Iola Lenzi and art historian Pierre Daix discuss the politics of Picasso

Last month, the Singapore Tyler Print Institute opened an exhibition of  copperplate etchings made by Pablo Picasso in the 1930s. The display, which is on view until 7 July, is significant because it is Singapore’s first-ever Picasso solo show. To mark the occasion, and to introduce Picasso’s lesser-known artform, STPI invited French art historian Pierre Daix to give a few lectures. Not only is Daix a leading authority on Picasso, he was also an intimate friend of  the painter, who died in 1973. So who better to explain the mind of  the artist? Time Out Singapore took the opportunity to sit down with Daix and discuss the political mind of  this twentieth-century colossus, and compare Picasso’s take on society with that of  some South-East Asian artists working today.

Pablo Picasso was, of course, the great pioneer of modern art in the twentieth century. How did the extraordinary length of his career affect his view of his times?
Picasso lived to be 91 and witnessed and experienced first-hand many of  the most momentous social and political  events of  the previous century. I am talking about the rise of  communism in Russia, World War I in Europe, the ascent of  fascism and particularly the Francoist victory in Spain, World War II, decolonisation, and the Cold War of  the postwar period that culminated with the Cuban Missile Crisis in 1963.

Some have suggested that Picasso cared little for politics, because only a few of his works address those themes. But isn’t the question more about how he approached political issues when he did incorporate them into his art?
The question of  Picasso’s involvement in, and expression of, politics is complex. Picasso was certainly interested in politics and society. He was always extremely sensitive to his environment and his artistic output reflected this, even if  the broader view was then conjugated with what he experienced on a personal level, such as the power of  his romantic liaisons at a particular time. He was, from his youth, a committed pacifist, so war and revolution could not fail to affect him deeply.

As our region goes through a period of intense and rapid transition similar to Europe in the first half of the twentieth century, many  local artists are grappling with an issue that probably touched Picasso and his contemporaries: how far to let the exterior world into their art and whether art has a role to play in healing society. What was Picasso’s perspective on the subject?
Picasso was principally interested in the language of  painting and his role in pushing that language to new frontiers. He was prepared to discuss politics with a few intimate friends – I was one of  these – but it was understood by all of  us that his opinions were never to be repeated beyond our circle. Though he joined the French Communist Party in 1944 and remained a member until his death, he did not like his views to interfere with his art. He was led by his art and wanted what came out of  his creations to be unadulterated by the distortion that the sharing of  political ideas often seems to bring. He did not conceive of  his art being in the service of  causes, but this does not mean that politics were not in his art. His expressive vision was a non-exclusive whole that never distanced itself  from a life in which politics existed.

So the iconic 1937 masterpiece ‘Guernica’, which graphically denounced the aerial bombing of the Spanish town of the same name, was a rare exception in its direct statement of a clear political point of view?

Yes, ‘Guernica’ and a few other works were exceptions. Of  all the political events of  the twentieth century that marked Picasso, Franco’s fascist takeover of  Spain in the 1930s disturbed him most. Because Picasso was a pacifist, Franco’s military government shocked him more than any other might have. He lived in France most of  his life but never gave up his Spanish passport.

How were ‘Guernica’ and ‘Le Charnier’, another of Picasso’s political canvases, painted at the end of World War II, received by the public?
They were ill received. These are very dark works, shocking in their pessimism and violence.

Picasso created few overtly political works, but those he did had a hugely powerful impact.
This is why I say Picasso’s relationship with politics was complicated. The effect, when he did give himself  over to the theme, was against the current and people often took a while to understand and digest it.

In South-East Asia today, artists tend to be of two kinds: those who make art for art’s sake, and those who address political issues, be it directly or obliquely. Was Picasso unique in his day in not being in one camp or another?
A great artist like Picasso, who modifies the course of  art history, is likely to be a revolutionary. Picasso was a total radical and followed no one. As a result he did not fall into camps in the usual way. His political ideology was not of  secondary importance to him, though he was perhaps more natural with it than artists are today, or the artists you describe from this part of  the world. His thoughts about society were part of  a whole that also included huge subjects like love, sexuality and death. Another of  Picasso’s differences was that though absolutely independent in his art, he never cared to explain it.

Since Picasso refused to interpret his work publicly, the public read all kinds of meanings into it. And what people most often read is a universal expression of truth.
This is one of  the numerous paradoxes at the heart of  Picasso’s art. The artist courageous enough to be faithful only to himself  must inevitably make a lasting mark and touch the world, even if  many do not at first understand his language. ‘Pablo Picasso: The Vollard Suite’ is at Singapore Tyler Print Institute until 7 July. See Listings, Other spaces.