Oil on canvas
38 x 51 in
The Metropolitan Museum of Art
The spectacle of the sky overwhelms me. I’m overwhelmed when I see, in an immense sky, the crescent of the moon, or the sun. There, in my pictures, tiny forms in huge empty spaces. Empty spaces, empty horizons, empty plains – everything which is bare has always greatly impressed me.
Between 1924 and 1927, Miró created a group of paintings that are radically different from his earlier work. Known as peinture-poésie, these canvases, with broad and loosely brushed fields of color, are animated by just a few enigmatic signs. They are linked to his association, in the early 1920s, with the poets who later joined the Surrealist movement. The poets were the friends of his neighbor, the painter André Breton.
The present work, with its simple composition, is the most evocative of these works. Only three elements float on the white empty canvas: the word “Photo,” the patch of blue, and the sentence “ceci est la couleur de mes rêves” (this is the color of my dreams). The black letters sit on faint, barely visible pencil lines that serve as guides for their sizes, as in a child’s writing primer. When asked by the writer Georges Raillard about the meaning of the word “Photo,” Miró said, “I started with the idea of a photo—I don’t remember at all what photo it was. I neither did a collage nor a reproduction of it. I simply painted the word ‘photo.'”
michelle
13 years agoIt’s difficult for many to understand why many artists eventually go abstract and even minimalist, but if you go there it makes perfect sense. Unfortunately painting the void just has to be the most ridiculous thing to try and do.
Stephen Parker, Ph.D. (Article Selection, Commentary)
13 years agoMichelle: Do you have any thoughts of paintings that have come close to painting the Void?