![\"viewer\"](\"http:\/\/espairossello.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/08\/viewer1-300x258.png\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cCARPE DIEM\u201d, To Miquel Serrano<\/p>\n
In the early seventies, in that Sitges which is now a memory, I met the painter<\/p>\n
Miquel Serrano. Always, and in any circumstance, polite, charming, elegant, ironic <\/p>\n
and a smoker, a heavy smoker, a \u201cbon vivant\u201d and a drinker, preferably \u201cwhisky\u201d. A regular at the <\/p>\n
terrace of Caf\u00e9 Roy in Sitges, Caf\u00e9 de la \u00d2pera in Barcelona, and Caf\u00e9 de Flore in Paris.<\/p>\n
Companion of the Blai brothers, and of Manolo Muntanyola. He did not particularly like talking about art, and <\/p>\n
even less about his own. He had been a student of Francesc Labarta. In the 1930s, he had painted a portrait from <\/p>\n
life of the poet Federico Garcia Lorca, for the presentation of one of his lectures in<\/p>\n
Barcelona, the Grenadian historian Antonina Rodrigo mentions it in one of her books dedicated<\/p>\n
to the poet. Serrano rarely spoke of what he had done; he was a friend of Jean Cocteau, and in his apartment <\/p>\n
on Rambla Catalunya, he had some beautiful drawings of fauns that Cocteau had given him, and he also<\/p>\n
provided him with contacts in Paris, who commissioned originals for fabric printing,<\/p>\n
which allowed him to live with dignity. An unrepeatable generation. <\/p>\n
I was very pleased to learn that a significant exhibition is finally being dedicated to him in Sitges, at<\/p>\n
Espai Miramar. An exhibition curated by Beli Artigas, which brings together the best of his <\/p>\n
work, almost a retrospective. He probably would have been rather afraid of it, but deep down, <\/p>\n
he would have liked it. Yes, he would have liked it very much, because, despite everything, he was tender enough to <\/p>\n
accept it as a generous display of friendship.<\/p>\n
I saw some of his works from the 1940s or perhaps 1950s, at the home of Pepa<\/p>\n
Gum\u00e0, in Sitges, who had unique works in her collection, which now belongs to her<\/p>\n
daughters, Silvia and Marta Camps. Many \u201cSerranos\u201d were seen in Sitges, but not like those. <\/p>\n
When I organized my exhibition \u201cNeomitologia de Sitges i la Blanca Subur\u201d at the Hotel<\/p>\n
Rom\u00e0ntic, I painted the two large-format works at \u201cCa la Femenina\u201d and the rest at the studio<\/p>\n
that Serrano had in the apartment above Caf\u00e9 Roy, and which the master kindly lent me.<\/p>\n
The circumstances that led the artist to \u201ccarpe diem\u201d are unknown to me, but in a certain<\/p>\n
way, I believe it all had something of a protest against the dogmatic clutches and the<\/p>\n
laws of the market, which for some time had been gnawing at the fresh fields of art and life, from which<\/p>\n
he fled like cats flee water. For a time, we had the same art dealer, <\/p>\n
Cayetano Balaguer\u00f3, who organized several exhibitions for him. Cayetano was from Castell\u00f3 de <\/p>\n
Farfanya, Lleida, like Bernat, his cousin, friend, model, and companion of Miquel Serrano.<\/p>\n
With Miquel, anecdotes blossomed like flowers in spring. One of these is the one <\/p>\n
we experienced together with Santi P\u00e9rez, founder of Pizzeria del Cap de la Vila, on<\/p>\n
a round trip to Carcassonne, the French walled city rebuilt by Eug\u00e8ne<\/p>\n
Viollet-le-Duc. A bastion of the Cathars. Not for a party, but to help Miquel collect the <\/p>\n
belongings from his recently deceased sister’s apartment, of which he was the heir.<\/p>\n
We were accompanied by a young man, Toni Sella, who not long ago recounted this adventure<\/p>\n
in an article, titled \u201cTot \u00e9s fals,\u201d published in these very pages of L\u2019Eco de Sitges.\u201d<\/p>\n
We still all tremble just thinking about it. Serrano was nervous, very nervous, <\/p>\n
and in these circumstances, he could cause a tsunami of unfathomable consequences; he<\/p>\n
forced us to eat a \u201cMarseille casserole\u201d for breakfast. While he smoked tirelessly <\/p>\n
