Aracena is a Spanish town etched into the memories of many Dark Angels, along with its big city neighbour Seville. Covid interrupted our visits, but they soon continued. It still meant that la finca el tornero, on the edge of Aracena, became the venue most visited in Dark Angels history.
That was until this year, when we lost our annual reason to visit Aracena, a particularly beautiful and interesting part of Spain. I missed it.
I missed it but was lucky enough to stay in touch with Alberto Germàn, whose sculpture studio we had visited in small groups of Dark Angels. Each year we were freshly inspired by Alberto, his hands placed on one of his sculptures as he spoke to us in his gentle style of English. A spiritual man, he spoke about the soul of creative craft. To celebrate ten years of Dark Angels in Aracena, we commissioned Alberto to create a sculpture that would stand at the gates of the finca.
When Alberto saw that I had written a book of poetry inspired by Berlin, he contacted me. “Come to Seville,” he wrote. “and be inspired to write poetry about Seville.” Of course, I accepted the invitation so, in May 2025, I wandered the streets, gardens and buildings of Seville with Alberto, walking and talking.
The outcome was another book of poetry Seville: Shadows & Light. I had written a long poetic sequence divided into seven parts, structured like a lingering Spanish meal, beginning with tapas. Alberto illustrated the poems with exquisite watercolours, and Paekakariki Press published it with their traditional craft and care.
A year later another invitation arrived. First, to talk to Alberto’s sculpture students in Seville (where he is professor of fine arts at the university). Second, to take part in Aracena’s autumn literary festival by talking about and reading from my Seville poems. It was an amazing experience, one I wrote about afterwards in an essay for the Madrid Review.
Of course, while in Aracena, we paid a visit to the finca to see Alberto’s sculpture, ageing gracefully and welcoming new visitors. It felt a bit like coming home, but actually knowing that this place, however dear to me, would never be home. But it would always have a special place in my heart.