Was picasso gay
IN A RECENT INTERVIEW in The Fresh York Times Guide Review, the homosexual writer Wayne Koestenbaum was asked which three writers, gone or alive, he would invite to a dinner party. He chose Jean Rhys, Emily Dickinson, and Max Jacob. Of the three, the least adv known by most American readers must be Jacob. Today, outside his native France, Jacob has found only a modest place among his fellow 20th-century Modernists. (The encyclopedic A New History of French Literature, published by Harvard University Press, accords Jacob one sentence.) But when he was alive, he was considered a visionary genius and one of the master poets of his age—“the Mallarmé of Cubism.” André Gide compared him to Heine. Composers like Poulenc and Virgil Thomson arrange his poems to music; Picasso contributed illustrations to his books; Modigliani painted his portrait several times.
After moving to Paris, Jacob earned a law degree but yearned for a literary animation. He served stints as a reporter and an art critic before trying his hand at writing verse. Soon he and Picasso, who was to become his most important friend, were hanging out together, sharing meals, writing, and drawing. (Jacob was a more than competent p
Contrary to expectation, these books provide new information about and grow our understanding of Picasso and his art
Thirty-three years after the artist’s death, the Picasso industry shows no sign of flagging. Type “Picasso” into Google and you’ll be offered a staggering 54 million entries (of 20th-century figures, only Adolf Hitler, with 68 million, gets more). With the exception of the delightful Lump, these new books, in their own different ways, extend our understanding of Picasso’s art.
Adopting an essentially biographical approach, Anne Baldassari and Elizabeth Cowling relate the art to two people who played a crucial role in Picasso’s complicated life—the one emotionally and artistically, the other professionally. Christopher Green’s Picasso: Architecture and Vertigo, suggests the more speculative nature of his enquiry, which leads the reader into areas remote from conventional art history.
Dr Baldassari’s Picasso: Being with Dora Maar. Love and War 1935-1945 accompanied an exhibition earlier this year of the same title at the Musée Picasso in Paris, where the author is director.
The lovely, half-Croatian photographer Dora Maar (Markovitch) was Picasso’s mistre
Patrick Angus
American realist painter Patrick Angus produced keenly observed and compassionate depictions of the 1980s lgbtq+ demimonde. His labor captures, with empathy, understanding, and wit, the longing and loneliness of many urban gay men of the era.
Born on December 3, 1953 in North Hollywood, California and raised in Santa Barbara, Patrick Angus was a introverted boy who wanted to be an artist. With no guidance and only misinformation for reference, he floundered. Although a kind elevated school art educator mentored him and even let him use his studio, Angus was nervous to broach the subject of his sexual angst with a heterosexual man.
In 1974, a scholarship to the Santa Barbara Art Institute led him to discover the novel 72 Drawings by David Hockney (1971). Here he set up an artist who celebrated his sexual persona in his work and who glamorized the "good" gay life in Los Angeles, only 100 miles away. However, when Angus moved to Hollywood in 1975, he discovered that the good gay existence does not be for poor people, "unless, of course," as he bitterly noted, "they are beautiful." Angus, believing that he was sexually unattractive, was hopelessly lonely for the affection of an objecti
Chilling portrait of Picasso the monster: 50 years after his death, how the genius bewitched his serial younger lovers, beat and betrayed them - then crushed them onto his canvas... TOM LEONARD's vivid impression of an outrageous life
Few would disagree with history's verdict that Pablo Picasso was one of the most influential artists ever. And no painting has earned him more acclaim than Les Demoiselles d'Avignon, his iconoclastic Cubist study of five naked prostitutes from a Barcelona brothel.
For many, it epitomizes what made Picasso so special: his revolutionary painting style and shockingly drastic representation of the female form.
But are his adoring fans also aware that while he was functional on Les Demoiselles, Picasso and his longtime mistress Fernande Olivier, briefly adopted a 13-year-old girl named Raymonde from a Paris orphanage who he sketched spreading her legs?
'There's no indication that Picasso ever abused Raymonde [who was later returned to the orphanage],' wrote the artist's biographer Miles Unger, 'but it's clear she aroused feelings in him that might have led to disaster. His attraction to adolescent girls, at least later in life, is well-documented.'
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