one cigarette after another, and after withdrawing everything from the bank vault, with the<\/p>\n
documents he himself had forged in Barcelona, to avoid paying lawyers, (Santi<\/p>\n
did not know until they were in the bank’s basement). He invited us to lunch. The fifty <\/p>\n
three towers of Carcassonne spun around us, and the double ring of the walls, of<\/p>\n
military grey stone, contributed to our terrors, and what if it all ended up in the Museum of Torture<\/p>\n
of the Inquisition? Afterwards, loaded to the brim, the car like a moving pyramid, and with<\/p>\n
pockets full of gold doubloons and jewels, which we had to distribute so that the bulge<\/p>\n
was not too obvious. Like a troop of ancient pirates (Jack Sparrow style), we crossed the <\/p>\n
border without any incident. Ugh! Unforgettable, Miquel Serrano. <\/p>\n
Josep Maria Rossell\u00f3.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cCARPE DIEM\u201d, To Miquel Serrano<\/p>\n
In the early seventies, in that Sitges which is now a memory, I met the painter<\/p>\n
Miquel Serrano. Always, and in any circumstance, polite, charming, elegant, ironic <\/p>\n
and a smoker, a heavy smoker, a \u201cbon vivant\u201d and a drinker, preferably \u201cwhisky\u201d. A regular at the <\/p>\n
terrace of Caf\u00e9 Roy in Sitges, Caf\u00e9 de la \u00d2pera in Barcelona, and Caf\u00e9 de Flore in Paris.<\/p>\n
Companion of the Blai brothers, and of Manolo Muntanyola. He did not particularly like talking about art, and <\/p>\n
even less about his own. He had been a student of Francesc Labarta. In the 1930s, he had painted a portrait from <\/p>\n
life of the poet Federico Garcia Lorca, for the presentation of one of his lectures in<\/p>\n
Barcelona, the Grenadian historian Antonina Rodrigo mentions it in one of her books dedicated<\/p>\n
to the poet. Serrano rarely spoke of what he had done; he was a friend of Jean Cocteau, and in his apartment <\/p>\n
on Rambla Catalunya, he had some beautiful drawings of fauns that Cocteau had given him, and he also<\/p>\n
provided him with contacts in Paris, who commissioned originals for fabric printing,<\/p>\n
which allowed him to live with dignity. An unrepeatable generation. <\/p>\n
I was very pleased to learn that a significant exhibition is finally being dedicated to him in Sitges, at<\/p>\n
Espai Miramar. An exhibition curated by Beli Artigas, which brings together the best of his <\/p>\n
work, almost a retrospective. He probably would have been rather afraid of it, but deep down, <\/p>\n
he would have liked it. Yes, he would have liked it very much, because, despite everything, he was tender enough to <\/p>\n
accept it as a generous display of friendship.<\/p>\n
I saw some of his works from the 1940s or perhaps 1950s, at the home of Pepa<\/p>\n
Gum\u00e0, in Sitges, who had unique works in her collection, which now belongs to her<\/p>\n
daughters, Silvia and Marta Camps. Many \u201cSerranos\u201d were seen in Sitges, but not like those. <\/p>\n
When I organized my exhibition \u201cNeomitologia de Sitges i la Blanca Subur\u201d at the Hotel<\/p>\n
Rom\u00e0ntic, I painted the two large-format works at \u201cCa la Femenina\u201d and the rest at the studio<\/p>\n
that Serrano had in the apartment above Caf\u00e9 Roy, and which the master kindly lent me.<\/p>\n
The circumstances that led the artist to \u201ccarpe diem\u201d are unknown to me, but in a certain<\/p>\n
way, I believe it all had something of a protest against the dogmatic clutches and the<\/p>\n
laws of the market, which for some time had been gnawing at the fresh fields of art and life, from which<\/p>\n
he fled like cats flee water. For a time, we had the same art dealer, <\/p>\n
Cayetano Balaguer\u00f3, who organized several exhibitions for him. Cayetano was from Castell\u00f3 de <\/p>\n
Farfanya, Lleida, like Bernat, his cousin, friend, model, and companion of Miquel Serrano.<\/p>\n
With Miquel, anecdotes blossomed like flowers in spring. One of these is the one <\/p>\n
we experienced together with Santi P\u00e9rez, founder of Pizzeria del Cap de la Vila, on<\/p>\n
