UMK-Art & Culture: Cubism & Picasso

“This was a movement started by Picasso and Braque to distinguish their work from what Cezanne had already done, but failed to give a name to. In Modern Art, naming your art movement is a must. Cubism is still the most important art movement for the same reason that John D. is still the most important Rockefeller. All the other art movements are like downtown Rockefellers, and you can forget about them unless you expect to encounter an art category on ‘Jeopardy’.” – Brad Holland

What was it about? What were the goals?

In Cubist artwork, objects are analyzed, broken up and reassembled in an abstracted form—instead of depicting objects from a single viewpoint, the artist depicts the subject from a multitude of viewpoints (and points in time) to represent the subject in a greater context. It’s a form of puzzle making that’s supposed to tell you “the whole story” while at the same time suggesting, you might not really know this subject as well as you thought. Don’t judge by appearances.

Not all Cubists had the same goals. Kupka and Delaunay painted purely abstract, non-representational images, meant to express metaphysical ideas. This subgroup was labeled Orphism.

A bit of historical context:

This movement began around 1907 in Paris with Picasso and Braque, who developed the idea. The name came from a critic who made fun of what he called “cubic oddities.” Fun fact, the first cubist exhibition in 1911 showed neither of these artists’ works, instead showing off that of their followers. This was due to the core members signing a contract with the art dealer Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler. He promised them an annual salary, for the right to buy all their artworks and sell them through his gallery. So, they became known as the Kahnweiler Cubists, while the rest were called the Salle 41 Cubists.

Cubism made a big splash in the art world, inspiring and influencing a host of movements that came right after: Futurism, Suprematism, Constructivism, Dadaism, Art Deco, and De Stijl. Ideas borrowed include simultaneity––fusing the past, present and future, multiple perspectives, combining various materials including found objects, and simplifying forms to their basic geometric shapes.

In the Forest, by Paul Cezanne, 1898

A primary influence of Cubism was Paul Cézanne, who had many exhibitions in Paris in that time, up to and after his death in 1906. He once said, “. . .treat nature by means of the cylinder, the sphere, the cone, everything brought into proper perspective so that each side of an object or a plane is directed towards a central point.” Another big influence was Gauguin who, although dead, was also represented in some big art shows in Paris at that time. This spurred Picasso’s interest in tribal art and African masks.

Another influence was Da Vinci, who wrote about the golden ratio (used to make ideal compositions). Certain Cubists, like Metzinger and Gleizes, felt this ratio was so important they called themselves the Section d’Or.

Cubism wasn’t exactly political, but it was politicized. Conservatives complained in 1912 that public funds were being used to put up a Cubists art exhibit (with over 200 works and a “cubist house” installation) at the Grand Palais in Paris.

Concept Design for the Cubist House, by Raymond Duchamp-Villon, 1912

The artists were defended by socialists in the government. The debate led Gleizes and Metzinger to write Du Cubisme that year, a book defending their movement.

Cubism went out of fashion in the 1920’s as Surrealism developed, but it keeps popping up in our visual culture. It’s been used frequently in advertising, and even in film composition.

The underlying philosophy of the period:

Good question. Everyone knows about Picasso, but there were a number of other artists who dabbled in cubism, like Marcel Duchamp, Le Corbusier, and others, who wanted to define it for themselves. So, the definition depends on who you talk to, or whose manifesto you read. One core idea of the movement was that you don’t know the world as well as you think you do. You should look closer.

Some ideas about cubism relate a lot to other movements of the time, such as that art was much more than simply decoration. Metzinger wrote that decoration was “antithesis of the picture. The true picture bears its raison d'être within itself. It can be moved from a church to a drawing-room, from a museum to a study. Essentially independent, necessarily complete, it need not immediately satisfy the mind: on the contrary, it should lead it, little by little, towards the fictitious depths in which the coordinative light resides. It does not harmonize with this or that ensemble; it harmonizes with things in general, with the universe: it is an organism...”

