José María Jurado: To myself

Shakespeare or Sophocles would have needed words for Moranta's tragedy, his metaphysical solitude at the center of the apotheic arena.

Beauty as I have seen it

It would take Shakespeare or Sophocles to explain Morante's tragedy in words, down to his metaphysical solitude in the center of the apotheotical arena.

Jose Maria Jurado

Everything in life has an end, except beauty, beauty is eternal, even if the eyes that look at it die, even if the artist who created it stops working.Sunday, October 12 - but what does the word “yesterday” mean today? - This is the last day in the ring for José Antonio Morante de la Puebla.Last?No: the first in the eternal series (Borges).In the memory of fans, present and not yet born, October 12, 2025 is the first act of the hero, the one that gives meaning to life, like the day of Talavera or Linares, understood by Joselito, Manolete, Belmonte in the Solitude of Gómez Cardeña.Like a radiant spring, from the previous day flows a carousel of moments, a gallery or museum of eternity, the quintessence of beauty that gives meaning to life - what else is this if not art?- and she will always accompany us, for the light at the end of the tunnel.

To put words to Morante's tragedy, Shakespeare or Sophocles would be placed in his metaphysical solitude at the center of an apothetical arena in the abode of the immortals.When the audience leads him to Alcalá Street ("How the Andalusians shine when they rise and fall") and cannot help but think of the ruins and inner torment of the soul.I couldn't do more, but I couldn't do less.I didn't know.The character is fate (Heraclitus).The fatal somersault, a trapeze artist without a net, a diver who took a crow, the fourth bull in the afternoon threw him into the abyss.If this was not the case, it was only in his fame in Guernica or in Ignacio Sánchez Mias as Joselito from the bull before he broke it, and even two afternoons one or two afternoons would matter.

Before, he has given each of his bulls for the two shains (in the quarter and the Untertenten are in release positions or in two or more places meet in the name of their country, throw life in the middle of them. Unfortunately, he does not give a stitch or receive a stitch but a string. With the golden string of bullfiteing, he only took a monument to join hands where the clamp is a room that flies.

There are many heroes without capes and then there are bullfighters.Heroes who break with the superpower to stop time, what happens in battle and in history, what happens in memory and what is recorded in action books and songs.Together with the images of Pedro Romero, Pepe-Hillo, Cúchares, Espartero, Guerra y Lagartijo, Rafael el Gallo, Joselito and Belmonte, Ignacio and Chicuelo, Manolete and Pepe Luis, Bienvenida y Ordóñez, Paula and Romero;Today, Benlliure's sculptural angels and bullfighters cut a marble medal with a living gold cartouche, the heroic and unrepeatable living coin with the marism profile of Morante de la Puebla.

And we felt like orphans, we sent a telegram - “The Bulls are over” - and we hugged the old Moviola to remember so many afternoons, such late slowness.I now want to remember the month of April in the seventh year of this century, when we saw him kneel before the gate of the Mastranza corral and offer himself in sacrifice: “Do you want my life?”Cameras with words of genius fighting misunderstandings and the elements.Recorded.It is this sacrificial side of Morante, on and off the field, that is the secret of his existence. José Antonio was, and has always been, the “existence at a distance” that Heidegger talks about.At that moment, which was resolved in a few moments by the low and powerful hand, everything was already planned: the long journey in the desert with no luck in the corals, the danger of illness, the afternoon of glory and the afternoon of gestures, the afternoon of the tail in La Maistranza, as the culmination of that projection into the future that so many will take.As was also written yesterday afternoon in Madrid, Plaza Ozan, twelve large doors on Paco Camino, eight on Diego Puerta and seven on Curro Romero were free.The square most loved by bullfighters in Seville, because Velázquez's paintings are placed in the Prado.

No one cut Ponsoil, no one let him wake up.The only real thing, like Mozart before '' What you need as an artist (but in front of you, once it's not, soon he told me before ever

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