Pic's Loves

Muse [myooz] –noun

2. the goddess or the power regarded as inspiring a poet, artist, thinker, or the like.

Last month Vanity Fair had what I call a perfect little treat of an article. I do appreciate reading about politics, finance, society, etc, but the articles that retain my loving gaze often combine art, love and biography. This Picasso story had exactly that.

From what I know of the man, it seems difficult to disconnect Picasso’s work from his women. So many of his pieces are either of his women (obviously or cryptically) or inspired by them. They were his muses as well as his subjects.

The article didn’t surprise me, but I did find the logistics of how he kept his women separate intriguing. For instance he would put them up in apartments in different cities. He would paint his mistress within the guise of a musical instrument to hide from his wife that he’d painted her. But in most cases it seems they usually found out about each other, and there’s a part in the article about his then wife and mistress duking it out.

After reading the article I considered two things:

1. Whether, even knowing the kind of genius I was married to, if I could withstand years and years of a wandering, um, paintbrush. Not just wandering, but often dipped in true love.
2. If Picasso would have been so prolific and successful an artist had he been married to one woman all his life, or at least narrowed his field. (I’m sure there are books and books written about this subject, but I haven’t read them, so I’m making my own assumptions.)

What I’ve read about Picasso has made me adore his life. His circle of friends was one of fantasy. In Everybody Was So Young, Picasso appears (as do Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway) at the Murphy’s place in the French Riviera. During the time he’s welcomed by Gerald and Sara Murphy, he paints her and adds to their generally glamorous life. His appearances are some of the more enjoyable parts of the book that ends tragically.

Throughout his life, he surrounds himself with passionate and incredible people like Gertrude Stein, Henri Matisse, the Murphy’s, Jean Cocteau, Igor Stravinsky, and many other artists and writers.

So if I didn’t have children, I’d say the answer to #1 is yes, sign me up. I don’t think I’d pass up a life so fascinating and deeply rich in beauty. But as they say, children change EVERYTHING, including what you’re willing to endure. So, no thank you, I’ll stick with my tech geek. (Also I grew up with an artist and, no offense dad, family life has enough drama already.)

For #2, I’m going with no as well. Yes, he was raised by an art professor. And yes, he probably never hung out with a boring person for more than 5 minutes. But we’re talking about lovely women here. Naked ones.

If he had only chosen subjects that he was not in love with, would he have been as inspired? Would his paintings have been as impassioned? Would he have been able to see the soul of a woman enough to paint her in a hundred colors without having slept with her? As intensely inspiring as I know love is, in this case, I don’t think so.

One day I’ll read his biography and get a deeper understanding of his influences and motivations. But for today I’ll stick with one of my favorite romantic notions; the belief that love, and her muses, have the greatest power to inspire greatness.