[:de]Erweiterte Biographie[:en]Extended biography[:es]Biografía extendida[:]

[:de]

Aaron Keydar: riddles in the form of sculpture

titel


It was the fourth day of the Six Day War (5-10 June 1967) in Jerusalem and the Israeli soldier Keydar Aaron saw nothing black and red scarves. There were no Jordanians in meters separating the group of the Kotel (Wailing Wall). The road was easy, but could not advance without first evacuating a wounded Keydar of Kita. Suddenly, the Israeli side resounded an engine. Salvation appeared, approached the jeep would be a rapid transport for the wounded. But the commanding officer, a rabbi, he refused to go to the hospital. He had another mission: to reach the Kotel and make a Jewish prayer for the first time since 1948. Aaron could still hear the historic Keydar jeep away as he watched his friend’s blood. Another religious life was marked Keydar. The father, an emigre who came to Libya rabbi, subjected to a rigid education to a child, aged twelve, lost her mother. Keydar Aaron, the youngest of eight children, fleeing the oppression of the wandering father Tel Aviv. It was a street kid prank and mischief, came the call from the police to the family Keydar. Nothing irreparable, theft of fruit, but enough so that one of his brothers grasped that the future of the small Aaron did not go through the rabbi’s religious training.

At 14 he was sent to Kibbutz Yad Mordechai, where he learned to live by giving all that possible and getting just enough. Studying in the morning and afternoon working at over 200 head. At night, he slept with other boys and girls in a house, apart from the elderly, following the theories of coexistence of the Mossad Hinuchi. Without private property, no salary, but with dreams. If the time came, they aspired to live up to the adults who resisted heroically during the battle Kibbutz Yad Morchedai, in the War of Independence in 1948. There was no girl in the kibbutz resign at 18 to enlist in the elite corps of Tsahal. In the case of Aaron were Tzanjanim, the paratroopers. But after Israel’s victory, peace was sacked. The conquered territories, far from serving to reach an agreement with the Arabs, fell into the hands of the powerful among the victors.Sharm El Sheik, grew from a small enclave in the desert to a town on vacation. For West Bank, were rubbing their hands builders. The war was won for the Israelis. What Israelis? For me, it says Keydar. Lived through the war without living but when finished, he locked himself in his apartment in Tel Aviv three consecutive months. This time not recall having suffered insomnia or remorse. Nor have joined the cheering, nor have felt pride in the flags hanging on the streets. Since the end of the war, failed to bind its own history, the ideals acquired in the kibbutz, with the results of the struggle in Jerusalem. I did not understand the enrichment and funerals born to a single action, let alone that he had taken sides in this. He realized that a man is truly a man if not misled, if not made to feel stupid. Made a decision. London. For any given night he was in London, but it was Christmas Eve 1969. Aaron’s eyes frightened the waiters who saw him enter. His eyes still shine psychotropic issued. His clothes were marked dirty to get dirty as a traveler of LSD floating through Hampstead Heath, a London park that combines waves of grass with trees speakers. He dined starter, main and dessert on the table as instructed, away from other customers. He paid good tip and leaving the waiter’s expression became so deluded as his. Everything was going well. He earned a lot of money in the architectural firm where he worked. And then there was London, which London. At the end of the sixties was a vibrant, free, which are expanded at the same time a lot of revolutions. Sexual, peace, morals, music. Keydar was mounted in the hippie wave and surfed on it until he reached the shore. A bank of fine sand, clear waters and breath of thyme. No tar, without aspirin. In silence. Keydar had discovered, in the western Mediterranean, the Eden. And are supposed expulsion from paradise, but not dropouts. The island had a phone but chose to send a telegram imaginative about a disease that would keep away from the architectural firm for a while. Only travel to England to collect his things. It was 1971 and the landscape since then has been to Formentera. South of Formentera, January 2010. It recognizes the Israeli house of the old Mercedes. At the door, a web of fabrics and plastics. It is his workshop, which protects from the weather a crown of six feet in diameter holes as a Gruyere. Wood that when touched, gives the idea of haunting hours polishing. A sculpture is to Keydar two to six months of work. But with several conditions. There is no deadline, or dealer to be content, not critical to be bribed. Neither fixed incomes.Only search logs respectable and negotiate your purchase with the farmers. Without