.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
.jpg?w=1)
Lot Essay
In a letter to the Surrealist poet Paul Eluard dated 30 January 1937, René Magritte included a sketch of the latest painting that he was working on that winter – the enigmatic, yet playful, La jeunesse illustrée. ‘The countryside in bright sunlight,’ he wrote, describing the present composition to Eluard. ‘A cloudy sky, however – on the road, first a barrel, a plaster female bust, a trumpet, a seated lion, a table, a cage with a bird, a bicycle, a bed, while further on, although not easily distinguishable, there are other objects on the road’ (quoted in D. Sylvester, ed., René Magritte, Catalogue raisonné, London, 1993, vol. II, p. 234). Focusing on the connections between this seemingly random collection of familiar items, characters and objects, La jeunesse illustrée offers a dream-like scenario in which a strange procession forms along a country path as it curves gently through the picturesque landscape. Evenly spaced and precisely rendered, the different elements appear to be organised into a parade of sorts, each at once strikingly familiar, and yet strangely unexpected in their presence within the scene.
As Magritte explained in his seminal lecture ‘La ligne de vie,’ delivered in Antwerp in November 1938, the dislocation and juxtaposition of such quotidian, ordinary items was central to his Surrealist vision, and his desire to achieve a ‘disturbing poetic effect’ in his paintings. ‘The creation of new objects, the transformation of known objects; a change of substance in the case of certain objects… the use of certain visions glimpsed between sleeping and waking,’ he declared, ‘such in general were the means devised to force objects out of the ordinary, to become sensational, and so establish a profound link between consciousness and the real world’ (‘La ligne de vie,’ in G. Ollinger-Zinque & F. Leen, eds., René Magritte, 1898-1967: Centenary Exhibition, exh. cat., Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique, Brussels, 1998, p. 46).
Magritte found inspiration for the motifs in the present La jeunesse illustrée from a myriad of sources – the stately, seated lion, for example, is taken from a page titled ‘furs’ in a richly illustrated edition of the Larousse dictionaire encyclopédique, where a collage of wild cats from around the world are shown together, the individual markings of each animal carefully delineated and recorded. The plaster bust, meanwhile, features in several other paintings by the artist from this period, while the brass tuba appears to have been among Magritte’s personal possessions, featuring in a photograph of the so-called ‘junk room’ of the artist’s home in Brussels. Though rooted in our everyday reality, Magritte upends the seeming normality of these motifs by placing them together in this strange procession – the connection between each object and the purpose of their collective wanderings through the landscape remain a complete mystery to us. There is a strong sense of progression through the scene, as if the objects are actively moving towards the viewer, a feeling accentuated by the way in which the large table is angled slightly off centre, as if it is about to travel down the secondary pathway that shoots off towards the fence on the left hand side of the canvas, perhaps indicating an alternate route to their destination, or a signal of the table’s intentions to break from the crowd and make its way to another place entirely.
The composition of La jeunesse illustrée was still fresh in Magritte’s imagination when he travelled to London in February 1937, just a few weeks after putting the finishing touches to the painting. He had been invited to spend an extended sojourn in the city by the famed English collector and early patron of Surrealism, Edward James, who hosted Magritte for two months at his home on Wimpole Street. James had discovered the artist’s work at the ‘International Surrealist Exhibition’ at the New Burlington Galleries the previous year, and the pair subsequently spent a short time together in Paris, where they visited several museums. The invitation to London resulted in a major artistic commission for Magritte – a triptych of oil paintings intended for James’s ballroom, which would be set into the walls behind two-way mirrors, so that the images suddenly became visible when illuminated by electric lights cleverly positioned behind the glass.
