Maurice ESTÈVE (1904–2001). 13 letters, 1967–1972, to the pa - Lot 221

Lot n° 221
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600 - 800 EUR
Maurice ESTÈVE (1904–2001). 13 letters, 1967–1972, to the pa - Lot 221
Maurice ESTÈVE (1904–2001). 13 letters, 1967–1972, to the painter Philippe Taillardat and his wife Colette; 37 pages in quarto and octavo formats (including 3 postcards), envelopes. A long and beautiful exchange of friendly and artistic correspondence, often written in a whimsical and ironic tone. 1969. – February 2: “Good. Good. It’s good. Let’s smoke the peace pipe in euphoria and reread Unamuno (that little bouquet is interesting—thank you; I’ll return it to you when we next meet). At Balzar’s, we’ll ask the waiter for your ‘Offensé drape’ and, once we’ve found it, we’ll generously give it to him as a gift so that he’ll remember de Frégoli—also known as Père Pipi—between serving Marennes oysters at the tables…”… – April 23: “In the early morning mist, it seems to me that I was a little too… ironic. […] No doubt I had remained excessively silent and taciturn for some time, shut away within the walls of the Prince’s Ivory Tower […] Forgive me, Philippe, for my enthusiasm regarding “Frégoli” and my fondness for certain drawings by Millet that sometimes remind me of those by Seurat… But we can always smoke the peace pipe in front of Daumier”… – September 13: “‘They say’ that the Légers from the Nathan Cummings collection currently on display at Galliera are very beautiful […]. ‘They say’ also that the Paleolithic art at the Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye is worth the trip”… – Culan, September 22: “The Berry sun, at this temperature, is devouring me. Already, the waters of Bourbon had done me the greatest harm […] This ‘Bulletin du Salon de la jeune peinture,’ Philippe, what on earth have I done to you that you’d invite me to read it? No matter how hard I search the aisles of my little Sorbonne library, I can’t see […] where I went wrong to deserve this dry bread… How old-fashioned! How boring! Not a whiff of humor, alas. […] Why did the École des Beaux-Arts and the Institut, so far away on the blue-tinged horizon of the Vosges, remain the insurmountable, envied, and disdainful Promised Land, standing in the way of our hopes, which were nothing but mirages?”... January 25, 1972: “As for your husband, whose silence is troubling (could he have some mysterious grievances against me? Does he resent me for having returned under the mantle of our Holy Mother the Church? Or for stubbornly refusing to be drafted into the army of abstraction, collective Informel, or individual Figuration?... does he still resent me for painting in the shadow of the Black flag while he covers canvases in Lakrylyke (sasé kri komessa?) under the blue, white, and red anti-Dreyfusard flags?”… Etc.
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