Picasso on my mind

Quick trip to San Francisco this weekend: dinner with friends, followed by a play (including for no extra charge the world’s most annoying usher, who nagged patrons nonstop about a series of offenses that nobody was even committing) and then next day, a fine Picasso exhibit.

Picasso doesn't rank as my personal favorite, but I can appreciate a lot of what he did to define 20^th century art. That he lived to be 91 and was still active, growing in new creative directions, amazes me as much as the passion for life and art that burned brightly to his final days. A brief description of his love life, as detailed in Wikipedia, is exhausting to imagine, even at my comparatively young age:


In 1944, after the liberation of Paris, Picasso began a romantic relationship with a young art student named Francoise Gilot.  She was 40 years younger than he was.  Picasso grew tired of his mistress Dora Maar; Picasso and Gilot began to live together.  Eventually they had two children: Claude, born in 1947 and Paloma, born in 1949. In her 1964 book “Life with Picasso, (Gilot) describes his abusive treatment and myriad infidelities which led her to leave him, taking the children with her….

Picasso had affairs with women of an even greater age disparity than his and Gilot’s. While still involved with Gilot, in 1951, Picasso had a six-week affair with Genevieve Laporte, who was four years younger than Gilot.

Oh—and for the record, he was married during the time all these adventures took place. But this was a man who lived by his own rules, both artistic and personal. I’m torn between admiration and disgust at such a free spirit, knowing I could never live as he did, and yet wondering if maybe, at least to some extent, being a true artist means rebelling against all conventions.

Eventually, according to the experts, Picasso accepted the limitations of age. His later art apparently reflected a waning interest in young women, yet his love of life remained. His last words, spoken over dinner while entertaining friends in 1973 were nothing if not inspiring: "Drink to me, drink to my health, you know I can't drink any more."  


Here's to you, Pablo.