The bull

Artist: Lorenzo Quinn

Title: «The bull»

Media: bronze

Edition: 9 copies

Size: 120 x 40 x 40 cm

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Lorenzo is a visual poet who uses sculpture to convey his ideas about concepts that are sometimes difficult to argue. He often uses hand representations to communicate these concepts.

In this work, the artist has placed two hands in a previously chosen position. The built-in light that the sculpture has, projects the shadow of a bull’s head. Something similar to the Chinese shadows.

On many occasions, Lorenzo’s works are accompanied by a text written by the artist himself that completes the work and explains his source of inspiration. However, on this occasion the chosen text is a poem by Federico García Lorca.

TEXT CHOSEN BY LORENZO QUINN:

THE BULL

At five in the afternoon.
It was exactly five in the afternoon.
A boy brought the white sheet
at five in the afternoon.
A basket of prepared lime
at five in the afternoon.
The rest was death and only death
at five in the afternoon.

The cotton swabs were taken by the wind
at five in the afternoon.
And the oxide glittered crystal and nickel
at five in the afternoon.
The dove and the panther are fighting
at five in the afternoon.
And a thigh with a 1onely horn
at five in the afternoon.
The deep chords began to sound
at five in the afternoon.
The jars of arsenic and gauze
at five in the afternoon.
On the street corners silent groups
at five in the afternoon.
And only the bull high-hearted!
at five in the afternoon.
When the cold sweat came
at five in the afternoon,
And iodine covered the ring
at five in the afternoon,
death placed her eggs in the wound
at five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
At exactly five in the afternoon.
A coffin on wheels is the bed
At five in the afternoon.
Bones and flutes sound in his ears
At five in the afternoon.

The bull was bellowing through his forehead
At five in the afternoon.
The room is rainbowed with agony
At five in the afternoon.
>From far away the gangrene comes already
At five in the afternoon.

The trumpet of the lily through green groins
At five in the afternoon.
Like suns his wounds were burning
At five in the afternoon.
And the crowd was breaking the windows
At five in the afternoon.
At five in the afternoon.
Ay, what a terrible five in the afternoon!
It was five by all clocks!
It was five in the shade of the afternoon.

Federico García Lorca
“THE GORING AND THE DEATH”
Weeping for Ignacio Sánchez Mejías