Chronicle of an era

The first time I held Brisas magazine in my hands was in the library of La Misericordia. At the time, I never dreamt that I would one day start my own magazine, IN PALMA.

Because I always make a note of the exact date on which I purchase all my books, I know that it was in 1999 that I read the novel Mort de Dama [Death of a Lady], by Palma-born writer Llorenç Villalonga. My fascination with this book, but above all with its author, led me to acquire other titles by him: the novel Bearn, a compilation of letters and articles (Cartas y Artículos) written by Villalonga, and the compilation of unclassifiable notes Pousse-Café, compiled by the writer José Carlos Llop.

And Pousse-Café, precisely, is the name of the section that Llorenç Villalonga penned, under the pseudonym of “Chop”, in nearly all of the 27 issues of Brisas that came into being between April 1934 and July 1936, the month and year when the Spanish Civil War broke out – an event which, along with many other endings, also brought about the closure of this publication that was so very much before its time.

But let us go back to the beginning, in the early nineteen-thirties, when Europe was enjoying days of champagne and roses and life was shaping up to be one long party. A period when Mallorca started to fill up with foreign aristocrats with bombastic titles, blonde beauties from the north, exquisitely perfumed swindlers and hapless artists who lent a unique hue to the nights of Palma and El Terreno, whether in parties at luxurious villas overlooking the sea, or among the shadows of the fashionable nightclub, Trocadero. “The modern air is corrupted. Certain drugs are advertised in the voluptuous magazines, and are the favourite essence of artistes and other cocottes demimondaines. The night keeps its countenance concealed, but not because it is dark. The black market joins with silver cigarette cases, the adventure with anthropological traits merges with rigorous etiquette, espionage fuses with the ivory skin of the most select prostitution”, José Carlos Llop writes of that period.

Llorenç Villalonga studied medicine and practised as a psychiatrist at the Clínica Mental Jesús for a time, convinced that this discipline would reveal the answers surrounding the existential mystery of human beings he was so desperate to find. Failing to do so, he devoted himself to writing books.

Fairly well-travelled for a young Mallorcan of the day (Madrid, Barcelona, Paris), and extremely learned, Villalonga was chosen by the Catalan entrepreneur Antonio Pàmies to run the new magazine he had in mind. Devoid of any sense of shame, Villalonga himself acknowledged that he “wanted to make a refined magazine, intended for a snobbish, elegant and frivolous audience”.

Although it may not seem like much to the general public today, 70 years ago Brisas was an avant-garde, illustrated magazine with a luxury format that broke new ground in the cocooned society of Mallorca which could finally see, on its coated paper pages, what all those “strange” people who had come to town one fine day, and who barely showed themselves in daylight hours, actually did.

“In Brisas,” Villalonga said, “as in all elegant magazines of that day and age, there were tips on beauty and how to behave, society news, agony aunt items, party reviews, fashion, inventions and diverse commentaries”.

Some of the magazine covers are authentic works of art. It was printed at the Imprenta Vich in Inca, now long gone, and the great portraitist Gaspar Rul·lan was director of photography. In it, we can find poems by Federico García Lorca, articles by Aldous Huxley, drawings by Pablo Picasso. The fascination with American films and the actors who starred in them, with sports – in particular boxing -, with Bauhaus and Le Corbusier, and with luxury automobiles, were other hallmarks of the magazine. As for the advertising pages, today we are brought up short by the openly sexist tone of many of them, something that was seen as natural back then.

The first time I had the complete collection of Brisas in front of me, about fifteen years ago, I was unable to purchase it because of the price. Then, by a twist of fate, a few months ago the possibility of buying the whole set, and in good condition, came up again. This time, I did not let the opportunity slip by.

Obvious differences aside, after reading all 27 issues of the collection for weeks, I am thrilled to see how, in a way, and without trying to, IN PALMA has certain similarities to Brisas in terms of [...]

--------

Read this article in full in IN PALMA 68. And if you like, subscribe to IN PALMA for 1 year and get the next 4 issues of the magazine delivered to your home.