ARTURO ALAPE
Cali, November 3, 1938 -
Bogotá, October 7, 2006, 11 pm .... Goodbye
MAESTRO ...
We are deeply saddened ...
Yet in his memory, sing and hear boleros ... ---
Cali, November 3, 1938 -
Bogotá, October 7, 2006, 11 pm .... Goodbye
MAESTRO ...
We are deeply saddened ...
Yet in his memory, sing and hear boleros ... ---
** Fourth publication (October 11, 2006) text, messages, comments, etc. after their death
* Third study (Oct. 10, 2006) can be viewed at http:/
/ arturoalape.blogspot.com/2006/10/adis-al-maestro-tercera-publicacin.html
* The second publication (October 9, 2006) can be viewed at:
http://arturoalape.blogspot. com/2006_10_09_arturoalape_archive.html
* The first publication (October 8, 2006) can be viewed at:
http://arturoalape.blogspot.com/2006/10/arturo-alape-adis-maestro-estamos.html
+ + +
OF
Daniel Samper Pizano ...
GOODBYE TO ALAPE. Arturo Alape was a great storyteller (his book Tirofijo deaths remains a classic of the genre) and the most knowledgeable historian on April 9. His death deprives us of a great storyteller, a chronicler excellent and left a man of exemplary coherence.
DE: Two months of Uribe 2: the compass lost (Fragment final)
BY Daniel Samper Pizano * cambalache@mail.ddnet.es
TIME, Oct. 11, 2006
http:/ / www.eltiempo.com/tiempoimpreso/edicionimpresa/opinion/2006-10-11/ARTICULO-WEB-NOTA_INTERIOR-3280296.html
+ + + * Third study (Oct. 10, 2006) can be viewed at http:/
/ arturoalape.blogspot.com/2006/10/adis-al-maestro-tercera-publicacin.html
* The second publication (October 9, 2006) can be viewed at:
http://arturoalape.blogspot. com/2006_10_09_arturoalape_archive.html
* The first publication (October 8, 2006) can be viewed at:
http://arturoalape.blogspot.com/2006/10/arturo-alape-adis-maestro-estamos.html
+ + +
OF
Daniel Samper Pizano ...
GOODBYE TO ALAPE. Arturo Alape was a great storyteller (his book Tirofijo deaths remains a classic of the genre) and the most knowledgeable historian on April 9. His death deprives us of a great storyteller, a chronicler excellent and left a man of exemplary coherence.
DE: Two months of Uribe 2: the compass lost (Fragment final)
BY Daniel Samper Pizano * cambalache@mail.ddnet.es
TIME, Oct. 11, 2006
http:/ / www.eltiempo.com/tiempoimpreso/edicionimpresa/opinion/2006-10-11/ARTICULO-WEB-NOTA_INTERIOR-3280296.html
ALAPE ARTURO AND THE "MEETING OF WRITERS IN Caicedonia"
Speaking at the November meeting of 2005 
Mural developed by students of the College of Our Lady Immaculate and presented in the central courtyard during the November 2005 meeting. On the back of the books are appreciated most name works Arturo Alape. (Photo: NTC MIC ... ) TO THE MEMORY OF ALAPE
For Manuel Bermúdez
Tiberio http://www.redyaccion.com/Arturo% 20Alape.htm (MATRIX: http: / / www.redyaccion.com/ )
Photo: http://www.redyaccion.com/fotos/alape.jpg
The news of the death of Arturo Alape , on Saturday 7 October in Bogotá , whose real name was Carlos Arturo Ruiz, I hit hard on the soul. Since 1998 visitor was applied every two years Caicedonia to keep the appointment that we put the organizers of The Gathering of Writers for Peace in Colombia.
We made friends with him, his way of being, their vertical positions as their life, their joy and their spicy comments called laughter. Caicedonia all, he recognized when he walked through the streets and violence marked the past you had to suffer to that piece of land Valle del Cauca. Many conservatives
cartoons made by the activity that developed during the event to relax or to congratulate those who were put between his eyes and his sketchbook.