much explanation, everyone knows that the raw material of a work of art is more expensive than wood. So it is in winter sunlight hours and cool in summer. Keydar rescues the life of the dead trees. Poke the wood without hurting her, part of the process by which fragments of juniper, olive, juniper and almond, show their humanity.His relationship with this material was born more than 30 years, after a spree at the legendary Fonda Pepe, the epicenter of travelers, chimeric and Vietnam deserters who roamed the island. Returning home, the youth stole a stump of the entrance of a restaurant. Adding legs would be a great wooden table. But the legs would not support such a weight: the trunk fell and broke. The hours and the silence of the island, which combined made a buzz too dry, did the rest. An impulse, Keydar plunged into the stump with what I had on hand, a hammer, a knife. Got more tools and worked with different sized chisels, gouges, mace and then sanded and polished until exhaustion.And in the wood, there was a face. It was his first sculpture. In 1989, when he learned he would be father, he received another unexpected news. For the main church of Formentera, the diocese entrusted to him, a Jew, the representation of Jesus on the cross. He accepted, was a challenge: sculpting, had always been guided by the forms of wood but now it should take exactly where he wanted. There could be abstract forms. He set to work and he, who came from a culture that does not represent their god, began to feel weight on your hands. Hands should shape the most, to the divine.Not that he was a believer, had had enough with a rabbi father. But since childhood he had not faced god, even if the god of the others. I was afraid, I worked with fear. When he began to have «something», the olive piece broke in two and a curse. Started again.He worked the trunk for hours, then walked away, looked at him and wondered if there was anything there. Keydar was used to raise the same question and the wood was never disappointed with his answers. But now it was their own judgment and the respondent did not answer. He called the priest of the island to oversee their progress.But Father Toni shrank again and again. He had to give the nod and was as terrified as Keydar. Finally, both lived the moment in the workshop. Toni’s father served. The sculptor holds the garnet sheet that covers Jesus Christ. It uncovers a stretch, as would a magician. The priest fixed his gaze on the body of Christ and Aaron in the face of the priest. Finally, the chaplain removed gesture and made a smile. In Keydar emanates a relief that will feed up to end the final nail in Jesus Christ. One day in December 1989 with her newborn son in her arms, sitting on the bench that the Mayor and after the Civil Guard, attended, the church of Sant Francesc, the consecration ceremony of the sculpture. Inside, he lived his own consecration. They were fat years, seven as in the Bible. In 1996 he was accused of drug trafficking. Instead of friends found their buyers back and disappeared. Newspapers no longer published photographs of his sculpture in the hands of Juan Carlos de Borbon. Now his name appeared in the crime news. The prison was in a shock but not the sound of your radio connected all day silent the silence around him. And as it did at other times, Keydar left. But this time it was up to no wave. Buki welcomed him, an old friend from London, now living in Tel Aviv. Buki and Aaron would be with his family until he was hired. He was 53 years, took a year to find a job as a carpenter. Later, Buki tell that during those months, Aaron feared a fatal decision to take his own life. The work was in the hostel at kilometer 101 of the road connecting Jerusalem with the southern Eilat. In the desert of Negev. With temperatures up to 50 degrees, Aaron arranging furniture in exchange for a roof and a plate, a little more. Over the months, brought out some artistic flare repairs. It was very well received by the boss put a shop and sold the pieces of Aaron to tourists. He began to feel someone again. After two years he returned home again, Formentera. Today, 66, lives alone in the country home he could re-rent. Subminister continues without electricity but now looks more solar panels on the roof. Aaron Keydar, Sephardic Jews, who began his journey from across the Mediterranean, to return to the land of their ancestors. By which the Rolling Stones played sixty, which have been sincere caresses sculptures in Germany, Italy and the United States. He has been in the war, in prison and had a son. He passed for motherless son of a rabbi, rancher, soldier, bohemian, architect and carpenter before becoming a sculptor. A life like a stump that is broken several times, but never to break. Fighting rain, axes and salt. And it becomes a tree that guides the chisels of various sizes, club and Dogfish, to show his humanity. A riddle in the form of sculpture.[:en]

