Mondrian in the March

'Large composition A in black, red, gray, yellow and blue' (1919), by Piet Mondrian, in the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Moderna e Contemporanea in Rome.

In 1982, unexpectedly, Mondrian arrived in Madrid, to the Juan March Foundation to be more precise, a place full of surprises in those years;

the place where it was possible to meet the lesser-known avant-garde artists in a dark Madrid eager for news that many of us knew, ruled by a generation of figurative artists who, despite being in front of an

were enchanted by this wonderful and strange character , as bad a painter as a brilliant artist.

• It was for so much

• Painting like a child is an art

It was a surprise to everyone to see him up close: Mondrian on hand for a long time.

And a pleasure.

Mondrian's works have that rare beauty that escapes description;

the phantasmatic appeal - Barthes said about the essence of the photo - that turns each work of the Dutchman into an event.

Those who did not know him discovered a new passion.

Those of us who had seen him on one of our family trips had the opportunity to return to the rooms of the March —infinite times— to enjoy the prodigy in the paintings on display.

Above all, we look to understand how Mondrian is a dazzling artist;

both stripped and full, like the stories of his spiritual mentor and theosophist, Helena Blavatsky, known as Madame Blavatsky.

Perhaps because of that elusive essence, Mondrian is appreciated in the lightness of his weight over the years, because there are two Mondrian: the one who looks face to face and the reproduced;

the brilliant artist and the bad painter, with those surfaces which, in a very thoughtful way — nothing in Mondrian is left to chance — barely covers the painting.

A well-known Latin American historian told me about this a long time ago: after years of looking at the Dutchman's paintings in magazines, he was surprised by the imperfect workmanship of his brushstrokes.

Because of his contradictory and ghostly nature, you learn to love him more if possible.

Now Mondrian returns to the March, this time in its full ghostly form: an exhibition conceived for the web.

It is an intelligent strategy to play with the search for a format that does not aspire to the impossible: to show live what the physical walk requires, of presence.

And no one more suitable than Mondrian for the theosophical juggling, for the spectral journey through the life and work of this artist who, in the radical return to that 1982 exhibition, makes us spectral.

It will not be the typical virtualization, but images-narratives, mondrian games of high and low culture and, above all, a literal dance between ghosts.

Jazz or

will not be lacking

inspiring the famous Dutch oil painting.

It is the turn of the screw to digital exhibitions that for the first time seem digital to me and not the consolation prize of the many visits to museums from virtuality.

Sign up for the ghost dance on the website.

Mondrian has returned to the March.