I keep a piece I wrote when in 2000 (if I "desfechado) accompanied us to find Writers, but those who read beyond the words we say or shut up his eyes look sad. It was the last time he was in exile under pressure from violent forces lurking living in this country of violence. The text is as follows:
"We invite a second time, and then again said yes to the call for CORPOCAICA.
came loaded with thoughts, vertical position as it has always taken over his life, but you could see the sadness. Could further affect the discretion and questioned him for that sad brightness hid deep in his eyes and hinted in every sentence, every word, every smile silent that something was wrong.
with muted voice, so that the wind did not discover his fears, he said "I leave the country" does not need more words, I realized that once again the hatred of war in a country of hatred, it condemned, as so many others, exile, deportation, to flee to protect only truly valuable thing we human beings: life.
His presentation said it all for those who find the words that others huddled not watching. His presentation had the taste of a goodbye that would not give. The title: "The Poet in Exile" . Final in Alape began by pointing saying
"Scripture of Terror in Colombia, announced that writing and spread by sick minds and a barren hate, has a long history. It is a book that seeks to create in the man alluded to, the tingle of your skin when you get up with the frost of fear and his breath stirred a dull buzz becomes a worm stuck in their mouth.
is a book that handcuff the man whom it is addressed, the inertia of their own helplessness, it stirred his emotions unknown dimensions and upsets his own interiority. Fearing the man becomes a living dead to walk everyday, to disguise their body with clothes outside and different thoughts.
are many symbolic meanings Writing this perverse: representation of death that comes without announcement, the Chinese fear as drip hits the consciousness uncertainty that covers the eyes with the dark perpetual suspicion and distrust of the inner circle and loving family affections, the prelude imaginary growing hatred and revenge against an unseen enemy. "
And from the possibilities offered by condemning his conviction for us to sensed: "The voice caged in a premeditated silence again foreshadowing the announcement of the threat decreed in writing: the poet picks up the phone nervous in the hours of the morning no one answers, just listen to the purr of a cough inaudible, the poet release the device and brought uncertainty not fall asleep, the phone rings, it is raised, not answered, the other side of the line meets the ominous rumble of a cough. Try sleeping
embraced the body of his companion, who wakes up has not lost its hustle details nervous. Open eyes on the poet, leafless trees fall like hundreds of butterflies who are fleeing the dream could not catch them. He seeks refuge by crying silently dying as a monosyllabic, fragments of a poem of his, "scratchpad"
Every friend is alive in my book. / His name written there recreates my affection / printed red signs in babbling blue / dark green-key in poring slogan or line their own paradise ./... And if he gets a friend, a partner / as black beam that stiffens their steps / must clear their names of wine or doves / and so the van crossing my trembling dedos. / .Quizá he also might delete your name from your address book notes, to become invisible as a man and a presence in undecipherable arabesque, lost and crushed in small white pages. The poet has received three pamphlets with death threats, for presiding over an institution of solidarity with Cuba and the innocence of his actions and his firm, which others use as political and ideological rubble. " Grief hits us
every word, every turn verbal, each complaint that involves more than their integrity. "The symbolic representation of the Book of Terror had its gross advances in public demonstrations, for example, in the doors and windows of those who were targeted for death, painted red crosses rough. Also, the voice began to replace the written word: a boy of fifteen with acute and melodious voice gave a serenade in the early morning hours, before the house of the family chosen for the rite of collective death. And it was not by chance, the day after the family united in their blood had ceased to exist by reason of his political thinking: so simple were the results of serenade.
Then the script would crumpled papers developing a sound: that of death. The balanced pulse fingers of the murderer, after shooting with patience crossed off the names of the victims and mission accomplished, the crumpled paper returned to pocket. The official or vigilante assassin memorized the following name: the gun ready, oiled still hidden in the waistband, rested and dreamed that night. " We went
Alape and his absence hurts ... ..
For Manuel Bermúdez
Tiberio http://www.redyaccion.com/Arturo% 20Alape.htm (MATRIX: http: / / www.redyaccion.com/ )
Photo: http://www.redyaccion.com/fotos/alape.jpg
The news of the death of Arturo Alape , on Saturday 7 October in Bogotá , whose real name was Carlos Arturo Ruiz, I hit hard on the soul. Since 1998 visitor was applied every two years Caicedonia to keep the appointment that we put the organizers of The Gathering of Writers for Peace in Colombia.