How was it represented in the other arts – music, architecture, and literature?

Cubism branched out into literature and architecture. The most famous Cubist architects were Walter Gropius and Le Corbusier, who later distinguished his style of Cubism by labelling it Purism. In Purism, objects weren’t broken up into little pieces, but merely simplified to their basic outlines.

Vertical Still Life, by Le Corbusier, 1922

The result appears Cubist, but is much easier to read. You can tell what the objects are. These designers used simple, geometric shapes, industrial materials, and lots of glass to make playful, odd, and often towering new buildings that defy description. Cubist ideas mixed with Futurism, De Stijl, and Purism around this time, which is why we typically think of these buildings as simply Modern.

The Assembly Building in Chandigarh, India, by Le Corbusier, 1950’s

Centre Le Corbusier in Zürich-Seefeld, by Le Corbusier, 1967

The most famous Cubist writers were Gertrude Stein and Pierre Reverdy. They used repeated words and phrases as building blocks to write poems and even novels. While it might sound silly or nonsensical, like Dada or Surrealism, it’s supposed to be based on a strict structure, and with a deeper intended meaning.

Was it great?

It was big – really big. Cubism took off all around the world, and inspired many, many people and new movements. Was it great? Some of it, sure, this was a great experiment, with successes and failures, innovative ideas and copycats. I think Picasso, among other things was a genius cartoonist. Much of what he made can be viewed as abstract cartoons, and in that, he was one of the best that ever lived.

What’s up with Picasso? Was he overrated? Misogynist? A narcissist? Does it matter?

It’s hard to say exactly why Picasso is so famous today, because there are many reasons. It’s not simply hype, but he did get lots of it. It’s not simply shock value, although his work was shocking. One answer is he was prolific. He made over 50,000 artworks in his life, including 1,885 paintings, and 1,228 sculptures. Pablo had to create. Even when he was young and poor, he’d paint over the same canvas two or three times, no matter how good the previous works were. He’d work mostly at night, while no one would bother him.

He was versatile, working in many different styles at once––he wasn’t simply Cubist. He also had an incredible imagination, working almost entirely from memory. He never hired models, only painting people he knew, mostly his wives and mistresses. And this brings us to misogyny...

Two factors played into the young Picasso’s views on women. First, as a teen in Barcelona, he and his friends spent time with prostitutes. Second, his best friend, Carlos, was impotent and fell in love with a model. When she rejected him, he shot himself (he almost shot her too, but she got away). This affected Picasso deeply, triggering his blue period of painting. It may have also reinforced Picasso’s apparent mistrust in women, which caused him to jump from one relation to another.

Olga in an Armchair, 1918

Picasso’s first wife was Olga Khokhlova, a Ukrainian ballet dancer. After nine years, Picasso befriended a 17 year-old girl, Marie, whom he would eventually have an affair with, and get pregnant (when she was 26).

The Red Armchair, 1931

Olga wanted to divorce, but Picasso refused to divide his property in half, as required by law, so she stayed married to him till her death in 1955. Marie described posing for Picasso as some of the greatest moments of her life. He was charming, excited, and made her feel special. Even afer he left her, she spoke fondly of him. Four years after Picasso died, Marie committed suicide.

Meanwhile... as soon as Marie got pregnant, Picasso fell for another woman, a young photographer named Dora Maar.

Bust of a Woman, 1938

When the two women confronted him at his studio, and asked him to choose, he said they should fight it out among themselves, and they did! They started wrestling for him. Picasso called it one of his choicest memories. It didn’t matter, Picasso kept seeing both women until Dora eventually had a nervous breakdown and left him. For what it’s worth, Picasso paid for both women’s living expenses.

After seven years with Dora, Picasso fell for another young artist named Françoise Gilot.