Aaron Keydar: riddles in the form of sculpture

titel


It was the fourth day of the Six Day War (5-10 June 1967) in Jerusalem and the Israeli soldier Keydar Aaron saw nothing black and red scarves. There were no Jordanians in meters separating the group of the Kotel (Wailing Wall). The road was easy, but could not advance without first evacuating a wounded Keydar of Kita. Suddenly, the Israeli side resounded an engine. Salvation appeared, approached the jeep would be a rapid transport for the wounded. But the commanding officer, a rabbi, he refused to go to the hospital. He had another mission: to reach the Kotel and make a Jewish prayer for the first time since 1948. Aaron could still hear the historic Keydar jeep away as he watched his friend’s blood. Another religious life was marked Keydar. The father, an emigre who came to Libya rabbi, subjected to a rigid education to a child, aged twelve, lost her mother. Keydar Aaron, the youngest of eight children, fleeing the oppression of the wandering father Tel Aviv. It was a street kid prank and mischief, came the call from the police to the family Keydar. Nothing irreparable, theft of fruit, but enough so that one of his brothers grasped that the future of the small Aaron did not go through the rabbi’s religious training.

At 14 he was sent to Kibbutz Yad Mordechai, where he learned to live by giving all that possible and getting just enough. Studying in the morning and afternoon working at over 200 head. At night, he slept with other boys and girls in a house, apart from the elderly, following the theories of coexistence of the Mossad Hinuchi. Without private property, no salary, but with dreams. If the time came, they aspired to live up to the adults who resisted heroically during the battle Kibbutz Yad Morchedai, in the War of Independence in 1948. There was no girl in the kibbutz resign at 18 to enlist in the elite corps of Tsahal. In the case of Aaron were Tzanjanim, the paratroopers. But after Israel’s victory, peace was sacked. The conquered territories, far from serving to reach an agreement with the Arabs, fell into the hands of the powerful among the victors.Sharm El Sheik, grew from a small enclave in the desert to a town on vacation. For West Bank, were rubbing their hands builders. The war was won for the Israelis. What Israelis? For me, it says Keydar. Lived through the war without living but when finished, he locked himself in his apartment in Tel Aviv three consecutive months. This time not recall having suffered insomnia or remorse. Nor have joined the cheering, nor have felt pride in the flags hanging on the streets. Since the end of the war, failed to bind its own history, the ideals acquired in the kibbutz, with the results of the struggle in Jerusalem. I did not understand the enrichment and funerals born to a single action, let alone that he had taken sides in this. He realized that a man is truly a man if not misled, if not made to feel stupid. Made a decision. London. For any given night he was in London, but it was Christmas Eve 1969. Aaron’s eyes frightened the waiters who saw him enter. His eyes still shine psychotropic issued. His clothes were marked dirty to get dirty as a traveler of LSD floating through Hampstead Heath, a London park that combines waves of grass with trees speakers. He dined starter, main and dessert on the table as instructed, away from other customers. He paid good tip and leaving the waiter’s expression became so deluded as his. Everything was going well. He earned a lot of money in the architectural firm where he worked. And then there was London, which London. At the end of the sixties was a vibrant, free, which are expanded at the same time a lot of revolutions. Sexual, peace, morals, music. Keydar was mounted in the hippie wave and surfed on it until he reached the shore. A bank of fine sand, clear waters and breath of thyme. No tar, without aspirin. In silence. Keydar had discovered, in the western Mediterranean, the Eden. And are supposed expulsion from paradise, but not dropouts. The island had a phone but chose to send a telegram imaginative about a disease that would keep away from the architectural firm for a while. Only travel to England to collect his things. It was 1971 and the landscape since then has been to Formentera. South of Formentera, January 2010. It recognizes the Israeli house of the old Mercedes. At the door, a web of fabrics and plastics. It is his workshop, which protects from the weather a crown of six feet in diameter holes as a Gruyere. Wood that when touched, gives the idea of haunting hours polishing. A sculpture is to Keydar two to six months of work. But with several conditions. There is no deadline, or dealer to be content, not critical to be bribed. Neither fixed incomes.Only search logs respectable and negotiate your purchase with the farmers. Without much explanation, everyone knows that the