a round trip to Carcassonne, the French walled city rebuilt by Eug\u00e8ne<\/p>\n
Viollet-le-Duc. A bastion of the Cathars. Not for a party, but to help Miquel collect the <\/p>\n
belongings from his recently deceased sister’s apartment, of which he was the heir.<\/p>\n
We were accompanied by a young man, Toni Sella, who not long ago recounted this adventure<\/p>\n
in an article, titled \u201cTot \u00e9s fals,\u201d published in these very pages of L\u2019Eco de Sitges.\u201d<\/p>\n
We still all tremble just thinking about it. Serrano was nervous, very nervous, <\/p>\n
and in these circumstances, he could cause a tsunami of unfathomable consequences; he<\/p>\n
forced us to eat a \u201cMarseille casserole\u201d for breakfast. While he smoked tirelessly <\/p>\n
one cigarette after another, and after withdrawing everything from the bank vault, with the<\/p>\n
documents he himself had forged in Barcelona, to avoid paying lawyers, (Santi<\/p>\n
did not know until they were in the bank’s basement). He invited us to lunch. The fifty <\/p>\n
three towers of Carcassonne spun around us, and the double ring of the walls, of<\/p>\n
military grey stone, contributed to our terrors, and what if it all ended up in the Museum of Torture<\/p>\n
of the Inquisition? Afterwards, loaded to the brim, the car like a moving pyramid, and with<\/p>\n
pockets full of gold doubloons and jewels, which we had to distribute so that the bulge<\/p>\n
was not too obvious. Like a troop of ancient pirates (Jack Sparrow style), we crossed the <\/p>\n
border without any incident. Ugh! Unforgettable, Miquel Serrano. <\/p>\n
Josep Maria Rossell\u00f3.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cCARPE DIEM\u201d, To Miquel Serrano<\/p>\n
In the early seventies, in that Sitges which is now a memory, I met the painter<\/p>\n
Miquel Serrano. Always, and in any circumstance, polite, charming, elegant, ironic <\/p>\n
and a smoker, a heavy smoker, a \u201cbon vivant\u201d and a drinker, preferably \u201cwhisky\u201d. A regular at the <\/p>\n
terrace of Caf\u00e9 Roy in Sitges, Caf\u00e9 de la \u00d2pera in Barcelona, and Caf\u00e9 de Flore in Paris.<\/p>\n
Companion of the Blai brothers, and of Manolo Muntanyola. He did not particularly like talking about art, and <\/p>\n
even less about his own. He had been a student of Francesc Labarta. In the 1930s, he had painted a portrait from <\/p>\n
life of the poet Federico Garcia Lorca, for the presentation of one of his lectures in<\/p>\n
Barcelona, the Grenadian historian Antonina Rodrigo mentions it in one of her books dedicated<\/p>\n
to the poet. Serrano rarely spoke of what he had done; he was a friend of Jean Cocteau, and in his apartment <\/p>\n
on Rambla Catalunya, he had some beautiful drawings of fauns that Cocteau had given him, and he also<\/p>\n
provided him with contacts in Paris, who commissioned originals for fabric printing,<\/p>\n
which allowed him to live with dignity. An unrepeatable generation. <\/p>\n
I was very pleased to learn that a significant exhibition is finally being dedicated to him in Sitges, at<\/p>\n
Espai Miramar. An exhibition curated by Beli Artigas, which brings together the best of his <\/p>\n
work, almost a retrospective. He probably would have been rather afraid of it, but deep down, <\/p>\n
he would have liked it. Yes, he would have liked it very much, because, despite everything, he was tender enough to <\/p>\n
accept it as a generous display of friendship.<\/p>\n
I saw some of his works from the 1940s or perhaps 1950s, at the home of Pepa<\/p>\n
Gum\u00e0, in Sitges, who had unique works in her collection, which now belongs to her<\/p>\n
daughters, Silvia and Marta Camps. Many \u201cSerranos\u201d were seen in Sitges, but not like those. <\/p>\n
When I organized my exhibition \u201cNeomitologia de Sitges i la Blanca Subur\u201d at the Hotel<\/p>\n
Rom\u00e0ntic, I painted the two large-format works at \u201cCa la Femenina\u201d and the rest at the studio<\/p>\n
that Serrano had in the apartment above Caf\u00e9 Roy, and which the master kindly lent me.<\/p>\n
