de Viana by José Moreno Carbonero (1881); Execution of Torrijos and his Companions on the Beach at Málaga by Antonio Gisbert (1888); A Gypsy Woman by Raimundo de Madrazo y Garreta (1872); The Dog by Francisco de Goya (1820-1823); Two Old Men by Francisco de Goya (1820-1823); The 3rd of May 1808 in Madrid, or "The Executions" by Francisco de Goya (1814); Saturn by Francisco de Goya (1820-1823); Saturn Devouring His Son by Peter Paul Reubens (1636-1638); Manuela Isidra Téllez-Girón, future Duchess of Abrantes by Agustín Esteve (1797); The Strolling Players by Francisco de Goya (1793); The Duchess of Alba and La Beata by Francisco de Goya (1795); Vulcan's Forge by Diego Velázquez (1630)

Some personal highlights from Museo del Prado, part 1.

[nightlocktime]

A bit late but couldn't forget about them, our Paralympics delegation. They absolutely killed it. Every single one of them giving it all and making us proud.

Thank you to all of our 78 participants, 28 medalists, and 44 diplomas.

Alex Enrique Martínez Guevara, Ana Lucía Pinto Ochoa, Andrés Felipe Mosquera Neira, Angie Lizeth Pabón Mamian, Aura Cristina Poblador Granados, Bertha Cecilia Fernández Arango, Brayan Mauricio Triana Herrera, Buinder Brainer Bermúdez Villar, Carlos Andrés Vargas Villanueva, Carlos Daniel Serrano Zárate, Daniel Giraldo Correa, Daniela Carolina Munévar Flórez, Darian Faisury Jiménez Sánchez, David Felipe Rendón Acosta, Diego Fernando Meneses Medina, Edilson Chica Chica, Edwin Fabián Matiz Ruiz, Eglain Antonio Mena Lemus, Erica María Castaño Salazar, Euclides Grisales Diaz, Fabio Torres Silva, Francy Esther Osorio Calderón, Fredy Duvian López Morales, Gabriela Oviedo Rueda, Giovanny Andrés Malambo Rachez, Gisell Natalia Prada Pachón, Héctor Julio Ramírez Murcia, Ionis Dayana salcedo rodríguez, Jesús Alberto López, Jesús Augusto Romero Montoya, Jhohan Darío Ardila Cárdenas, Jhon Alexander Hernández García, Jhon Eider González Hernández, Jhon Fredy Gómez Giraldo, Jhon Sebastián Obando Asprilla, José Gregorio Lemos Rivas, Juan Alejandro Campas Sánchez, Juan David Pérez Quintero, Juan Esteban García Sánchez, Juan Esteban Patiño Giraldo, Juan José Betancourt Quiroga, Julián Andrés Jaramillo Téllez, Karen Tatiana Palomeque Moreno, Kevin Alfonso Moreno Gualaco, Laura Carolina González Rodríguez, Leider Albeiro Lemus Rojas, Leidy Johanna Chica Chica, Lino Nicolás Coca Castro, Luis dahir Arizala Ocoró, Luis Fernando Lara Rodallega, Luis Fernando Lucumí Villegas, Luis Francisco Sanclemente, María Alejandra Murillo Benítez, María Angélica Bernal Villalobos, María Mónica Daza Guzmán, María Paula Barrera Zapata, María Salomé Henao Sánchez, María Teresa Restrepo Rojas, Mariana Guerrero Martínez, Mauricio Andrés Valencia Campo, Mayerli Buitrago Ariza, Miguel Ángel Rincón Narváez, Nelson Crispín Corzo, Niver Rangel palmera, Paula Andrea Ossa Veloza, Reynel Romero Montoya, Santiago Solis Torres, Sara del Pilar Vargas Blanco, William Jair higuera Ocampo, Xiomara Saldarriaga Hernández, Yamil David Acosta Manjarrez, Yasiris Blandón Escobar, Yeferson Suárez Cardona, Yeniffer Paredes Muriel, Yesenia María Restrepo Muñoz, Yesica Paola Muñoz Nieto, Zharith Alejandra Rodríguez Silva, Zuleiny Rodríguez Trujillo

[qualcosadelgenere]

PT.2

1) Jean Baker: "Australia's strongest goalkeeper. He is the true Poseidon."

2) David Waterman: "Originally an Aussie rules player but was longing to participate in the tournament."

3) Shine Beach: "He cannot stand it when a sandy beach is dirty and picks up garbage every day."

4) Karmei Kohler: "He keeps art handed down from ancient times in Australia as a tradition."

5) Clark Cain: "Eager to protect the rare creatures that live in Australia."