While James and Magritte had previously discussed ideas for two of the three panels, settling on new variants of Le modèle rouge (Sylvester, no. 428; Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam) and Au seuil de la liberté (Sylvester, no. 430; The Art Institute of Chicago), Magritte proposed the more recent La jeunesse illustrée as inspiration for the third panel (Sylvester, no. 429; Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam). James was pleased with the idea, and Magritte set to work adapting the composition for the project, most notably switching from the original horizontal orientation of the present painting to a vertical canvas, working on a larger scale to match the other two pieces intended for the ballroom. He also took the opportunity to change a number of details within the landscape, shifting the direction of the pathway, removing the small pool of water in the foreground, and moving the bank of trees into the far distance, along the horizon line.
Magritte also adjusted the selection and order of the objects along the pathway in this later variant, shifting the seated lion into a more prominent position towards the front of the parade, pushing the tuba further down the line, while the wooden table from the original was replaced by a billiards table mid-game. These edits appear to have been determined by the later work’s intended setting at Wimpole Street – some of the new elements within the painting, such as the armchair, the globe and the ladder, were most likely inspired by the furniture and décor of James’s home, while the overcast sky of the present La jeunesse illustrée was replaced by a brighter, blue vista that finds parallels in the square of sky in James’s Au seuil de la liberté. The panels proved a triumph when they were installed, with James writing to the artist that spring after their unveiling: ‘Your paintings produced a profound sensation at my ball. The evening, La jeunesse illustrée prompted many conversions to Surrealism among the British youth’ (quoted in A. Umland, ed., Magritte: The Mystery of the Ordinary, 1926-1938, exh. cat., The Museum of Modern Art, New York, 2013, p. 199).
The present La jeunesse illustrée was acquired shortly after Magritte’s return from London by Paul-Henri Spaak, the future Prime Minister of Belgium, who had been introduced to the artist’s work by his brother, Claude, in the mid-1930s. A playwright and author, Claude Spaak was actively engaged with the Belgian Surrealist movement, and a keen supporter and promoter of Magritte’s work. Together, the Spaak brothers’ support proved essential for the advances Magritte made in his art during the 1930s, allowing him to concentrate fully on the development of his thought and craft. Many of the most iconic images that recur throughout Magritte’s oeuvre first appeared during this incredibly fertile period of his life and career, as his distinct style solidified and evolved. The concept behind La jeunesse illustrée was later used as a backdrop for the portrait Claude commissioned of his children, Paul-Louis and Lucie from Magritte (Sylvester, no. 439; Private collection), the parade of objects lined up along the curving pathway glimpsed through the window between the two children. La jeunesse illustrée remained with Paul-Henri Spaak for almost four decades, and was acquired by the family of the present owners almost fifty years ago.
As Magritte explained in his seminal lecture ‘La ligne de vie,’ delivered in Antwerp in November 1938, the dislocation and juxtaposition of such quotidian, ordinary items was central to his Surrealist vision, and his desire to achieve a ‘disturbing poetic effect’ in his paintings. ‘The creation of new objects, the transformation of known objects; a change of substance in the case of certain objects… the use of certain visions glimpsed between sleeping and waking,’ he declared, ‘such in general were the means devised to force objects out of the ordinary, to become sensational, and so establish a profound link between consciousness and the real world’ (‘La ligne de vie,’ in G. Ollinger-Zinque & F. Leen, eds., René Magritte, 1898-1967: Centenary Exhibition, exh. cat., Musées Royaux des Beaux-Arts de Belgique, Brussels, 1998, p. 46).
Magritte found inspiration for the motifs in the present La jeunesse illustrée from a myriad of sources – the stately, seated lion, for example, is taken from a page titled ‘furs’ in a richly illustrated edition of the Larousse dictionaire encyclopédique, where a collage of wild cats from around the world are shown together, the individual markings of each animal carefully delineated and recorded. The plaster bust, meanwhile, features in several other paintings by the artist from this period, while the brass tuba appears to have been among Magritte’s personal possessions, featuring in a photograph of the so-called ‘junk room’ of the artist’s home in Brussels. Though rooted in our everyday reality, Magritte upends the seeming normality of these motifs by placing them together in this strange procession – the connection between each object and the purpose of their collective wanderings through the landscape remain a complete mystery to us. There is a strong sense of progression through the scene, as if the objects are actively moving towards the viewer, a feeling accentuated by the way in which the large table is angled slightly off centre, as if it is about to travel down the secondary pathway that shoots off towards the fence on the left hand side of the canvas, perhaps indicating an alternate route to their destination, or a signal of the table’s intentions to break from the crowd and make its way to another place entirely.
