The duende…Where is the duende? Through the empty arch comes a wind, a mental wind blowing relentlessly over the heads of the dead, in search of new landscapes and unknown accents; a wind that smells of baby’s spittle, crushed glass, and jellyfish veil, announcing the constant baptism of newly created things.
--Federico Garcia Lorca, “Play and Theory of the Duende” (1933)
--Federico Garcia Lorca, “Play and Theory of the Duende” (1933)