6) Sully Princeton: "A genius at finding the whereabouts of rare minerals. He seems to know by just looking at the terrain."

7) Matt Angle: "Patience strengthened by spiritual discipline is the key to this player's power."

8) Surf Wyndhas: "A worldwide master at surfing. He waits for good waves to always look at the sea."

9) Niese Dolphin: "The brilliant prince of the sea. He is the man to lead Australia."

10) Reef Hamilton: "He is a master at catching tropical fish in coral reefs by skindiving."

11) Joe Jones: "Attacks at once when it comes to opportunities to quietly creep up on the opponent."

12) Quincy Horst: "He travels the wilderness still looking for a new gold mine."

13) Holly Summers: "Although he has a part-time job as Santa every year he envies the cold areas."

14) Clive Scissors: "He is good at cutting through opponents with the use of his sharp arm."

15) Daniel Barrack: "He is working hard to be the best in the world of horse meat that has been kept at his home in Australia."

16) Bruce Marlin: "Does his footwork with a spring characteristic of a kangaroo."

1) Fermin Sanchez: "Like a bull at a matador, he charges straight through the crowd to grab the ball."

2) José Costa: "He's an experienced and tenacious mountain biker."

3) Rafael López: "He's a great flamenco dancer. Girls are lining up for a chance to dance with him."

4) Antonio Galius: "He's always making sketches for abstract paintings, like Picasso."

5) Querardo Naval: "He's trained to be a matador since he was a child, but he hates hurting animals."

6) Joan Nadal: "He eats five meals a day to keep his strength up when he's travelling overseas."

7) Igor Freire: "He's an avid consumer of paella, but he's really fussy about the type of rice."

8) Mikel Pereiro: "His hobby is making sailing boats. He's assembling an invincible armada in his bathtub."

9) Pedro Moreno: "He's raising a black Iberian pig at home, in the hope of producing tasty ham."

10) Samuel Mayo: "This plucky Pamplonica dreams of one day showing his mettle at the Running of the Bulls."

11) Davi Peroqui: "He's fiercely proud of Spanish football, and doesn't hide his desire to take on the world."

12) Juan Zubeldia: "Everyone is bewitched by his virtuosic skill at flamenco guitar."

13) Isaac César: "An opportunist on and off the field. If he sees a beautiful girl, he'll try to charm her."

14) Laudelino Sastre: "Like Don Quixote, he acts rashly without considering consequences."

15) Carlos Arroyo: "He hopes to raise architectural wonders like the Sagrada Familia."

16) Federico Rubiera: "He'd like to have a go at synchronised swimming, but he can't find a boys' team."

1) Ladji Paara: "Always draws pictures in Montmartre. He wants to be called the pioneer of soccer pictures."

2) Pierre Godin: "His motto is: always play with style and grace, no matter who your rival is."

3) Miguel Arron: "Despite his appearance, this boy has a gift for French cuisine."

4) Franz Poujol: "He wants to make a building more famous than the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe in Paris someday!"

5) Kévin Pinot: "He wants to apply Napoleonic battle strategies on the playing field."

6) Laurent Pérec: "He always spends his days off relaxing at outdoor cafés."

7) Ronny Weiss: "As one of France's best boy models, he is in high demand for fashion shows and photogravures."

8) Stéphane Henno: "A young genius artist of chansons. All of his CDs are big hits!"

9) Julien Rousseau: "He likes to play with a rose clamped between his teeth. Very pretentious."

10) Jérôme Éloi: "Due to having a keen sense of smell, this person is capable of blending the best perfume."

11) Alain Failliot: "The son of a bicycle repairman. He'd like to help out at the Tour de France one day."

12) Émile Razzano: "He considers himself a devotee of French cinema and has a large collection of DVD movies."

13) André Panzo: "He likes nineteenth-century philosophy, but his friends do not understand him when he explains it."

14) Jean Jetin: "Although he has not yet made the leap to fame, this guy is a fashion prodigy."

15) Claude Moreau: "His baguettes are known throughout France. Mmm … They are delicious!"

16) Michel Morin: "He has a gift for gardening, especially if it's about cultivating life."

