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Lot Essay
‘Picasso is often heard to say that when he paints, all the painters are with him in the studio. Or rather behind him. Watching him. Those of yesterday, and those of today… A painter in solitude is never alone’ – Hélène Parmelin
In early 1966, while in Mougins convalescing from surgery that he had undergone some months previously, Picasso re-read Alexandre Dumas's The Three Musketeers. He had just begun painting again, and before long a new character entered his work, the musketeer, or the Spanish version of the 17th century cavalier, the hidalgo, a rakish nobleman skilled with the sword and daring in his romantic exploits. The brave and virile musketeer was strongly identifiable with the aging artist himself, but also provided Picasso with a pretext to indulge in his love of Rembrandt, Diego Velázquez and other great painters of the past. During the next few years there was among Picasso's paintings a proliferation of portraits of men in elegant little beards and long wavy hair, clad in 17th century doublets and ruffled collars.
This incongruous musketeer, a stock character of a variety of these artists and writers appears out of place in a painting as modern as Buste d’homme, with its bold colours and contemporary appearance. Yet in turning to this subject, Picasso found himself able to doff his hat in the direction of his greatest predecessors and inspirations. Just as he revisited paintings like Las Meninas, so too here he has tapped into the sense of romance and valour that reveals his continued interest in the artists of yore.
This interest was perhaps sharpened by Picasso’s repeated assertion that he was ‘haunted’ by the character of Rembrandt, who was for the Spaniard a ghostly presence, a target and an idol. This was an influence that Picasso had felt for most of his life, once explaining that, ‘Every painter takes himself for Rembrandt’ (quoted in F. Gilot and C. Lake, Life with Picasso, New York, Toronto and London, 1964, p. 51). In artistic terms, Rembrandt was both a hero and an obstacle to be overcome; Picasso worshipped him, but saw himself as a challenger assailing his position. In a sense, Picasso has taken a subject more fitting for an Old Master in order to emphasise his own contribution to the revolution that had taken place in art through his pioneering experiments over the previous seven decades, all the while paying his respects to his artistic hero.
In Buste de homme the corrugated card brims with life and energy. In the bold, frenzied brushstrokes that articulate the lively surface of this work, the viewer can trace the impressively physical act of painting, the artist defying the supposed limitations of his age. The vigorous, visceral gesturality of these vivid brushstrokes is a recording of Picasso’s own whirlwind of movement, parrying and striking with the oils against the canvas. Picasso himself was aware of the almost archaeological manner in which his own movements were captured on the canvas, stating, ‘The role of painting is to arrest motion’ (quoted in M.-L. Bernadac, ‘Picasso 1953-1972: Painting as Model,’ in Late Picasso: Paintings, sculpture, drawings, prints 1953-1972, exh. cat., London and Paris, 1988, p. 88). In Buste d’homme, this results in picture that is filled with movement, with colour, with sheer energy. At the same time, this ‘arrested motion’ has an existential aspect, Picasso capturing his own movements for posterity, an increasing concern as he approached the end of his life.
After remaining in the artist’s family, this painting was presented as a gift to Colette Jacquemin. A successful entrepreneur with a number of pharmacies across Paris, Colette’s second marriage was to the Spanish artist José Vilato Ruiz Fin. ‘Fin’ as he was known, was Pablo Picasso’s nephew, the son of his younger sister Lola. This relationship introduced Colette to the fascinating world of contemporary art in 1960s Paris. She and Fin hosted dinners for writers and artists at their Montmartre apartment and were regulars at the Tabac Vert in Montparnasse, dining with the likes of Óscar Domínguez and César.
Colette became an integral part of Fin’s extended family and was welcomed by Picasso and his wife Jacqueline into their home, Notre-Dame-de-Vie, and into their closely knit circle of friends. The warmth between the two couples is evident in the remaining letters and postcards, in which Jacqueline refers to Colette as ‘ma petite soeur’. Picasso appreciated Colette for her good humour, unwavering dedication to his nephew’s artistic career, and amusingly, on one occasion, her own unwitting contribution to his oeuvre. After a visit to Notre-Dame-de-Vie when she brought one of her mother’s legendary ‘Pithivier’ cakes, which Picasso loved, she was found that its special baking tin had vanished. This later gave way to much amusement when it reappeared as the wavy-edged bonnet on the baby in Picasso’s plaster cast of La Poussette (Museum Ludwig, Cologne).
The late 1960s were marked by personal tragedy for Colette as Fin fell seriously ill, finally dying in 1969. With heartfelt appreciation for the loving care she took of their brother during his extended illness, each of Fin’s four siblings gave Colette a painting by their uncle, Picasso, as a fitting expression of the family’s gratitude. Buste d’homme was one such work.
