There are experiences, in life, works of art, relationships, friendships, movies or novels, loves or connections, that at the time they captivated you and that, over the years, you not only contemplate as the remains of a shipwreck, but you even end up hating with the same intensity that you had invested in wonder and the cultivation of passion. It is the famous ‘odi et amo’ of Catullus, but not simultaneously, but consecutively. Why is this happening? The poet admits that he does not know, “but I feel that it is so.” And it is tortured. Perhaps it is not necessary to go to those extremes. Just time passes and the fascination wears off.
It is what I perceive with the gigantic sculptures of Jaume Plensa. Where I saw a delicate exercise, a magnificent combination of minimalism and ambitious engineering, now I see empty bombast. I confirm this with this Carlota who asks New York (and the world) for silence and who demands attention to the “soul of the water”, which is the origin of all things. It will be highly praised and photographed and will be integrated into the sentimental scenery of the city, but It seems like a colossal soulless occurrence to me. I think Ferrater was right: “Days vary and our senses change.”