Giorgio Morandi (1890-1964)
Artist's Resale Right ("Droit de Suite"). Artist's… Read more PROPERTY FROM A PRIVATE COLLECTION You can look at Morandi without believing in God, in an absolute, in man. But it seems to me that afterwards, your scepticism will become less tenable. I was lucky enough to be initiated into the work of this mystical painter, who was reintroducing a sense of peace and ancient happiness into the modern age, by my uncle: Vitale Bloch. Through him, I came to know Morandi the painter, and I came to know Morandi the man. For Vitale, who together with Max Friedländer had become a specialist of Flemish painting, and whom Roberto Longhi had introduced to the vast domain of Italian painting, considered Morandi's oeuvre as the 'Holy Grail' of his time. He loved Morandi, and would make delicate jokes about him, perfectly imitating Morandi's sighs: Dove andiamo a finire? ('Where are we going to end up?'), expressing Morandi's amazement at the times in which he was living and in which he felt so lost. He loved to tell the story of how Mussolini, while visiting an exhibition, had hurried towards him as he was standing in front of his pictures; Lei è Bolognese? ('You are from Bologna, aren't you?'). Petrified in front of this muscular, short man, the tall beanpole, all skin and bones, stepped back and murmured, Sì, trembling. Ah! Allora, Lei è Emiliano ('Ah, so you are from Emilia'). And Morandi again took a step backwards and repeated, as though to defend himself, Sì. Furious at getting nothing more out of him, Mussolini clicked his heels, turned around and shouted, Basta colle nature morte! ('That's enough of the still lives!'). Their relationship did not stop there: Vitale also loved to tell the story of a picture by Morandi which had been exported without a license, over which, in order the better to hide the fact, a portrait of Il Duce had been painted. When the painting arrived in New York, the happy owner entrusted it to his restorer and left on holiday. Asking for news of the work, he received the following telegram: 'Mussolini disappeared stop Garibaldi appeared stop what's next.' My uncle was an art historian, a critic, and an occasional dealer. He was above all, as Francesco Arcangeli wrote in his homage to Vitale on the occasion of his seventieth birthday, a 'master of discernment'. He could sit for hours in front of a picture, the lapels of his jacket getting covered with the ash of the cigarettes which he used to smoke endlessly, and it would look as if he was in prayer. He wrote extensively: his bibliography, compiled by Liana Castelfranchi Vegas, is six pages long. Amongst his many writings, I always thought that it was in his book on Vermeer that he best expressed the love which led and guided his life. He was looking for this profound peace which, deep down, inhabits every man, which the great Flemish painters and Chardin managed to portray and which Morandi found again, listened to and expressed in the midst of the 'sound and fury' of his own century, without letting them distract him. It seems to me that what belonged to art must return to it; it seems to me that the person who introduced this art into our lives must be celebrated. This is the reason why the monies we hope to raise through the sale of these Morandis will be used to create a foundation, which will annually award the author of a book dedicated to painting or sculpture, critical or erudite, in the name of Vitale, my uncle, and of Arnold, my father, to whom I owe my love for art and letters. The administration of the prize, as well as everything concerning the Foundation, will be entrusted to the Fondation de France, the official organization charged with the support and management of private foundations. Alexandre Blokh Paris, August 2011
Giorgio Morandi (1890-1964)

Fiori

Details
Giorgio Morandi (1890-1964)
Fiori
signed 'Morandi' (lower right)
oil on canvas
8 1/8 x 8¾ in. (20.6 x 22.2 cm.)
Painted in 1956
Provenance
Vitale Bloch, a gift from the artist in the 1950s, and thence by descent to the present owner.
Literature
L. Vitali, Morandi, Catalogo Generale, vol. II, 1948/1964, Milan, 1977, no. 978 (illustrated).
Special Notice
Artist's Resale Right ("Droit de Suite"). Artist's Resale Right Regulations 2006 apply to this lot, the buyer agrees to pay us an amount equal to the resale royalty provided for in those Regulations, and we undertake to the buyer to pay such amount to the artist's collection agent.

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Adrienne Dumas
Adrienne Dumas

Lot Essay

Giorgio Morandi's paintings of flowers are suffused with a similar contemplative ambience to his other still life compositions. Painted in 1956, Fiori is filled with warm light. The single vase holding the flowers - a contrast to the village-like compositions of boxes and bottles of so many of his still life images of the period - speaks of a dignified restraint. Yet the ripples of the petals themselves, captured in a swirl of brushstrokes, lead the eye across their irregular forms, our attention being brought to every ridge and cranny of the various buds. They appear like an explosion of form, especially in comparison to the symmetry that informs so many of the vases, boxes and bottles of his still lifes. Here, the quasi-organic forms of the flowers - aside from a few early examples, Morandi only painted imitation plants made of silk and other materials - have an almost baroque extravagance.

The fact that Morandi painted silk flowers is itself telling. This image of incredible tranquillity, this focus for meditation, has taken as its subject a trope which is often associated with the memento mori - flowers about to lose their bloom serve as metaphors for fleeting beauty and fleeting life. In Fiori, the flowers, painted on an intimate scale, have gained a monumentality and a stability. The appearance of scumbled light and even of dust which appears to have accrued on the petals speaks of the slow and steady passing of time, a theme that is all the more poetic against the backdrop of the modern era.

Fiori was a gift to Morandi's friend, Vitale Bloch. It was during the course of 1956 that Morandi, in the company of Bloch and Lamberto Vitali, had made one of his few excursions abroad, visiting Winterthur in Switzerland to preside over the opening of an exhibition of his work in the Kunstmuseum there, where his pictures were appearing alongside the sculptures of his compatriot Giacomo Manzù. During this stay, Morandi also took the opportunity to visit Oskar Reinhart's collection, where he was particularly enchanted by a picture of a boy making a house of cards by his artistic hero, Jean-Baptiste-Siméon Chardin.

Looking at Fiori, Vitale Bloch's words from the preface he wrote for Morandi's first major retrospective - which had been held in the Gemeentemuseum in The Hague and in the New Burlington Galleries, London - appear particularly apt. 'For his flower still lifes he generally uses paper roses,' he wrote. 'These are like vers d'occasion and in them the gracefulness, the stillness, and the resignation which are eloquent of the soul of this artist find their most direct expression' (V. Bloch, 'Introduction', in Giorgio Morandi: Paintings and Prints, exh. cat., London, 1954, n.p.).

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