raw material of a work of art is more expensive than wood. So it is in winter sunlight hours and cool in summer. Keydar rescues the life of the dead trees. Poke the wood without hurting her, part of the process by which fragments of juniper, olive, juniper and almond, show their humanity.His relationship with this material was born more than 30 years, after a spree at the legendary Fonda Pepe, the epicenter of travelers, chimeric and Vietnam deserters who roamed the island. Returning home, the youth stole a stump of the entrance of a restaurant. Adding legs would be a great wooden table. But the legs would not support such a weight: the trunk fell and broke. The hours and the silence of the island, which combined made a buzz too dry, did the rest. An impulse, Keydar plunged into the stump with what I had on hand, a hammer, a knife. Got more tools and worked with different sized chisels, gouges, mace and then sanded and polished until exhaustion.And in the wood, there was a face. It was his first sculpture. In 1989, when he learned he would be father, he received another unexpected news. For the main church of Formentera, the diocese entrusted to him, a Jew, the representation of Jesus on the cross. He accepted, was a challenge: sculpting, had always been guided by the forms of wood but now it should take exactly where he wanted. There could be abstract forms. He set to work and he, who came from a culture that does not represent their god, began to feel weight on your hands. Hands should shape the most, to the divine.Not that he was a believer, had had enough with a rabbi father. But since childhood he had not faced god, even if the god of the others. I was afraid, I worked with fear. When he began to have «something», the olive piece broke in two and a curse. Started again.He worked the trunk for hours, then walked away, looked at him and wondered if there was anything there. Keydar was used to raise the same question and the wood was never disappointed with his answers. But now it was their own judgment and the respondent did not answer. He called the priest of the island to oversee their progress.But Father Toni shrank again and again. He had to give the nod and was as terrified as Keydar. Finally, both lived the moment in the workshop. Toni’s father served. The sculptor holds the garnet sheet that covers Jesus Christ. It uncovers a stretch, as would a magician. The priest fixed his gaze on the body of Christ and Aaron in the face of the priest. Finally, the chaplain removed gesture and made a smile. In Keydar emanates a relief that will feed up to end the final nail in Jesus Christ. One day in December 1989 with her newborn son in her arms, sitting on the bench that the Mayor and after the Civil Guard, attended, the church of Sant Francesc, the consecration ceremony of the sculpture. Inside, he lived his own consecration. They were fat years, seven as in the Bible. In 1996 he was accused of drug trafficking. Instead of friends found their buyers back and disappeared. Newspapers no longer published photographs of his sculpture in the hands of Juan Carlos de Borbon. Now his name appeared in the crime news. The prison was in a shock but not the sound of your radio connected all day silent the silence around him. And as it did at other times, Keydar left. But this time it was up to no wave. Buki welcomed him, an old friend from London, now living in Tel Aviv. Buki and Aaron would be with his family until he was hired. He was 53 years, took a year to find a job as a carpenter. Later, Buki tell that during those months, Aaron feared a fatal decision to take his own life. The work was in the hostel at kilometer 101 of the road connecting Jerusalem with the southern Eilat. In the desert of Negev. With temperatures up to 50 degrees, Aaron arranging furniture in exchange for a roof and a plate, a little more. Over the months, brought out some artistic flare repairs. It was very well received by the boss put a shop and sold the pieces of Aaron to tourists. He began to feel someone again. After two years he returned home again, Formentera. Today, 66, lives alone in the country home he could re-rent. Subminister continues without electricity but now looks more solar panels on the roof. Aaron Keydar, Sephardic Jews, who began his journey from across the Mediterranean, to return to the land of their ancestors. By which the Rolling Stones played sixty, which have been sincere caresses sculptures in Germany, Italy and the United States. He has been in the war, in prison and had a son. He passed for motherless son of a rabbi, rancher, soldier, bohemian, architect and carpenter before becoming a sculptor. A life like a stump that is broken several times, but never to break. Fighting rain, axes and salt. And it becomes a tree that guides the chisels of various sizes, club and Dogfish, to show his humanity. A riddle in the form of sculpture.[:es]

