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In 1966, recuperating from stomach surgery, Pablo Picasso was bedridden for months and unable to work. He turned to his favorite classic literature to fill the time, re-reading Spanish Golden Age epics, novels by Dickens and Balzac, and plays by Shakespeare. It was Dumas’ The Three Musketeers, however, that truly captivated the artist; the bold and spirited heroes resonated deeply with Picasso, who read and reread the novel until he knew it by heart. According to Pierre Daix, as soon as the artist was back on his feet, “he wanted to know whether his creative powers had been affected. The Mousquetaires series… with its evocation of an entire world, was part of this rediscovery and recovery of self” (Picasso: Life and Art, New York, 1987, p. 363).

By 1969, the sword-wielding, swashbuckling musketeer had become the central character of his late oeuvre, serving as a powerful psychological avatar through which the artist reflected on his enduring vitality, virility, and creative spirit in the final chapter of his life. That year, the artist began working on a series of large-format canvases on this theme. Among the most sophisticated and abstract of the series is Homme assis. Towering over 50 inches in height, this commanding depiction of a seated musketeer—distinguished by his sweeping mustache and extravagant hat—embodies Picasso’s relentless innovation even in his most mature years. While evoking the sun-drenched memories of his Mediterranean past, the composition transforms these recollections into bold abstract motifs and vibrant blocks of color. One of Picasso’s most strikingly graphic works, the piece juxtaposes a meticulously rendered black-and-white face with dynamic bursts of yellow, green, and blue. The stark contrasts, expressive brushwork, and electrifying color fields distill the image to its very essence, amplifying its intensity and impact.

Even in his final years, Picasso remained at the vanguard of artistic experimentation, demonstrating that true clarity and power arise not from refinement, but from raw, unfiltered expression. As John Richardson observed, “The surface of the late paintings has a freedom, a plasticity, that was never there before; they are more spontaneous, more expressive, and more instinctive than virtually all his previous work” (Exh. Cat., London, Tate Gallery, Late Picasso, Paintings, Sculpture, Drawings, Prints 1953-1972,1988, pp. 31-34). Included in his landmark 1970 exhibition at Avignon's Palais des Papes—chosen by the artist himself for the site’s historicity and which became a posthumous exhibition when he died in April 1973—the present work exemplifies Picasso's indefatigable creativity and reflections on his own legacy. It also helped define the artist’s legacy just following his death.

Painted with an extraordinary sense of energy and urgency, the present work bears witness to the creative force that characterized Picasso's late years, in which he remarked, “I have less and less time, and I have more and more to say” (quoted in Klaus Gallwitz, Picasso Laureatus, Lausanne & Paris, 1971, p. 166).

Color plays a crucial role in Homme assis, not only in its immediate impact but in its deep connection to Picasso’s past, particularly his years at La Californie in the 1950s. The bright, sunlit hues—yellows, blues, and greens—harken back to the Mediterranean light that filled his Cannes studio, where he painted surrounded by lush plants and sweeping sea views. The architecture of La Californie, a Belle Époque villa with large arched windows, often acted as a natural framing device within his compositions, a technique that finds an echo in Homme assis.

The three circular forms in the upper left of the painting correspond to architectural elements from his studio, much like how Henri Matisse, one of Picasso’s greatest rivals and inspirations, used window motifs in works such as Intérieur au rideau égyptien where palm trees frame the interior scene. Here, Picasso similarly incorporates a structural rhythm that links the background to the figure, suggesting both an enclosed studio space and the open expanse of nature beyond. The bursts of color surrounding the musketeer seem to vibrate with the energy of the Côte d'Azur, imbuing the painting with a sense of place and memory. Even as Picasso confronted his own mortality in these late works, he infused them with the vitality of his surroundings, transforming personal recollection into pure, exuberant color.

