Translated from Spanish:
Two defensive towers—the Martello Tower and the Torre de la Plata (the latter located next to Antonio Rivero’s house). Two rivers dividing the cities: the Liffey and the Guadalquivir. Guinness and Cruzcampo. Grilled pork kidneys and kidneys in sherry sauce. Dublin and Seville. James Joyce and Antonio Rivero Taravillo. Today is Bloomsday—Leopold Bloom’s day. The day of Ulysses.
An unexpected setting for a surprising and timely celebration: the spacious area hidden behind the narrow stone entrance of the Notarial Archives on Seville’s Calle Feria. It is a former church—secularized in 1835—that remains from an old 16th-century Dominican convent. Handsome wood-and-glass display cases house the books of Antonio Rivero Taravillo. The Andalusian Notarial College (which manages the Archives) decided to honor him on this Bloomsday—the first one without him—organizing the event through Francisco Aranguren, director of its Cultural Center, with the participation of Teresa Merino, Antonio Rivero’s widow. There, one finds his novels, translations, poetry collections, and travelogues—an overwhelming body of work that truly reveals its full scope when viewed together. One of the cases displays the Estación Poesía journal collection—a University of Seville publication edited by Rivero Taravillo—where, thanks to Antonio, I had the good fortune to publish several of my own poems across various issues.
Antonio Rivero Taravillo was the driving force behind Bloomsday in Seville. As you know, every June 16th—the day the action of Ulysses unfolds—the protagonist’s journey is commemorated, and typical Irish recipes featured in that groundbreaking novel are recreated; these include the aforementioned grilled kidneys and the Gorgonzola cheese and mustard sandwich that Leopold Bloom enjoys at Davy Byrnes’ pub during lunch. Rivero—who has a close connection to the Emerald Isle and has translated the works of James Joyce and other Irish writers—brought Joyce into his own novel, 1922, in which he brilliantly and exhaustively portrays the Irish author’s world within the literary Paris of that era.
This connection is reflected in the poster announcing today’s celebration—created by artist Manuel Ortíz—and in the exhibition that will be open to the public. Incidentally, the posters created over the years for Seville’s Bloomsday are magnificent—such as those from 2000 and 2016, also by Manuel Ortíz, which are included in the exhibition. These were years when the celebration would conclude at the much-missed Flaherty’s pub on Calle Alemanes. Alongside the posters, the exhibition features works by various other artists, including paintings, photographs, and reproductions of newspaper articles.
The event began with remarks from the Dean of the Andalusian Notarial College and Francisco Aranguren, followed by a poem by Rivero Taravillo—dedicated specifically to the Martello Tower—which was read by Teresa Merino in a way that deeply moved us all. After a guided tour of the exhibition, the proceedings continued—as is customary for this annual celebration—with readings of various chapters from Ulysses by multiple readers in several languages, including Latin. Fittingly, the celebration concluded at the nearby, century-old Bar Vizcaíno, where we enjoyed—if not pints of Guinness—some of the best glasses of Cruzcampo in the city.