The circumstances that led the artist to \u201ccarpe diem\u201d are unknown to me, but in a certain<\/p>\n
way, I believe it all had something of a protest against the dogmatic clutches and the<\/p>\n
laws of the market, which for some time had been gnawing at the fresh fields of art and life, from which<\/p>\n
he fled like cats flee water. For a time, we had the same art dealer, <\/p>\n
Cayetano Balaguer\u00f3, who organized several exhibitions for him. Cayetano was from Castell\u00f3 de <\/p>\n
Farfanya, Lleida, like Bernat, his cousin, friend, model, and companion of Miquel Serrano.<\/p>\n
With Miquel, anecdotes blossomed like flowers in spring. One of these is the one <\/p>\n
we experienced together with Santi P\u00e9rez, founder of Pizzeria del Cap de la Vila, on<\/p>\n
a round trip to Carcassonne, the French walled city rebuilt by Eug\u00e8ne<\/p>\n
Viollet-le-Duc. A bastion of the Cathars. Not for a party, but to help Miquel collect the <\/p>\n
belongings from his recently deceased sister’s apartment, of which he was the heir.<\/p>\n
We were accompanied by a young man, Toni Sella, who not long ago recounted this adventure<\/p>\n
in an article, titled \u201cTot \u00e9s fals,\u201d published in these very pages of L\u2019Eco de Sitges.\u201d<\/p>\n
We still all tremble just thinking about it. Serrano was nervous, very nervous, <\/p>\n
and in these circumstances, he could cause a tsunami of unfathomable consequences; he<\/p>\n
forced us to eat a \u201cMarseille casserole\u201d for breakfast. While he smoked tirelessly <\/p>\n
one cigarette after another, and after withdrawing everything from the bank vault, with the<\/p>\n
documents he himself had forged in Barcelona, to avoid paying lawyers, (Santi<\/p>\n
did not know until they were in the bank’s basement). He invited us to lunch. The fifty <\/p>\n
three towers of Carcassonne spun around us, and the double ring of the walls, of<\/p>\n
military grey stone, contributed to our terrors, and what if it all ended up in the Museum of Torture<\/p>\n
of the Inquisition? Afterwards, loaded to the brim, the car like a moving pyramid, and with<\/p>\n
pockets full of gold doubloons and jewels, which we had to distribute so that the bulge<\/p>\n
was not too obvious. Like a troop of ancient pirates (Jack Sparrow style), we crossed the <\/p>\n
border without any incident. Ugh! Unforgettable, Miquel Serrano. <\/p>\n
Josep Maria Rossell\u00f3.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cCARPE DIEM\u201d, To Miquel Serrano<\/p>\n
In the early seventies, in that Sitges which is now a memory, I met the painter<\/p>\n
Miquel Serrano. Always, and in any circumstance, polite, charming, elegant, ironic <\/p>\n
and a smoker, a heavy smoker, a \u201cbon vivant\u201d and a drinker, preferably \u201cwhisky\u201d. A regular at the <\/p>\n
terrace of Caf\u00e9 Roy in Sitges, Caf\u00e9 de la \u00d2pera in Barcelona, and Caf\u00e9 de Flore in Paris.<\/p>\n
Companion of the Blai brothers, and of Manolo Muntanyola. He did not particularly like talking about art, and <\/p>\n
even less about his own. He had been a student of Francesc Labarta. In the 1930s, he had painted a portrait from <\/p>\n
life of the poet Federico Garcia Lorca, for the presentation of one of his lectures in<\/p>\n
Barcelona, the Grenadian historian Antonina Rodrigo mentions it in one of her books dedicated<\/p>\n
to the poet. Serrano rarely spoke of what he had done; he was a friend of Jean Cocteau, and in his apartment <\/p>\n
on Rambla Catalunya, he had some beautiful drawings of fauns that Cocteau had given him, and he also<\/p>\n
provided him with contacts in Paris, who commissioned original designs for fabric printing,<\/p>\n
which allowed him to live comfortably. A truly unique generation. <\/p>\n
I was very pleased to learn that a significant exhibition is finally being dedicated to him in Sitges, at<\/p>\n
Espai Miramar. An exhibition curated by Beli Artigas, which gathers the very best of his <\/p>\n
work, almost a retrospective. He would probably have been rather intimidated by it, but deep down, <\/p>\n
he would have liked it. Yes, he would have liked it very much, because, despite everything, he was gentle enough to <\/p>\n
