Pep Llambías: "When I take a rose out of the vase to draw it, sometimes I think I hear it shriek"

PalmaThe rose that the artist Pep Llambias (Alaró, 1954) has made for ARA Balears and that will be at all the Sant Jordi stalls in Palma is not, by any means, the first one he has made. The thorn of a rose, in fact, was one of the main protagonists of the exhibition with which he filled the Llotja de Palma 20 years ago. “I am very attracted to the duality it symbolizes”, he acknowledges, and states that he has some planted in the yard of his house.

You have made a very realistic, very delicate rose, and with thorns.

— What most catches my attention about roses is this duality they have. How they combine fragility and beauty with the thorn and all the double meanings that this generates. And that even though I, who am asthmatic, can even be bothered by the smell of the rose, yet, despite that, I smell it. It is a flower that has been used a lot, from a romantic and sentimental point of view, and that is present when you are born, when you die, and when you want to give a gift. But I like it most when it wilts.

Why?

— In the last exhibition I held at the College of Architects there was a piece called The wait, which consisted of 50 roses, one next to the other, which were wilting, as if they were waiting for something. And I'm not talking about romantic love, I'm talking about the end of the world, about waits that you don't know where they will lead you. Now that I think about it, it's true that the rose is an element that is usually there, that I include, also recently.

Another element that is usually present in your work is the word. On the ARABalears rose, you have written “the wait is the paper rose”.

— It's a sentence I read many years ago, I don't remember where, but that has always caught my attention and has to do with what we were saying. I say that I make drawings to think, which means that to understand what I mean with each element I have to get to know it, I have to take it apart. As if it were a surgeon, who to know the human body touches it, opens it and operates on it. Well, in the same way, I have to go through these phases to get to distinguish what I mean in a concrete, concise way. I say what you see, nothing more.

With the rose it is difficult not to say everything that has already been said, isn't that right? It is a flower loaded with meanings that come from very far back.

— From very, very long ago! But I, above all, like the beauty of the rose on the rose bush. I have some in the yard of our house and when I take one out of the basket, to draw it or paint it, sometimes I think I hear it scream, because it's sorry to be snatched away. Perhaps that's why they have their thorns, right? I pricked myself with one, a thorn, for the cover of the catalog we made for the exhibition at La Llotja in 2006. Everything was meticulously calculated, to see that drop of blood falling from the finger. It causes rejection and at the same time speaks of fragility, and all this generates beauty. Always with this duality.

This rose is your contribution this year to Sant Jordi, a festival deeply rooted in Palma, a city with which you have very strong ties: not only are you the author of the famous sculpture bearing the city's name located on the Sagrera promenade, but you have also been the herald of the Estendard festival.

— It was quite a surprise, this business of the proclamation, I was very pleased, really. I wanted to review everything that Palma has given me, as one is already of an age that allows for this kind of review. [Laughs]

And what has Palma given you?

— Besides friendships and emblematic places, I would say it has enriched me greatly from a cultural point of view. I lived in Alaró and when I was young I went to Palma, where I grew in many ways, also culturally. It gave me new eyes. I got to know galleries, artists, museums, gastronomy… I have learned a lot thanks to Palma.

What does it feel like to know that a piece of yours is one of the most photographed elements in the city?

— When they tell me, I feel joy and happiness, but if not, I don't think about it. I know it has become, unintentionally, an emblematic piece, and I am very happy that it is so, because, moreover, the word 'palm' has other connotations besides the name of the city. Then I thought of palm trees and Palma, but now, for example, I also think of its connection with the soul. But as I say, I'm not very aware of it. When I walk by there, I see that there is always someone taking a photo with it, and I am delighted. Now, perhaps it's time to repaint it, as it has faded a bit.