Aaron Keydar: acertijos en forma de escultura

titel

Era el cuarto día de la Guerra de los Seis Días (5-10 de junio de 1967) en Jerusalén y el soldado israelí Aaron Keydar no veía más pañuelos negros y rojos. Ya no había jordanos en los metros que separaban a su grupo del Kotel (muro de las lamentaciones). El camino era fácil, pero no podían avanzar sin antes evacuar a un herido de la Kitá de Keydar. De repente, del lado israelí resonó un motor. Aparecía la salvación, el jeep que se acercaba sería un transporte rápido para el herido. Pero el oficial al mando, un rabino, se negó a dirigirse hacia el hospital. Tenía otra misión: llegar al Kotel y hacer una plegaria judía por primera vez desde 1948. Aaron Keydar todavía oía el histórico jeep alejarse mientras contemplaba la sangre de su amigo. Otro religioso había marcado la vida de Keydar. El padre, un emigrado de Libia que llegó a rabino, sometió a una rígida educación a un niño que, con doce años, perdía a su madre. Aaron Keydar, el menor de ocho hermanos, huía del agobio del padre vagando por Tel Aviv. Fue un chico de calle y de travesura en travesura, llegó la llamada de la policía a la familia Keydar. Nada irreparable, un robo de fruta, pero lo suficiente para que uno de sus hermanos captase que el futuro del pequeño Aaron no pasaba por la formación religiosa del rabino.