[jartita-me-teneis]

'Un moralista mexicano, Mario Moreno “Cantinflas”, le dijo en cierta ocasión a un señor con el que discutía: “Pero oiga, mire nomás, ¡qué falta de ignorancia!”. Cantinflas era un maestro de la paradoja, pero su broma contenía una gran verdad. Existe una cultura no escrita que se manifiesta en la memoria, la transmisión oral y el cultivo de la tradición. En el habla de todos los días. Para conocerla-Cantinflas tiene razón- hace falta un poco de ignorancia. El filósofo español José Ortega y Gasset, a principios del siglo XX, llevó a cabo una encuesta entre campesinos andaluces, que no sabían leer ni escribir, llegando a una conclusión: “¡Qué cultos son estos analfabetas!”. Lo mismo podría decirse, hoy, de muchos grupos indígenas y campesinos de indo-afro-hispano América: ¡Qué cultos son estos analfabetas! La “ignorancia” alabada por Cantinflas acaso sea sinónimo de “sabiduría” no escrita-ancestral-tradicional-. “Ignorante” para nosotros, es “sabia” en tanto cultura dicha, no registrada, memoriosa, que somos nosotros quienes la ignoramos”' Carlos Fuentes

[myimaginarywonderland]

The Full name of all the F1 drivers

RedBull: Max Emilian Verstappe

Sergio Michel Pérez Mendoza

Aston Martin: Lance Strulovitch

Fernando Alonso Diaz

Ferrari: Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc

Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro (Carlos Sainz Vázquez de Castro Cenamor Rincón Rebollo Virto Moreno de Aranda Don Per Urrielagoiria Pérez del Pulgar)

Mercedes: Lewis Carl Davidson Larbalestier Hamilton

George William Russell

Alpine: Esteban José Jean-Pierre Ocon-Khelfane

Pierre Jean-Jacques Gasly

Alfa Romeo: Valtteri Viktor Bottas

Zhou Guanyu

Williams: Alexander Albon Ansusinha

Logan Hunter Sargeant

McLaren: Lando Norris

Oscar Jack Piastri

Haas: Kevin Jan Magnussen

Nicolas Hülkenberg

Alpha Tauri: Hendrik Johannes Nicasius de Vries

Yuki Tsunoda

[docpiplup]

A century of the Order of thuggish and drunken knights: Lorca, Dalí and Buñuel partying in Toledo

Federico García Lorca was wrapped in a sheet stolen from the Posada de la Sangre – which disappeared in the Civil War and was the scene of Miguel de Cervantes's The Illustrious Mop –, drunk as a thief and with the desire to wander alone through the narrow streets of the old town of Toledo. Around him, some young hooligans laughed with the poet with noise and hubbub. This is how a Toledo man named Eduardo met the playwright from Granada during a Toledo night in the 1920s. At that moment, this kind man, seeing the panorama, tried to take Lorca to the relief house on Barco Street, but He flatly refused to accompany him. The poor man, of course, did not understand anything.

What this Toledoan, grandfather of the author of the space Toledo Olvidado, who is the one who told this anecdote, did not know is that Lorca was complying with one of the strict rules of the well-known Order of Toledo, a brotherhood of artists and writers related to the Generation of '27 and the Madrid Student Residence created by Luis Buñuel – calling himself Condestable – in the Venta de Aires de Toledo restaurant in March 1923.

This is how a century ago the streets of Toledo could not believe what was happening on its cobblestones. One hundred years since Buñuel, with his idea, managed to revolutionize the students of the Residence and the silent alleys of the old town of Toledo. Despite such famous components, the truth is that little or very little is known about this Order of Toledo. There is not much documentation available, beyond the stories of the protagonists themselves. Buñuel, the architect of this mischievous and intellectual action, dedicates an entire chapter to the Order in My Last Sigh, his autobiography written in his exile in Mexico.

A religious revelation and the smell of wine

«I am walking through the cloister of the cathedral, completely drunk, when, suddenly, I hear thousands of birds singing and something tells me that I must immediately enter the Carmelites, not to become a friar, but to steal the convent's treasury. The doorman opens the door for me and a friar comes. I tell him about my sudden and fervent desire to become a Carmelite. He, who has undoubtedly noticed the smell of wine, walks me to the door. The next day I made the decision to found the Order of Toledo," explains Buñuel in the aforementioned autobiography.

The rules of the Order of Toledo are strict and taken very seriously by its members. So much so that some of them even had a little problem or another in 1936, as the poet José Moreno Villa told us from Mexico, after the outbreak of the Spanish Civil War. "This order is a bit communist," thought some "men alien to letters and much more alien to irony"; although the truth is that there was only a hint of provocation in this crazy association. A normal thing among extravagant artists, somewhat dadaist, somewhat surrealist. «The starting point was to have fun, have a good time and get drunk. But it is true that, personally, I have always related what these young people did in Toledo with the historical avant-garde of the moment. I see it as the performances that the Dadaists did in Paris and Zurich, which were things that didn't make much sense, as Surrealism later adopted. In fact, it is worth noting that some members of this Order of Toledo were part of the Paris surrealist group, like Buñuel or Dalí himself,” explains Juan Carlos Pantoja, author of The Order of Toledo: imaginary avant-garde walks*.