accept it as a generous gesture of friendship.<\/p>\n
I saw some of his works from the 1940s or perhaps 1950s at the home of Pepa<\/p>\n
Gum\u00e0 in Sitges, who possessed unique pieces in her collection, which now belongs to her<\/p>\n
daughters, Silvia and Marta Camps. Many \u201cSerranos\u201d were seen in Sitges, but none quite like those. <\/p>\n
When I organized my exhibition \u201cNeomythology of Sitges and the White Suburb\u201d at the Hotel<\/p>\n
Rom\u00e0ntic, I painted the two large-format works at \u201cCa la Femenina\u201d and the rest at the studio<\/p>\n
that Serrano maintained in the apartment above Caf\u00e9 Roy, and which the master kindly lent me.<\/p>\n
I am unaware of the circumstances that led the artist to embrace \u201ccarpe diem,\u201d but in a certain<\/p>\n
way, I believe it all contained an element of protest against the dogmatic clutches and<\/p>\n
the laws of the market, which had long been eroding the fertile grounds of art and life, from which<\/p>\n
he fled as cats flee water. For a time, we shared the same art dealer, <\/p>\n
Cayetano Balaguer\u00f3, who organized several exhibitions for him. Cayetano hailed from Castell\u00f3 de <\/p>\n
Farfanya, Lleida, much like Bernat, his cousin, friend, model, and companion to Miquel Serrano.<\/p>\n
With Miquel, anecdotes blossomed like spring flowers. One such anecdote is the one <\/p>\n
we experienced together with Santi P\u00e9rez, founder of the Pizzeria del Cap de la Vila, during<\/p>\n
a round trip to Carcassonne, the walled French city rebuilt by Eug\u00e8ne<\/p>\n
Viollet-le-Duc. A bastion of the Cathars. Not for revelry, but to help Miquel collect the <\/p>\n
belongings from his sister’s apartment, as she had recently passed away and he was her heir.<\/p>\n
We were accompanied by a young man, Toni Sella, who recently recounted this adventure<\/p>\n
in an article titled \u201cEverything is False,\u201d published in these very pages of L\u2019Eco de Sitges.<\/p>\n
We all still tremble at the mere thought of it. Serrano was nervous, extremely nervous, <\/p>\n
and in such circumstances, he could unleash a tsunami of far-reaching consequences. He<\/p>\n
insisted we eat a \u201cMarseille casserole\u201d for breakfast. While he smoked tirelessly, <\/p>\n
one cigarette after another, and after retrieving everything from the bank’s safe deposit box, using the<\/p>\n
documents he himself had falsified in Barcelona to avoid paying lawyers (Santi<\/p>\n
did not know until they were in the bank’s basement). He then invited us to lunch. The fifty-three <\/p>\n
towers of Carcassonne seemed to spin around us, and the double ring of the walls, made of<\/p>\n
military grey stone, contributed to our growing fears. What if it all ended up in the Inquisition’s Torture Museum?<\/p>\n
Afterwards, loaded to the brim, the car resembling a mobile pyramid, and with<\/p>\n
our pockets filled with gold doubloons and jewels, which we had to distribute so that the bulge<\/p>\n
would not be too obvious. Like a troop of ancient pirates (picture Jack Sparrow), we crossed the <\/p>\n
border without any incident. Phew! Unforgettable, Miquel Serrano. <\/p>\n
Josep Maria Rossell\u00f3.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cCARPE DIEM\u201d, To Miquel Serrano In the early seventies, in that Sitges which is now a memory, I met the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":2454,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[85],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2451","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2451","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2451"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2451\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/2454"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2451"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2451"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/josepmariarossello.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2451"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}