An odyssey peculiar to art and intellect – there is
much to be uncovered out there.
First stop, The Riattu, in Arles, France – to see the Picasso exhibit. Impressive,
masterful, effortless, and revealing of an aspect of Picasso’s work I hadn’t
been aware of. Naively, I questioned whether the images were as misogynistic as I perceived
them to be. I felt timid about suggesting such a thing about the great artist. It
could be that I had not seen works as confrontational as these; they were
pencil and ink sketches and seemed candid, unscripted. Since then, a simple web search
on “Picasso, misogynist” returns an abundance of dialogue to confirm that I am
not the first to have this impression. A picture is worth a thousand
words: Arlequin a la batte et jeune femme – Picasso.
Eleventh stop: It was late afternoon when we trudged back to our hotel after visiting at least ten other sites in Arles. Thankfully, we mustered the energy for one more exhibit, La Provence d'André Marchand, a decision that put me on the trail of La Tarasque. The paintings are on loan from the permanent collection of the Musee Estrine in Saint-Remy-de-Provence while it undergoes renovation. They are hung in the Chapel du Mejan, once the home of the Marino Wool Workers Union. Wooden floors, tall windows, colossal wooden beams above. I could almost smell the lanolin from the piles of wooly bales of long ago.
In
contrast to Picasso, Marchand’s images of women are so gentle, so forgiving, so
appreciative. I found myself thinking “What a contrast…look how the woman gently caresses
the savage (male) beast.” Again, admittedly, a romanticized and naïve interpretation.
Most of the paintings are very large. La Tarasque is six feet wide by four feet
high. The color, the depth and texture, the composition, the line, the charisma
of the characters, the tranquility and brightness in mood is so stimulating and
enchanting. I had an immediate sense of intimacy and familiarity like when meeting someone I
know I’ll be friends with.
Returned
home to the USA and gazing at the book I had purchased on the exhibit and the photograph of La Tarasque, I wondered about how La Tarasque translated and assumed it meant dragon or beast. An internet search resulted
in another nudge to my preconceptions by way of the simple fact that La Tarasque is a beast
indeed, but a female one! The story goes that La Tarasque terrorized the
villagers in Tarascon, situated on the Rhone between Arles and Avignon, back in
the days of dragons and during Jesus Christ’s lifetime. La Tarasque was subdued
by the gentle ministrations of one of Jesus’ friends, St Martha. Sadly for La
Tarasque, she was promptly put to death by the villagers, but her legend is
celebrated even today in an annual event in Tarascon- Les Fetes de La Tarascon –
an event I plan to attend one day.
In
a final twist to the dialogue between Picasso, Marchand, and I, regarding the
role of La Femme in art, I was confounded by a detail I had previously missed, in
Marchand’s Silence de la Tarasque, which is a certain decidedly male aspect of her form.
I decided to try my hand at interpreting the magical femme, and here she is, in batik:
More entertaining and informational information on La Tarasque can be found at:
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