Out of sheer joy in the art of Picasso, (and as an owner of a signed work on paper, think “Corrida” ) you might say I’m an aficionado…but I was very disappointed in the sheer commercialism towards the end of his life, undoubtedly promoted by family. I enjoyed this comment from an artsy fartsy newsletter I follow by one of its’ contributors Tim Schneider.
I have never met Mr. Schneider but was relieved in a sense to know the gravitational repulsion away from these ceramic plates were not just a cosmic reaction to what looked to me to be perfectly capable flying ceramic smiling disk frisbees, but was truly a rejection of crass commercialism. The photos below are my own. I so objected to these ceramic plates I failed to take a photo or any photos of them. So alas, I can not present them here. The photos below are my own. la
Pablo Picasso’s Ceramic Plates
at the Museu Picasso, Barcelona
Reader, I laughed so hard that all the photos I tried to take at the time were too blurry to use. To me, the only real value in these pieces is as cautionary tales. They are vivid reminders that even the most colossal talents can churn out ridiculous dreck, and it’s on all of us to look past the creator’s reputation and call it like it is.
Offsetting a number of genuinely compelling works on view at the Museu Picasso this January was a gallery centered on a large vitrine full of the artist’s ceramic plates, each one featuring some variation on… an enormous smiley face. Sun smileys! Painted smileys! Embossed smileys! All displayed solemnly under glass inside an ornate Gothic interior alongside a dedicated security guard as if they were the pinnacle of artistic achievement.
Photos by & property of the Author, L. A. Chancey, all copyrights acknowledged.
Above the Gothic styled room in which the ceramic plates were lying behind protective glass cabinetry. The lack of continuing this paltry public display is sufficient to offset shock at seeing such crassness.