Lot 79
  • 79

Francis Picabia

Estimate
120,000 - 180,000 GBP
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Description

  • Francis Picabia
  • GALA
  • signed Francis Picabia (lower centre)
  • brush and ink, watercolour, gouache and pencil on paper laid down on card
  • 62.5 by 47cm.
  • 24 5/8 by 18 1/2 in.

Provenance

Tristan Tzara, Zurich
Brook Street Gallery, London
Burt Kleiner, Los Angeles (acquired from the above circa 1965)
Thence by descent to the present owner

Catalogue Note

Dada flared up in cities across Europe as a nihilistic expression of cultural trauma following the collective homicide of World War I. At the vanguard of the movement were Francis Picabia and the poet Paul Eluard, whose wife Gala is the subject of this work. Gala was to serve as a muse to Eluard, who made her the subject of several poems, to Max Ernst and later to the Surrealists (she would marry Salavador Dali in 1932).

Dating from the time when Dada was unleashed in France, Gala is a superb example of Picabia's 'mechanomorphism', which helped define the visual identity of Parisian Dada. It overlays abstraction, collage and readymade graphic design - typical anti-art strategies used by the Dadaists to undermine traditional orthodoxies. Amid the largely outraged critical community, some perceptive observers noted an apparent paradox in Picabia's works: AndrĂ© Warnod, in his review of the Salon d'Automne, noted '[i]t is strange that Picabia, who denies wanting to make a work of art, nevertheless comes, by his natural gifts, to compose a harmony of colours whose rapports are an enchantment' (A. Warnod, 'Le Salon d'Automne' in L'Avenir, Paris, 16th October 1920). While on one level Gala is representative of Dada's attempts to subvert artistic traditions, it is also in its own right an exquisite and moving portrait of this seminal figure.

L'amoureuse
Paul Eluard

She is standing on my lids
And her hair is in my hair
She has the colour of my eye
She has the body of my hand
In my shade she is engulfed
As a stone against the sky

She will never close her eyes
And she does not let me sleep
And her dreams in the bright day
Make the suns evaporate
And me laugh cry and laugh
Speak when I have nothing to say

(translated by Samuel Beckett)