In early 1966, while in Mougins convalescing from surgery that he had undergone some months previously, Picasso re-read Alexandre Dumas's The Three Musketeers. He had just begun painting again, and before long a new character entered his work, the musketeer, or the Spanish version of the 17th century cavalier, the hidalgo, a rakish nobleman skilled with the sword and daring in his romantic exploits. The brave and virile musketeer was strongly identifiable with the aging artist himself, but also provided Picasso with a pretext to indulge in his love of Rembrandt, Diego Velázquez and other great painters of the past. During the next few years there was among Picasso's paintings a proliferation of portraits of men in elegant little beards and long wavy hair, clad in 17th century doublets and ruffled collars.
This incongruous musketeer, a stock character of a variety of these artists and writers appears out of place in a painting as modern as Buste d’homme, with its bold colours and contemporary appearance. Yet in turning to this subject, Picasso found himself able to doff his hat in the direction of his greatest predecessors and inspirations. Just as he revisited paintings like Las Meninas, so too here he has tapped into the sense of romance and valour that reveals his continued interest in the artists of yore.
This interest was perhaps sharpened by Picasso’s repeated assertion that he was ‘haunted’ by the character of Rembrandt, who was for the Spaniard a ghostly presence, a target and an idol. This was an influence that Picasso had felt for most of his life, once explaining that, ‘Every painter takes himself for Rembrandt’ (quoted in F. Gilot and C. Lake, Life with Picasso, New York, Toronto and London, 1964, p. 51). In artistic terms, Rembrandt was both a hero and an obstacle to be overcome; Picasso worshipped him, but saw himself as a challenger assailing his position. In a sense, Picasso has taken a subject more fitting for an Old Master in order to emphasise his own contribution to the revolution that had taken place in art through his pioneering experiments over the previous seven decades, all the while paying his respects to his artistic hero.
In Buste de homme the corrugated card brims with life and energy. In the bold, frenzied brushstrokes that articulate the lively surface of this work, the viewer can trace the impressively physical act of painting, the artist defying the supposed limitations of his age. The vigorous, visceral gesturality of these vivid brushstrokes is a recording of Picasso’s own whirlwind of movement, parrying and striking with the oils against the canvas. Picasso himself was aware of the almost archaeological manner in which his own movements were captured on the canvas, stating, ‘The role of painting is to arrest motion’ (quoted in M.-L. Bernadac, ‘Picasso 1953-1972: Painting as Model,’ in Late Picasso: Paintings, sculpture, drawings, prints 1953-1972, exh. cat., London and Paris, 1988, p. 88). In Buste d’homme, this results in picture that is filled with movement, with colour, with sheer energy. At the same time, this ‘arrested motion’ has an existential aspect, Picasso capturing his own movements for posterity, an increasing concern as he approached the end of his life.
After remaining in the artist’s family, this painting was presented as a gift to Colette Jacquemin. A successful entrepreneur with a number of pharmacies across Paris, Colette’s second marriage was to the Spanish artist José Vilato Ruiz Fin. ‘Fin’ as he was known, was Pablo Picasso’s nephew, the son of his younger sister Lola. This relationship introduced Colette to the fascinating world of contemporary art in 1960s Paris. She and Fin hosted dinners for writers and artists at their Montmartre apartment and were regulars at the Tabac Vert in Montparnasse, dining with the likes of Óscar Domínguez and César.
Colette became an integral part of Fin’s extended family and was welcomed by Picasso and his wife Jacqueline into their home, Notre-Dame-de-Vie, and into their closely knit circle of friends. The warmth between the two couples is evident in the remaining letters and postcards, in which Jacqueline refers to Colette as ‘ma petite soeur’. Picasso appreciated Colette for her good humour, unwavering dedication to his nephew’s artistic career, and amusingly, on one occasion, her own unwitting contribution to his oeuvre. After a visit to Notre-Dame-de-Vie when she brought one of her mother’s legendary ‘Pithivier’ cakes, which Picasso loved, she was found that its special baking tin had vanished. This later gave way to much amusement when it reappeared as the wavy-edged bonnet on the baby in Picasso’s plaster cast of La Poussette (Museum Ludwig, Cologne).
The late 1960s were marked by personal tragedy for Colette as Fin fell seriously ill, finally dying in 1969. With heartfelt appreciation for the loving care she took of their brother during his extended illness, each of Fin’s four siblings gave Colette a painting by their uncle, Picasso, as a fitting expression of the family’s gratitude. Buste d’homme was one such work.