Pantoja also details that, possibly, there were some precedents to Buñuel's Order of Toledo because "there was already a group of great intellectuals, among whom were Américo Castro, Alfonso Reyes, Antonio García Solalinde or Moreno Villa, who met in Toledo to walk at night and drink wine from 1917 onwards. He details that "they stayed in a rented house on Cárcel del Vicario street, in front of the Cathedral, and they became known as the gathering of El Ventanillo, due to the existence of a small window with views of the Valley. Buñuel says that he got to know Toledo accompanying Solalinde, so we can think that perhaps the Aragonese was at some point in these gatherings and that, from there, the idea of ​​doing something similar arose. Pepín Bello – who left no work, but was a friend to everyone, as gallery owner Guillermo de Osma once commented –, Rafael Alberti, Dalí, María Teresa León and Federico García Lorca and his brother, among others, were part of the Brotherhood created by way improvised by Buñuel that had something of a "poetic act", according to the poet from Cádiz. And the students of the Residence were lovers of Toledo, according to Bello in an interview in 2000:« We took the train from Madrid to Toledo, we traveled in third class and it took us two hours to arrive. We went up from the station and went to drink in the taverns of Zocodover, which was very close to the Posada de la Sangre, to get into the mood a little »

Order of Toledo: drink wine and do not shower

Courtyard of the Blood Inn

Among the rules of the Order of Toledo, and which Buñuel said with his Calanda crudeness, was that of not washing or showering "while the visit in this Holy City lasted." They had to go to Toledo once a year, watch over Cardinal Tavera's tomb, love Toledo above all and, of course, "wander, especially at night, through the wonderful and magical city of the Tagus," according to Alberti. "Those who preferred to go to bed early could not qualify for the rank of knight, little more than the title of squire," explains Buñuel in his autobiography. Furthermore, Pantoja details, "each of the members had to contribute ten pesetas to the common fund for accommodation and food and to go to Toledo as frequently as possible and put themselves in a position to live the most unforgettable experiences." Bello points out, recalling Toledo's adventures in an interview, that "we stayed at the Posada de la Sangre because we were students and it was difficult for us to sleep for just one peseta. Of course, it was a place of dubious cleanliness, where mainly muleteers stopped with their animals. The poet María Teresa León, in her book Memory of Melancholy, also remembered that this inn “had little rooms with just one bed. There, Rafael [Alberti], that night we didn't talk about El Greco, but we did talk about bedbugs. Toledo bedbugs! Toledoan night! I turned on the light. How well Rafael slept with his chest crossed by hundreds of little animals frantically searching for the hiding place of poetry!

Alberti precisely explains in The Lost Grove that "the brothers left the inn when the cathedral clock struck one, a time when all of Toledo seems to narrow, become even more complicated in its ghostly and silent labyrinth" and also relates in detail how He experienced firsthand his initiation into the Order of Toledo, with some fear at not knowing anything about the labyrinthine streets of Toledo.

«We went out into the street, carrying all the brothers, except me, hidden under the jacket, the sleeping sheets, taken out quietly. The poetic act was going to consist of bringing to life an entire theory of ghosts in the atrium and plaza of Santo Domingo el Real. After weaving and unweaving steps between the deep crevices of sleeping Toledo, we ended up at the convent at a moment when its defended windows lit up, filling them with veiled songs and monkish prayers. While the monotonous prayers went on, the brothers, who had left me alone at one end of the square, covered themselves with the sheets, seeming slow and distanced, white and real ghosts from another time. The suggestion and fear that I began to feel were increasing, when suddenly, the dressed visions appeared, shouting at me: 'This way, this way!', sinking into the narrow alleys, leaving me - one of the worst tests I have ever faced. the novices were subjected – abandoned, alone, lost in that frightening winding of Toledo, without knowing where I was and without the possibility of someone showing me the way to the inn, in addition to not finding a single passerby at that point in the night, in Toledo, if they don't inform someone every 30 meters, you can consider yourself lost definitively. At dawn I found the Posada de la Sangre, and I went to sleep, happy with my first adventure as an initiate into the mysteries of the Toledo order,” Alberti recalled years later. Food and comedy at Venta de Aires

Members of the Order of Toledo, at the Venta de Aires

In Toledo, the members of this order ate, explains Buñuel, "almost always in taverns, such as Venta de Aires, on the outskirts, where we always ordered tortilla on horseback - with pork -, a partridge and white wine from Yepes." . There, in this sale, the friends performed for the first time Don Juan Tenorio, by José Zorrilla, dressed in improvised costumes, where we see that Buñuel is dressed as a parish priest, an irreverence with respect to the church and the double standards of its members that We will always see them reflected in their films. «With regard to this, this relationship between artists and religion, Max Aub told the anecdote that while walking through Toledo they found a Virgin in a niche on the street, it could be the one still located on Alfileritos Street, although it is not documented, that Dalí began to pray in a devout and tender manner, but suddenly began spitting at her angrily and insulting her. He went from one thing to another in an incomprehensible way, once again showing off his surrealist thinking," explains Pantoja.

