Pilar, Miró's wife, answered the phone and was not surprised by my call; she invited us the same day to their house in the hills, where we were welcomed with extreme simplicity and kindness.

We had met Miró before in Paris in galleries and public places, but we were excited to be received at his home. They were both waiting for us at the entrance of the house where they welcomed us and we immediately realized the simplicity of their home, the casual and casual way of dressing, sober and simple.

He was interested and intrigued by the fact that we had come from Italy by boat to meet him and wanted to know every detail of our movements and about sailing. When he found out that we also had all the equipment necessary to create and realise a graphic work aboard the boat, he was happy because he realised then that we had undertaken the voyage just for him.

It was a pleasure to do lithography with Miró.

Ours was merely a chemical intervention, the image emerging naturally and progressively, controlled by a technique which exploited everything that was known about lithography with a naturalness that astonished even us. That knowledge allowed him an approach that was pure poetry, almost childlike, and the image which gradually emerged was cloaked in a mysteriously ripe shadow, full of memories.

We would have liked him to take on a copper plate, preparing ourselves for that eventuality, but he probably realised that with one lithograph he could rapidly fulfill his commitment towards Unesco, so we did not insist in any way. Only when the work was finished did we show him some graphics which we had realised with artists that he loved and, perhaps, but this is only my opinion, he did then have a moment’s doubt that he had missed a new opportunity. If nothing else, it would have taken him back a few years to the time when he created his splendid etchings.