Spark

Jorge Edwards. Writer. Santiago de Chile, 1931

 

There are many words I could say and even invent to describe Oscar Tusquets, the man and the work. The first one that occurs to me is ‘chispa’ (‘spark’). A spark, though small and fleeting, can ignite a fire. It therefore belongs to that Promethean family which can inspire, create but at the same time destroy. Oscar’s imagination, which is constantly being transformed into conversation, into words, is sparkling and provocative. It destroys with its critical fury and rebuilds from the ashes. It also contains an element of verbal intoxication, of an unfettered intellect flexing its muscles. It is no coincidence that in Spanish we say of someone who is inebriated that he is “achispado” (literally, “sparking”). As well as giving rise to Promethean fire, a single spark tends to become a prolonged sparkle, and as one who has come to know Oscar Tusquets thanks to our many occasional meetings, I can say that his personality is above all like a constant sparkle, with flashes of anger and punctuated by a full array of laughter, questions and exclamations. Oscar likes to lambaste clichés and silly fads, outmoded forms and rigid avant-gardes, which are more or less the same thing, and he does so in a vibrant, sparkling way. His paintings, his designs and buildings rise like fireworks: fireworks, fireplay, sparkling against the night sky.