Appendix A: Manuscript from the Collection of the Late Paul Eluard NOTE: Appendices A and B are translations of manuscripts written by de Chirico during his first Paris period, 1911--1915. FIRST PART What impressionism should be: A building, a garden, a statue, a person--each makes an impression upon us. The problem is to reproduce this im- pression in the most faithful possible fashion. Several paint- ers have been called impressionists who at bottom were not. In my opinion there is no point in using technical means (divisionism, pointillism, etc.) to try to give the illusion of what we call truth. For example, to paint a sunlit landscape trying in every way to give the sensation of light. Why? I too see the light; however well it may be reproduced, I also see it in nature, and a painting that has this for its purpose will never be able to give me the sensation of something new, of something that, previously, I have not known. While if a man faithfully reproduces the strange sensations that he feels, this can always give new joys to any sensitive and intelligent person. Impressionism and sensationalism: Those French impression- ist painters whom I would rather call sensationalists follow an excellent path. I believe thay are far ahead of the poets and writers who are their contemporaries. In any case there is much more novelty in what they do than in the whole of modern literature. I am talking of their work in so far as I compare it with the impression that modern painting as a whole makes on me. However I must add that though the road they follow is a good one, it is absolutely opposed to the one I follow, for I believe that one must never forget that a picture must always be the reflection of a profound sensation, and that profound means strange, and strange means uncommon or altogether unknown. Well, what is the impressionist method of procedure: they see something: a landscape, a figure, a still life; then using a certain technique to imitate what they see, they try to give to whoever looks at their painting a sensation which what they have reproduced could not give if it were seen in nature. Thus M. Cézanne, in painting a still life--a napkin with big squares, and some tomatoes or fruits--succeeds in giving us a sensation which could not be given by all the still lifes of the museums in which the fruits and vegetables are much truer--in the meaning generally given to truth, of course. It is a fact that this kind of painting is better than what is done generally; nevertheless, there are unfortunately limits to this, and besides, if one is sincere one must admit that in such a con- ception of art chance often, not to say always, plays a large role in what the painter does. In my way of thinking and working, the problem is differ- ent. Revelation always plays the principal role. A picture reveals itself to us, while the sight of something does not reveal a picture; but in this case the picture will not be a faithful copy of that which has caused its revelation, but will resemble it vaguely, as the face of someone seen in a dream resembles that person in reality. And in all this, technique plays no role; the whole sensation will be given by the linear composition of the picture, which in this case always gives the impression of being something unchangeable, where chance has never entered. A revelation can be born of a sudden, when one least expects it, and also can be stimulated by the sight of something--a building, a street, a garden, a square, etc. In the first instance it belongs to a class of strange sensations which I have observed in only one man: Nietzsche. When Nietzsche talks of how Zarathustra was conceived, and says: "I was surpris- ed by Zarathustra," in this participle--surprised, is con- tained the whole enigma of sudden revelation.--When [on the other hand] a revelation grows out of the sight of an arrangement of objects, then the work which appears in our thoughts is closely linked with the circumstance that has provoked its birth. One resembles the other, but in a very strange way, like the resemblance there is between two brothers, or rather between the image of someone we know seen in a dream, and that person in reality; it is, and at the same time it is not, that same person; it is as if there had been a slight and mysterious transfiguration of the features. I believe and have faith that, from certain points of view, the sight of someone in a dream is proof of his metaphysical reality--in certain accidental occurences that sometimes happen to us; in the manner and the arrangement that things appear to us and awaken in us unknown sensations of joy and surprise: the sensations of revelation. Paris -244- |