Paul Delvaux

Staempfli Gallery, New York
Acquired by the father of the present owner in 1967

Pittsburgh, Museum of Art, Carnegie Institute, The 1964 Pittsburgh International Exhibition of Contemporary Painting and Sculpture, 1964-65, no. 17
Detroit, The Detroit Institute of Arts, 40 Key Artists of the Mid-XXth Century, 1965, no. 15
New York, Staempfli Gallery, Paul Delvaux, 1965, no. 13
Brussels, Musée des Beaux-Arts d'Ixelles, Delvaux, 1967, no. 49, illustrated in the catalogue
L'Aquila, Castello Spagnolo, Alternative Attuali 3. Rassegna internazionale d'arte contemporanea, 1968, no. B.10, illustrated in the catalogue
Teheran; Baghdad, Musée Archéologique and Beirut, Musée Nicolas Sursock, Art belge contemporain, 1968-69
Paris, Musée des Arts Décoratifs, Rétrospective Paul Delvaux, 1969, no. 62, illustrated in colour in the catalogue
Rotterdam, Museum Boymans-van Beuningen, Paul Delvaux, 1973, no. 62, illustrated in colour in the catalogue
Knokke-Heist, Casino, Rétrospective Paul Delvaux, 1973, no. 51, illustrated in colour in the catalogue

Paul-Aloïse De Bock, Paul Delvaux. L'Homme, Le Peintre, Psychologie d'un art, Brussels, 1967, p. 231, pl. 155, illustrated
Léon-Louis Sosset, 'Au Musée d'Ixelles: Paul Delvaux ou le Surréalisme naturel', in Les Beaux-Arts, Brussels, 25th November 1967, no. 1183, p. 10, illustrated
Le Million. L'Encyclopédie de tous les pays du monde, Paris, 1970, vol. III, p. 70, illustrated in colour
Antoine Terrasse, Paul Delvaux, Paris, 1972, p. 27, illustrated
Antoine Terrasse and Jean Saucet, Paul Delvaux, Berlin, 1972, p. 27, illustrated
Michel Butor, Jean Clair and Suzanne Houbart-Wilkin, Delvaux, Brussels, 1975, p. 262, no. 284, illustrated

The mysterious oil paintings of Paul Delvaux are regarded as some of the most alluring examples of late Surrealist art. Although his paintings are renowned for their hallucinatory scenarios and dream-like imagery, the artist claimed not to be a proponent of the writings of Sigmund Freud and did not invest his compositions with the overtly psychoanalytic references that were favoured by Dalí, Miró and his fellow Belgian, René Magritte. Delvaux’s approach to painting was more subtle in its representation of the uncanny: without being overtly grotesque or offensive with his imagery, he interrupts the peacefulness and banality of a given scene with instances of the bizarre. Many of these pictures present a conventional architectural setting, like a railway station or a street corner (fig. 1), that is populated by expressionless and oddly lifeless women, usually depicted in the nude. The passivity of these women recalls the gentle beauty of a Botticelli (fig. 2) and adds a certain sense of timelessness to an otherwise localised scene. The blatancy and contextual inappropriateness of their nudity, however, overpowers any sensuality that can be derived from these pictures, leaving the viewer to contemplate the perplexing narrative of the composition. 

By the time he painted L’Offrande in 1963, Delvaux had gained international notoriety for his aesthetic. The scene here seems to be set in a contemporary suburban neighbourhood in northern Europe. Telephone poles and electric streetlights line the left side of the street, and an approaching distant figure, dressed in what appears to be a contemporary suit and a fedora, makes his way down the sidewalk. But this otherwise conventional scene is dramatically offset by the figure of the nude woman, carrying a red drape of questionable purpose and seemingly motionless in the middle of the street. The absurdity of her presence is reiterated by the nude woman standing in the loggia who extends her hand in what appears to be a gesture of offering, as implied by the title of the painting. Like the ominous and mysterious street scenes of de Chirico’s metaphysical paintings (fig. 3), the rigidity of the architecture and dramatic shadowing create a palpable sensation of danger and uncertainty and allude to whatever lurks beyond the boundaries of the picture.   

Delvaux shared a fascination with the effects of light and shadow with his fellow Belgian Surrealist René Magritte (fig. 4), and his mastery at manipulating colour to this end is demonstrated quite beautifully in the present work. As the glow of the setting sun bathes the composition in a bright yellow light, the figures cast imposing shadows in the direction of the viewer. The scene as a whole takes on an unsettling incandescence, and the viewer is thus left to consider the oddities of this ‘twilight zone.’ Another device that Delvaux employs for the same effect is the unlit lamp in the middle of the street. Its seeming purposelessness leads the viewer to question the light sources of the entire composition, and draws attention to the objects that the artist has selectively chosen to illuminate. Discussing Delvaux’s fascination with light in his paintings, Barbara Emerson wrote: "Delvaux uses light to great effect, almost as if he were manipulating theatrical equipment of spots and dimmers. With consummate skill, he contrasts cool white shafts of moonlight with the warm, gentle glow from an oil lamp" (B. Emerson, Delvaux, Paris and Antwerp, 1985, p. 174).

As with most of Delvaux's paintings, the meaning behind L’Offrande is somewhat ambiguous, and several assumptions can be made about what is actually being ‘offered’ by the woman in this painting. But throughout his career, Delvaux avoided providing any sort of narrative for these pictures, stating quite clearly: "I do not feel the need to give a temporal explanation of what I do, neither do I feel the need to account for my human subjects who exist only for the purpose of my painting. These figures recount no history: they are. Further, they express nothing in themselves..." (quoted in Paul Delvaux, 1897-1984 (exhibition catalogue), Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique, Brussels, 1997, p. 22).

Fig. 1, Paul Delvaux, L'Eloge du feu, 1963, oil on canvas, Private Collection
Fig. 2, Sandro Boticelli, The Birth of Venus, circa 1480, oil on panel, Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence
Fig. 3, Giorgio de Chirico, Les Joies et les énigmes d'une heure étrange, 1913, oil on canvas, Private Collection
Fig. 4, René Magritte, L'Empire des lumières, 1953-54, oil on canvas, The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, New York