Woman’s Head, 1946

She was 21 and he was 61. They moved to the south of France, and lived together for ten years, having two children, although they couldn’t marry. Things grew tense when Picasso’s former mistresses came to visit and Olga even moved nearby. Gilot had enough, and was the first woman to leave Picasso. When they broke up, he instructed every art dealer he knew to never sell Gilot’s paintings, ruining her career. And, according to Wikipedia, he allegedly abused her and Dora physically. Years later, Gilot wrote a best-selling book about Picasso, which he tried to get banned, and angering him so much he threatened to cut their children out of his will (he actually never made a will, causing all his relatives to battle over his estate).

After leaving Gilot, he married Jacqueline Roque (she was 26 and recently divorced, and he was 72).

Crouching Woman, 1954

She played hard to get, and so Picasso gave her a rose a day for six months before they started dating. They married, and stayed together till the end of his life. Moving into a new home, they stopped seeing friends and even his former children. Jacqueline protected him from distractions so he could devote the end of his life to his art, drawing right up to the moment he died in bed. But, it was more than that, Jacqueline was jealous of his other mistresses and families, refusing to let them attend his funeral. One grandson was so upset about this he drank a bottle of bleach and died. And, in 1986, Jacqueline also committed suicide, shooting herself.

One of the harshest critiques comes from his own granddaughter, Marina, who wrote, “He needed blood to sign each of his paintings: my father’s blood, my brother’s, my mother’s, my grandmother’s and mine. He needed the blood of those who loved him––people who thought they loved a human being, whereas they really loved Picasso.”

So, what does all this tell us about Picasso, and his art? For Picasso, painting wasn’t simply about image making but about loving and exploring his fascination with the women in his life. He was literally putting them on a pedestal. It was devotional, but also a recipe for disaster, for two reasons. Picasso wasn’t seeing these women for who they really were. He was idealizing them, so when they did or said something that upset him, it was a shock––what, this girl isn’t perfect? I’ll find another. Gilot remarked, “Throughout this long relationship, ten or eleven years, I remained just as much of a mystery to him as I was on the first day.”

And then, no matter how great a “muse” you find, you can’t just paint it over and over the rest of your life. You get bored, you always want to paint something different. I’ve painted a favorite view two or three times, but then I always say, okay, never again, it’s time to move on. You can’t do that to the people in your life. For Picasso’s women it came as a terrible shock––you loved me so much yesterday, I was on a pedestal, how can you have forgotten so quickly?

And what did all these women see in him? One friend said he had these powerful eyes that saw right through you.

Portrait of Picasso, by Salvador Dali, 1930

But, you can’t really answer this without knowing the man. Some people are very critical of Picasso now. Comedian Hannah Gadsby sees him as the art world’s Donald Trump, quoting Picasso as saying, “Each time I leave a woman, I should burn her. Destroy the woman, you destroy the past she represents.” That sounds pretty bad, but it’s worth noting he didn’t do that, he financially supported all these women (at least until Jacqueline put an end to it), and was most likely joking.

He was also a human rights activist, painting anti-war artworks that were used in fundraisers in support of democracy and freedom. Picasso was a womanizer with an eye for younger women, and at least one claims he hit her. But, almost everyone around him loved him, and wanted to be with him. All these family members committed suicide after he died because they couldn't stand to live without him. That’s not his fault, is it? Who knows, maybe to some extent it is, it certainly feels cultish, but you still wonder, to what extent is it fair to blame the man for being so charismatic and fascinating?

Some leading figures:

Frantisek Kupka (1871-1957) founded Orphism

Francis Picabia (1879-1953)

Henri Le Fauconnier (1881-1946)

Albert Gleizes (1881-1953)

Fernand Leger (1881-1955)

Pablo Picasso (1881-1973)

Georges Braque (1882-1963)

Jean Metzinger (1883-1956)

Bohumil Kubišta (1884-1918)

Robert Delaunay (1885-1941)

Tamara de Lempicka (1898-1980)