Alberti says that also on the walls of the Venta de Aires, the brothers of the Order had left the mark of their art. «Under the arbor, the patio of our banquet, the main brothers were portrayed in pencil on the whitewash of the wall. Its author, Salvador Dalí, was also among them. Someone told the innkeepers not to whitewash them, that they were worthy works by a famous painter and that they were worth a lot of money. Despite the warning, years later they no longer existed. They had been erased by new owners of the sale," explains the poet. After eating, they returned to Zocodover, always on foot, making "an obligatory stop at the tomb of Cardinal Tavera, sculpted by Berruguete. A few minutes of contemplation in front of the recumbent statue of the cardinal, dead of alabaster, with pale and sunken cheeks, captured by the sculptor one or two hours before the putrefaction began," adds the filmmaker.

Fisticuffs with the cadets of the Military Academy

Upon returning to the old town, the Order even experienced some fights with the cadets of the Toledo Military Infantry Academy, after some of them rudely complimented María Teresa León, an anecdote that she herself tells. «At I don't know what time, just when we were visiting some taverns to balance with so much church, we came face to face with a group of uniformed boys, who turned to me and said: 'Blonde, I would eat you with suit and with everything'. Buñuel rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and when he saw him advance, the boys ran out so as not to commit themselves to Aragon, a region where the insults are harsher. They caught up with them and, after several punches, the cadets were defeated. A neighbor handed us a jug: 'Drink, drink. These cadets always making a fuss!' Meanwhile, she licked her lips with pleasure because the civilians had beaten the military, those boys are always on the hunt for Toledoan girls," León said.

Rafael Alberti and María Teresa León, poets of the Generation of '27 and members of the Order of Toledo

A confrontation with the military that Buñuel also remembers, although in a somewhat less refined way than the poet. The film director explains in his memoirs. «The cadets were really scary. One day we came across two of them and grabbing María Teresa, Alberti's wife, by the arm, they told her: 'How horny you are.' She protests, offended, I go to her defense and knock down the cadets with my fists. Pierre Unik comes to my aid and kicks one of them. There were seven of us and the two of them, we did not boast. We leave and two civil guards who had seen the fight from afar approach, instead of reprimanding us, they advise us to leave Toledo as soon as possible, to avoid the revenge of the cadets. We don't pay attention to them, and for once, nothing happens».

The Order of Toledo in Tristana

This entire Order of Toledo is reflected in Tristana, the film that Buñuel would shoot here in Toledo. Pantoja defends that "he winked at his youthful adventures, with Catherine Deneuve wandering the streets and visiting Cardinal Tavera, and bringing his face closer to him, which is one of the great images of the film." «That Order of Toledo laughed at everything, nothing was taken too seriously. They laughed at art, like the futurists did, who advocated burning museums and libraries, and they did everything, in addition, in a groundbreaking way. Their lives, without a doubt, were pure avant-garde," concludes Pantoja.

* I have scans of this book, I am planning to publish them here on Tumblr on a series of posts

[wearemilan]

MILAN 2001-02 (serie A) – 4.o posto

Presidente: Silvio BERLUSCONI

Allenatore: Fatih TERIM, poi Carlo ANCELOTTI

• Sebastiano ROSSI, Manuel César RUI COSTA, Mohamed SARR, Massimo DONATI, Kakhaber KALADZE, José Vitor ROQUE JUNIOR

• JAVI MORENO, Cristian BROCCHI, Andrea PIRLO, Thomas HELVEG, Alessandro COSTACURTA

Altri giocatori:

Christian ABBIATI, Demetrio ALBERTINI, Massimo AMBROSINI, Ibrahim BA (*), José Antonio CHAMOT, Francesco COCO (*), Cosmin CONTRA, Ümit DAVALA, Gennaro GATTUSO, Filippo INZAGHI, José MARI, Vital KUTUZOV, Martin LAURSEN, Paolo MALDINI, SERGINHO, Andrij SEVČENKO, Marco SIMONE

(*) Coco in prestito al Barcellona da agosto, Ba all’Olympique Marsiglia da settembre