Recent times are being fruitful in new approaches to the figure of Joan Miró.
The extensive biography in two volumes by Josep Massot ( The boy who talked to the trees, about the period 1893-1947, appeared in 2018, and Joan Miró sota el franquisme, 1940-1983 , published last December; both in Galaxia Gutenberg) offers a narrative look with extensive documentation.
I was particularly interested, in the first, in the artist's experiences during the civil war: his concern after the murder of his brother-in-law, the landowner Jaume Golobart, by the Vic control patrols; the march to Paris and the elaboration of the stamp "Aidez l'Espagne" and the missing mural El segador; the subsequent stay in the Norman town of Varengeville-sur-Mer, where the mythical Confirmations were born, with the Nazi danger very close...
As for Joan Miró sota el franquisme, it constitutes a fascinating frieze of the cultural world during the post-war period and the cold war, with the crossed paths of the Picasso-Dalí-Miró triplet and a good follow-up of the latter's internationalization process, with its passage through New York, where he connects with the abstract expressionists, and through Japan (and where he tells us about his encrypted and curious system for talking about money by letter with his gallery owners).
Another suggestive approach to the creator and the person is the Miró exhibition. The most intimate legacy, which can be seen at the Fundació Miró in Barcelona until September 26.
Curated by Marko Daniel, Elena Escolar and Dolors Rodríguez Roig, it presents the collection of works that the artist reserved for his wife, Pilar Juncosa, and his daughter Dolors, with nearly 80 pieces from the beginning of his career until his final years. Among them are some as powerful as L'estel matinal from 1940, one of the Constellations, which Miró wanted to remain Pilar's property. Or the two "paintings" for his grandchildren Emili and David Fernández Miró, from 1963 and 1965, both more than two meters wide.
We also find a selection of personal objects and memorabilia loaded with curiosities. Some related to the process of artistic creation, such as the color documentary made by Francesc Català Roca in 1979 on the creation of the "burnt fabrics" -exhibited in the last room-, which a veteran Miró stabs with energy before pouring on them the paints and then subject them, frame included, to the action of fire.
Others are more intimate. Do you want to know, for example, what was served at Miró and Pilar's wedding banquet on October 12, 1929? Well, it included, according to the French menu displayed in a display case, “Cocktail 'Reina Victoria', Hors d'Oeuvre 'Louis XIV', Consommé George Sand, Langouste a l'Americaine, Filets de Poularde, Mousse de perdreaux a la Belle Vue, Ausperges sauce béarnaise, Puding Diplomate, Coupe Othello and Corbeille de fruits”.
All this washed down with Castell del Remei, Massanet and Miró Adzerias 1830 wines, Codorniu champagne and “coffee, liqueurs, cigars”. It was certainly a link well served.
Minor finds like this bring us closer to the microhistory of an era. But in Miró. The most intimate legacy we find documents of a more dramatic tone. Last week we commented on the book by Llàtzer Moix Word of Pritzker, the difficulties that often arise in the path of a person with a vocation.
The letter that the young Joan writes to his "dear parents", at that time in Palma, on April 2, 1911, and in which, after giving some news of a practical nature, goes on to "participate an issue that will not cease to surprise you, whose very idea, with its struggles, does not leave me alone for 1 year, tormenting my mind”.
He had had the will to tell them out loud before, but he was postponing it so as "not to confuse their heads."
The point is that he has spent, he says, "2 years imprisoned in an office, where I have made the sacrifice of not being able to admire the great beauties of nature that have me in love." He has dedicated himself to commerce “without having any vocation for it, only letting myself be guided by you, who do not fully know my true aspirations and I, on the other hand, without having first consulted my heart, and not listening to the voice of my awareness that called the painting for which I was born”.
And concluding: “I give up, then, my current life to dedicate myself to painting”.
The text of the letter was known, but it is moving to see the original up close. This document, harsh for the parents and without a doubt liberating for itself, from a man about to turn eighteen, challenges us in the present, with that radicalism of someone who sees two different paths open before him and decides on one, the which seems more difficult.
Trade, however, left its mark on the young artist, who throughout his life would continue to document his work in record books, with the “must” and “credit” clearly visible, and that can also be seen in the stupendous exhibition of the Fundació Miró.
exposure
I look. The most intimate legacy
A project by Marko Daniel, together with Elena Escolar and Dolors Rodríguez Roig. With the collaboration of the Banco Sabadell Foundation.
Miró Foundation, Barcelona, until 26/09/2022
Books
Josep Massot
The boy who talked with the trees / The boy who talked with the trees
Joan Miró under the Franco regime, 1940-1983
Both in editorial Galaxia Gutenberg