Con 14 años fue mandado al Kibbutz Yad Mordechai, donde aprendió a vivir dando todo lo que le fuese posible y recibiendo sólo lo necesario. Estudiando por la mañana y trabajando por la tarde al cargo de 200 reses. Por la noche, dormía con el resto de chicos y chicas en una casa propia, aparte de los mayores, siguiendo las teorías de convivencia de la Mossad Hinuchi. Sin propiedad privada, ni sueldo, pero con sueños. Si llegase el momento, aspiraban a estar a la altura de los mayores que resistieron heroicamente en el kibbutz durante la batalla de Yad Morchedai, en la Guerra de Independencia de 1948. No había joven en el kibbutz que a los 18 renunciase a alistarse en los cuerpos de elite del Tsahal. En el caso de Aaron fueron los Tzanjanim, los paracaidistas. Pero tras la victoria de Israel, la paz fue saqueada. Los territorios conquistados, lejos de servir para llegar a un acuerdo con los árabes, cayeron en manos de los poderosos de entre los vencedores. Sharm El Sheik, pasó de ser un enclave insignificante en el desierto a una ciudad de vacaciones. Por Cisjordania, se frotaban las manos los constructores. La guerra se ganó para los israelíes. ¿Para qué israelíes? Para mí, no -dice Keydar-. Vivió la guerra sin vivirla pero cuando acabó, se encerró en su apartamento de Tel Aviv tres meses seguidos. De esta época no recuerda haber sufrido insomnio ni remordimientos. Tampoco haberse unido a los vítores, ni haber sentido orgullo ante las banderas colgadas en las avenidas. Desde el fin de la guerra, no lograba enlazar su propia historia, la de los ideales adquiridos en el kibbutz, con los resultados de su lucha en Jerusalén. No entendía el enriquecimiento y los funerales nacidos de una sola acción y menos aún que él hubiese tomado partido en ello. Comprendió que un hombre es verdaderamente un hombre si no es engañado, si no es obligado a sentirse estúpido. Tomó una decisión. Londres. Para él era una noche cualquiera en Londres, pero era la nochebuena de 1969. La mirada de Aaron asustó a los camareros que lo vieron entrar. Sus ojos todavía emitían brillos psicotrópicos. Sus ropas estaban señaladas de ensuciarse como se ensucia un viajero de LSD flotando por Hampstead Heath, un parque londinense que combina olas de césped con árboles parlantes. Cenó primer plato, segundo y postre en la mesa que le indicaron, alejada del resto de la clientela. Pagó dejando buena propina y la expresión del camarero se tornó tan alucinada como la suya. Todo iba bien. Ganaba un montón de dinero en el despacho de arquitectos en el que trabajaba. Y luego estaba Londres, qué Londres. A finales de los sesenta era un espacio vibrante, libre, en el que se expandían al mismo tiempo un montón de revoluciones. La sexual, la pacifista, la moral, la musical. Keydar se montó en la ola hippie e hizo surf sobre ella hasta que llegó a la orilla. Una orilla de arena fina, con aguas cristalinas y respiraciones de tomillo. Sin alquitrán, sin aspirinas. En silencio. Keydar había descubierto, en el Mediterráneo occidental, el edén. Y del paraíso se suponen expulsiones, pero no abandonos. En la isla había un teléfono pero prefirió enviar un imaginativo telegrama sobre una enfermedad que lo retendría lejos del despacho de arquitectos un buen tiempo. Sólo viajaría a Inglaterra para recoger sus cosas. Era 1971 y su paisaje, desde entonces, ha sido el de Formentera. Sur de Formentera, enero de 2010. Se reconoce la casa del israelí por el viejo Mercedes. Ante la puerta, un tinglado de telas y plásticos. Es su taller, que resguarda de la intemperie una especie de corona de casi dos metros de diámetro agujereada como un gruyère. Madera que al ser tocada, da la idea de las obsesionantes horas puliendo. Una escultura supone a Keydar de dos a seis meses de trabajo. Pero con varias condiciones. No hay fecha límite, ni marchante al que contentar, ni crítico al que sobornar. Tampoco ingresos fijos. Sólo buscar troncos respetables y negociar su compra con los payeses. Sin demasiadas explicaciones, todo el mundo sabe que la materia prima de una obra de arte va más cara que la leña. Así pasa en invierno las horas de sol y en verano las frescas. Keydar rescata la vida de los árboles muertos. Hurga la madera sin herirla, participa del proceso por el que fragmentos de enebro, olivo, sabina o almendro, muestran su humanidad. Su relación con este material nació hace más de 30 años, tras una juerga en la legendaria Fonda Pepe, epicentro de viajeros, quiméricos y desertores del Vietnam que erraban por la isla. Volviendo a casa, los jóvenes robaron un tocón de la entrada de un restaurante. Añadiéndole unas patas, sería una estupenda mesa de madera. Pero las patas no quisieron soportar tal