Picasso’s use of veiled self-depictions in his work can be traced back to his earliest masterpieces. Beginning in his Blue and Rose periods, melancholy saltimbanques and harlequins populated his compositions. Later, he would add minotaurs and bullfighters to his repertoire of alter egos—each representing different aspects of Picasso’s personality and different stages of his life. As Marie-Laure Bernadac observed: "If woman was depicted in all her aspects in Picasso's art, man always appeared in disguise or in a specific role, painter at work or a musketeer...Picasso seldom depicted himself directly, choosing instead to have thematic characters personify him" (Brigitte Léal, Christine Piot, and Marie-Laure Bernadac, The Ultimate Picasso, New York, 2000, p. 457). Ultimately, it was the glorious musketeer through which the artist expressed his vitality, erotic desires, mortal anxiety, and, of course, his ambition to be remembered as the great master that he was.

For an artist whose trajectory was marked by constant exploration and creativity, Picasso recognized the importance of his last years as a defining period of his entire career. Turning to artistic masters of the past, particularly seventeenth-century artists Rembrandt and Velázquez, Picasso used the musketeer as his own return to the golden age of painting, enabling him to pay homage to his influences and insert himself into the narrative. "In old age," John Richardson noted, "Picasso would admit to being very conscious of old masters breathing down his neck. Far from being bothered by this, he was so secure in his genius that he conjured master after master into the heart of his work and had his way with them" (A Life of Picasso: The Early Years, London, 1992, vol. 1, p. 185).

Among these influences, it was Rembrandt with whom Picasso engaged most profoundly during the 1960s. He increasingly identified with the Dutch master, who, like Picasso, enjoyed a long career and often inserted himself into his compositions. Picasso was particularly drawn to Rembrandt’s sketches and prints, with his wife, Jacqueline Roque, revealing to André Malraux that it was this art that inspired the musketeers. Influenced by Rembrandt’s self-portraits, which confront mortality, Picasso’s musketeers also displayed enormous complexity: the amorous lover, the brave adventurer, the pomp and power of their stature, and the transience of their roles.

Picasso was also inspired by more modern masters; Vincent van Gogh became the artist's "patron saint," and Picasso frequently evoked him with admiration and compassion. In particular, the bright yellow elements around the musketeer’s hat reference van Gogh's affinity for the color. Homme assis alludes to Van Gogh’s 1887 Self-Portrait with a Straw Hat, captured in the yellow hat, the chiaroscuro of the face, and the focused gaze. By blending this homage with the musketeer, Picasso makes a powerful statement about his artistic legacy.

While the iconography of Homme assis finds its roots in years past, Picasso’s painterly style aligns with the formalist concerns of the Post-War abstract masters. Rendered on a soaring scale, Picasso paints the present work with vigor and full gestures, some areas emerging as abstract motifs in the background and lower register, while others dissolve into pure abstraction. The broad, flat fields of color recall the work of Hans Hofmann, while the work's stark graphic quality and use of negative and positive space bring to mind the compositions of Franz Kline, whose paintings give equal importance to both the white and black areas of the canvas, rather than treating the white as merely negative space.

In the present work, Picasso prominently signs Picasso in bright fuchsia, reminiscent of his paintings in which he would sign his name with his partner Jacqueline Roque’s nail varnish—a flourish seen in some of Picasso’s most notable works, namely Femme à la montre, which achieved over $120 million last fall.

As the artist's granddaughter Diana Widmaier Picasso wrote of such works, “You can hardly avoid associating the dominant red of Picasso's signature with the red nail polish of Jacqueline, the companion of his final years” (Diana Widmaier Picasso, Picasso: 'Art Can Only Be Erotic', New York, 2005, pp. 29-30).

Even after completing Homme assis, Picasso continued painting at a fervent pace, completing 167 paintings between January 1969 and January 1970. His impetus to create as much as possible before the end inspired Christian Zervos to organize the 1970 exhibition at the Palais des Papes in Avignon. Amidst the Gothic arches and trefoil windows at what was the birth of the papacy, the exhibition featured all of Picasso’s work from the prior year, allowing visitors to experience the year alongside the artist and to live vicariously through him. In this monumental presentation of his great late oeuvre, Picasso'a Homme assis was flanked by Homme et femme, executed a week after the present work, and now in the collection of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

Zervos noted, “as with Titian in the past: the older he grew, the more his work exuded an impression of radiant youth” (in Eric Pace, “Avignon Shows Picasso’s Works,” The New York Times, 3 May 1970).


Artist

Pablo Picasso