"Am I a poet, or do I pretend to be one? It's part of a game I like to play, thinking of my work as a puzzle made up of truths and some lies that define me and that the reader builds in their mind with each poem. And the basis of that is writing with honesty and, with that same honesty, knowing when and how much to keep silent." Adrià Targa reflects on his role as a poet at the bar, having a coffee with milk after ordering a set menu. The notes of Cosí cosà by Fulminacci fill the early afternoon atmosphere of the Bar, and he has already rolled his Drum cigarette ---"the brand that, purely by chance, my best friends also smoke"--- to go out and smoke.
"At 16 I read Verdaguer and Cavafy," he names the first poets who, in some way, led him to want to express himself in verses, "and shortly after I wrote a terrible epic poem that I submitted to a contest and that almost won. The jury, and I found this out later, had been impressed by the ambition of the proposal. But they also decided that by not giving me that prize they were doing me a favor. They saw potential that could be ruined if they told me it was good. And no, it wasn't!" he laughs.
In any case, the first step had been taken and that was the basis on which, little by little, the poet developed his style, exploring his most hidden sides and playing with classic formal approaches mixed with a contemporary focus. "And also, of course, things happened to me, which is what you write about in the end."
He debuted with his first work at 19 and, just one year later, the next one came out, "a long poem about my first and unrequited love," with which he won the Gabriel Ferraté prize. "But that made me hit the brakes, and I spent five years without publishing anything until, in 2015, Ícar came out", a brief and intense poem about guilt, pleasure and the fragility of love in a gay Barcelona, "where everything is so easy, sometimes a matter of a simple exchange of glances, but at the same time so complicated, if what you want is a serious relationship and not just a brief and volatile pleasure."
Now, after several years and titles of which he is very satisfied, such as Canviar de cel, he has won the Jocs Florals de Barcelona 2024 prize with Acròpolis (Godall), "a collection of poems with which I have bared myself brutally. I define it as an emotional minefield." A versified intimacy that reflects that underlying honesty that distinguishes the poet—whose truths are concentrated, compressed, and shine in each of his lines—from the impostor.
Art yes, but in spurts
At 18, Adrià came from his native Tarragona to Barcelona to study Classical Philology. Here, in addition to writing, he made friends and became another Barcelonian. He traveled. He did an Erasmus in Italy and, after graduating, he studied two years of Stage Direction and Dramaturgy at the Institut del Teatre. That experience helped him understand what kind of life he wanted. "For those people, there was nothing more than theater. Every minute of their lives was devoted to that, but that's not what I wanted. Of course, I wanted to do an artistic activity, but I also wanted to have my life apart, and not have it be the exact synonym of my work. Art yes, but in spurts," he laughs.
After leaving the Institut, participating in the Veus Paral·leles festival, he met Gonzalo, his first steady partner, a Galician poet with whom the idyll lasted a few years and who, "today is still a great friend, as well as a poet I admire very much."
The local is close to bringing his next work, Arnau, to light.As a third step towards adulthood, the local began working as a Latin teacher in various high schools, and it continues to be the professional activity that feeds him, while he continues to write and is close to bringing his next work to light,Arnau, "with which I fulfill that youthful dream of composing a long epic poem!".
The book, of incipient publication, narrates the last 24 hours of Arnau, the author's alter ego, who plunges into a tragicomic downfall in a Barcelona of dark streets pregnant with lust, secrets, bitterness, and sarcasm.
The big town that contains different cities
Happily settled in the Raval, the parishioner lives Barcelona with a duality: "That of seeing it as a big town, where everything is close, and as a place that, a few Metro stops away, shows you different cities, because each neighborhood is a world". It is also an ecosystem where he has woven a network of friendships of which he is proud. "I love being part of a generation that includes names like Marc Rovira Urien, Eloi Creus, Pau Sabaté, or Arnau Barios."
In love with Tibidabo and the plane trees as the arboreal hallmark of the city, the poet also lives Barcelona, as reflected in his verses, as a great source of leisure. A place where many stimulating things constantly happen, "which forces you, in a way, to be young to be able to keep up with everything." He sips his coffee and, with a mischievous smile, resumes speaking to warn: "Of course, as Gaius Valerius Catullus said, leisure destroys cities."
--- And do you think that could bother you about Barcelona?
Without losing his smile, Adrià Targa categorically denies.
--- No, no! The only thing I hate about this city are its real estate agents. Idealistas, Tecnocasas... everything else, I love it!