We made friends with him, his way of being, their vertical positions as their life, their joy and their spicy comments called laughter. Caicedonia all, he recognized when he walked through the streets and violence marked the past you had to suffer to that piece of land Valle del Cauca. Many conservatives
cartoons made by the activity that developed during the event to relax or to congratulate those who were put between his eyes and his sketchbook.
I keep a piece I wrote when in 2000 (if I "desfechado) accompanied us to find Writers, but those who read beyond the words we say or shut up his eyes look sad. It was the last time he was in exile under pressure from violent forces lurking living in this country of violence. The text is as follows:
"We invite a second time, and then again said yes to the call for CORPOCAICA.
came loaded with thoughts, vertical position as it has always taken over his life, but you could see the sadness. Could further affect the discretion and questioned him for that sad brightness hid deep in his eyes and hinted in every sentence, every word, every smile silent that something was wrong.
with muted voice, so that the wind did not discover his fears, he said "I leave the country" does not need more words, I realized that once again the hatred of war in a country of hatred, it condemned, as so many others, exile, deportation, to flee to protect only truly valuable thing we human beings: life.
His presentation said it all for those who find the words that others huddled not watching. His presentation had the taste of a goodbye that would not give. The title: "The Poet in Exile" . Final in Alape began by pointing saying
"Scripture of Terror in Colombia, announced that writing and spread by sick minds and a barren hate, has a long history. It is a book that seeks to create in the man alluded to, the tingle of your skin when you get up with the frost of fear and his breath stirred a dull buzz becomes a worm stuck in their mouth.
is a book that handcuff the man whom it is addressed, the inertia of their own helplessness, it stirred his emotions unknown dimensions and upsets his own interiority. Fearing the man becomes a living dead to walk everyday, to disguise their body with clothes outside and different thoughts.
are many symbolic meanings Writing this perverse: representation of death that comes without announcement, the Chinese fear as drip hits the consciousness uncertainty that covers the eyes with the dark perpetual suspicion and distrust of the inner circle and loving family affections, the prelude imaginary growing hatred and revenge against an unseen enemy. "
And from the possibilities offered by condemning his conviction for us to sensed: "The voice caged in a premeditated silence again foreshadowing the announcement of the threat decreed in writing: the poet picks up the phone nervous in the hours of the morning no one answers, just listen to the purr of a cough inaudible, the poet release the device and brought uncertainty not fall asleep, the phone rings, it is raised, not answered, the other side of the line meets the ominous rumble of a cough. Try sleeping
embraced the body of his companion, who wakes up has not lost its hustle details nervous. Open eyes on the poet, leafless trees fall like hundreds of butterflies who are fleeing the dream could not catch them. He seeks refuge by crying silently dying as a monosyllabic, fragments of a poem of his, "scratchpad"
Every friend is alive in my book. / His name written there recreates my affection / printed red signs in babbling blue / dark green-key in poring slogan or line their own paradise ./... And if he gets a friend, a partner / as black beam that stiffens their steps / must clear their names of wine or doves / and so the van crossing my trembling dedos. / .Quizá he also might delete your name from your address book notes, to become invisible as a man and a presence in undecipherable arabesque, lost and crushed in small white pages. The poet has received three pamphlets with death threats, for presiding over an institution of solidarity with Cuba and the innocence of his actions and his firm, which others use as political and ideological rubble. " Grief hits us
every word, every turn verbal, each complaint that involves more than their integrity. "The symbolic representation of the Book of Terror had its gross advances in public demonstrations, for example, in the doors and windows of those who were targeted for death, painted red crosses rough. Also, the voice began to replace the written word: a boy of fifteen with acute and melodious voice gave a serenade in the early morning hours, before the house of the family chosen for the rite of collective death. And it was not by chance, the day after the family united in their blood had ceased to exist by reason of his political thinking: so simple were the results of serenade.
Then the script would crumpled papers developing a sound: that of death. The balanced pulse fingers of the murderer, after shooting with patience crossed off the names of the victims and mission accomplished, the crumpled paper returned to pocket. The official or vigilante assassin memorized the following name: the gun ready, oiled still hidden in the waistband, rested and dreamed that night. " We went
Alape and his absence hurts ... ..
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