The composition of La jeunesse illustrée was still fresh in Magritte’s imagination when he travelled to London in February 1937, just a few weeks after putting the finishing touches to the painting. He had been invited to spend an extended sojourn in the city by the famed English collector and early patron of Surrealism, Edward James, who hosted Magritte for two months at his home on Wimpole Street. James had discovered the artist’s work at the ‘International Surrealist Exhibition’ at the New Burlington Galleries the previous year, and the pair subsequently spent a short time together in Paris, where they visited several museums. The invitation to London resulted in a major artistic commission for Magritte – a triptych of oil paintings intended for James’s ballroom, which would be set into the walls behind two-way mirrors, so that the images suddenly became visible when illuminated by electric lights cleverly positioned behind the glass.
While James and Magritte had previously discussed ideas for two of the three panels, settling on new variants of Le modèle rouge (Sylvester, no. 428; Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam) and Au seuil de la liberté (Sylvester, no. 430; The Art Institute of Chicago), Magritte proposed the more recent La jeunesse illustrée as inspiration for the third panel (Sylvester, no. 429; Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, Rotterdam). James was pleased with the idea, and Magritte set to work adapting the composition for the project, most notably switching from the original horizontal orientation of the present painting to a vertical canvas, working on a larger scale to match the other two pieces intended for the ballroom. He also took the opportunity to change a number of details within the landscape, shifting the direction of the pathway, removing the small pool of water in the foreground, and moving the bank of trees into the far distance, along the horizon line.
Magritte also adjusted the selection and order of the objects along the pathway in this later variant, shifting the seated lion into a more prominent position towards the front of the parade, pushing the tuba further down the line, while the wooden table from the original was replaced by a billiards table mid-game. These edits appear to have been determined by the later work’s intended setting at Wimpole Street – some of the new elements within the painting, such as the armchair, the globe and the ladder, were most likely inspired by the furniture and décor of James’s home, while the overcast sky of the present La jeunesse illustrée was replaced by a brighter, blue vista that finds parallels in the square of sky in James’s Au seuil de la liberté. The panels proved a triumph when they were installed, with James writing to the artist that spring after their unveiling: ‘Your paintings produced a profound sensation at my ball. The evening, La jeunesse illustrée prompted many conversions to Surrealism among the British youth’ (quoted in A. Umland, ed., Magritte: The Mystery of the Ordinary, 1926-1938, exh. cat., The Museum of Modern Art, New York, 2013, p. 199).
The present La jeunesse illustrée was acquired shortly after Magritte’s return from London by Paul-Henri Spaak, the future Prime Minister of Belgium, who had been introduced to the artist’s work by his brother, Claude, in the mid-1930s. A playwright and author, Claude Spaak was actively engaged with the Belgian Surrealist movement, and a keen supporter and promoter of Magritte’s work. Together, the Spaak brothers’ support proved essential for the advances Magritte made in his art during the 1930s, allowing him to concentrate fully on the development of his thought and craft. Many of the most iconic images that recur throughout Magritte’s oeuvre first appeared during this incredibly fertile period of his life and career, as his distinct style solidified and evolved. The concept behind La jeunesse illustrée was later used as a backdrop for the portrait Claude commissioned of his children, Paul-Louis and Lucie from Magritte (Sylvester, no. 439; Private collection), the parade of objects lined up along the curving pathway glimpsed through the window between the two children. La jeunesse illustrée remained with Paul-Henri Spaak for almost four decades, and was acquired by the family of the present owners almost fifty years ago.