peso: el tronco cayó y se rompió. Las horas y el silencio de la isla, que combinados hacían un zumbido demasiado seco, hicieron el resto. De un impulso, Keydar se sumergió en el tocón con lo que tenía a mano, un martillo, un cuchillo. Consiguió más herramientas y trabajó con escoplos de diferentes tamaños, formones, la maza y finalmente lijó y pulió hasta la extenuación. Y en la madera, surgió una cara. Fue su primera escultura. En 1989, cuando se enteró que sería padre, recibió otra noticia inesperada. Para la principal iglesia de Formentera, el Obispado le encargó a él, un judío, la representación de Jesús en la cruz. Aceptó, era un reto: esculpiendo, siempre se había dejado guiar por las formas de la  madera pero ahora debería llevarla exactamente donde él quería. No cabían las formas abstractas. Se puso a trabajar y él, que provenía de una cultura que no representa a su dios, empezó a sentir peso en las manos. Manos que debían dar forma a lo máximo, a lo divino. No es que fuese creyente, ya había tenido bastante con un rabino de padre. Pero desde la infancia no había vuelto a enfrentarse a dios, aunque fuese el dios de los otros. Sentía miedo, trabajaba con miedo. Cuando empezó a tener “algo”, la pieza de olivo se partió en dos como una maldición. Volvió a empezar. Trabajaba el tronco por horas, después se alejaba, lo miraba y se preguntaba si había algo ahí. Keydar estaba acostumbrado a plantear esa misma pregunta y la madera nunca lo había defraudado con sus respuestas. Pero ahora era su propio criterio el interrogado y no contestaba. Llamó al sacerdote de la isla para que supervisase sus evoluciones. Pero el padre Toni lo rehuía una y otra vez. Él tenía que dar el visto bueno y estaba tan aterrorizado como Keydar. Al fin, ambos vivieron el momento decisivo en el taller. El padre Toni atiende. El escultor sujeta la sábana granate que cubre a Jesucristo. De un tirón lo destapa, como lo haría un mago. El cura fija su mirada en el cuerpo de Cristo y Aaron en la cara del cura. Al fin, el capellán desmonta el gesto y compone una sonrisa. En Keydar emana un alivio que lo alimentará hasta acabar con el último clavo de Jesucristo. Un día de diciembre de 1989, con su hijo recién nacido en brazos, sentado en el mismo banco que el alcalde y el cabo de la Guardia Civil, asistió, en la iglesia de Sant Francesc, a la ceremonia de consagración de la escultura. Por dentro, él vivía su propia consagración. Fueron años de vacas gordas, siete, como en la Biblia. En 1996 fue acusado de tráfico de estupefacientes. En vez de amigos encontró espaldas y sus compradores desaparecieron. Los periódicos ya no publicaban fotografías de una escultura suya en manos de Juan Carlos de Borbón. Ahora aparecía su nombre en la crónica negra. Lo de la prisión quedó en un susto pero ni el rumor de su radio conectada todo el día callaba el silencio absoluto que lo rodeaba. Y como ya hizo otras veces, Keydar se marchó. Pero esta vez no iba subido a ninguna ola. Lo acogió Buki, antiguo amigo de Londres, que ahora vivía en Tel Aviv. Aaron estaría con Buki y su familia hasta que lo contrataran. Tenía 53 años, tardó un año en encontrar un trabajo de carpintero. Más tarde, Buki contaría que, durante esos meses, temió que Aaron tomase una decisión fatal con su propia vida. El trabajo era en el parador del kilómetro 101 de la carretera que une Jerusalén con la meridional Eilat. En medio del desierto del Negev. Con temperaturas de hasta 50 grados, Aaron arreglaba muebles a cambio de un techo y un plato, poco más. Con los meses, sacó a relucir algún destello artístico en sus reparaciones. Fue muy bien recibido por el jefe: le puso un taller y vendía las piezas de Aaron a los turistas. Empezaba a sentirse alguien otra vez. Al cabo de dos años, volvió de nuevo a su casa, Formentera. Hoy, con 66 años,  vive solo en la casa payesa que pudo volver a alquilar. Continúa sin subministro eléctrico pero ahora luce más placas solares en el tejado. Aaron Keydar, judío sefardí, que empezó su viaje desde el otro lado del Mediterráneo, para volver a la tierra de sus ancestros. Por el que tocaron los Rollings de los sesenta, por el que se han hecho sinceras caricias a esculturas en Alemania, Italia o Estados Unidos. Ha estado en la guerra, en la cárcel y ha tenido un hijo. Ha pasado por ser huérfano de madre, hijo de rabino, ranchero, soldado, bohemio, arquitecto y carpintero antes que ser escultor. Una vida como la de un tocón que se quiebra varias veces, pero nunca hasta partirse. Lucha contra la lluvia, las hachas y la sal. Y llega a ser un madero que guía los escoplos de diferentes tamaños, la maza y las lijas, hasta mostrar su humanidad. Un acertijo en forma de escultura.[:]