Being With (Etre Avec) by Roberto Matta

Being With (Etre Avec) by Roberto Matta

Being With (Etre Avec)
1946
Surrealism
Oil on canvas
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, USA

‘Being With (Etre Avec)’ is one of Matta’s ‘Social Morphology’ works and represents a direct response to the horrors of WW2. Matta’s expression in the menacing mechanical contraptions and the contorted, violated humanoid figures reflects his deep dismay.

Roberto Matta 1911-2002

Roberto Matta
Surrealism, Abstract Expressionism, Modern Art
Born: 11 November 1911, Santiago, Chile
Nationality: Chilean
Died: 23 November 2002, Civitavecchia, Italy

Matta was one of Chile’s best-known artists. He is a seminal figure of the abstract expressionist and surrealist art of the 20th -century

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda 1904-1973

If You Forget Me
1952

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine

Pablo Neruda
Born: 12 July 1904, Parral, Chile
Nationality: Chilean
Died: 23 September 1973, Santiago, Chile

Neruda was a poet-diplomat and politician who became known as a poet at age 13. He wrote in various styles including surrealist, and historical political

La Source du Calme (The Source of Calm) by Roberto Matta

La Source du Calme (The Source of Calm) by Roberto Matta

La Source du Calme (The Source of Calm)
2002
Abstract Expressionism
Carborundum etching on hand-made paper
RoGallery, Long Island City, NY, USA

‘La Source du Calme’ is Matta’s final work. It exhibits bright colours, simplified figures, and a spiritual mindset. Matta turned to more mystical and mythological themes in his latter work expressing similar sentiments as the authors of the Latin-American literary renaissance such as Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

Roberto Matta 1911-2002

Roberto Matta
Surrealism, Abstract Expressionism, Modern Art
Born: 11 November 1911, Santiago, Chile
Nationality: Chilean
Died: 23 November 2002, Civitavecchia, Italy

Matta was one of Chile’s best-known artists. He is a seminal figure of the abstract expressionist and surrealist art of the 20th -century

Etre Cible Nous Monde by Roberto Matta

Etre Cible Nous Monde by Roberto Matta

Etre Cible Nous Monde
1958
Surrealism
Oil on canvas
Private Collection

‘Etre Cible Nous Monde’ (Our Earth is a Target) exemplifies Matta’s work of the mid-1950s with a cosmic landscape dominated by a machine. The imagery and title suggest the paranoia and fear of the atomic age

Roberto Matta 1911-2002

Roberto Matta
Surrealism, Abstract Expressionism, Modern Art
Born: 11 November 1911, Santiago, Chile
Nationality: Chilean
Died: 23 November 2002, Civitavecchia, Italy

Matta was one of Chile’s best-known artists. He is a seminal figure of the abstract expressionist and surrealist art of the 20th -century

Don’t Go Far Off by Pablo Neruda

Don’t Go Far Off
1924

Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —
because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don’t leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don’t leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you’ll have gone so far
I’ll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda
Born: 12 July 1904, Parral, Chile
Nationality: Chilean
Died: 23 September 1973, Santiago, Chile

Neruda was a poet-diplomat and politician who became known as a poet at aged 13. He wrote in various styles including surrealist and historical political.

A Dog Has Died by Pablo Neruda

Title: A Dog Has Died

My dog has died.
I buried him in the garden
next to a rusted old machine.
Some day I'll join him right there,
but now he's gone with his shaggy coat,
his bad manners and his cold nose,
and I, the materialist, who never believed
in any promised heaven in the sky
for any human being,
I believe in a heaven I'll never enter.
Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom
where my dog waits for my arrival
waving his fan-like tail in friendship.
Ai, I'll not speak of sadness here on earth,
of having lost a companion
who was never servile.
His friendship for me, like that of a porcupine
withholding its authority,
was the friendship of a star, aloof,
with no more intimacy than was called for,
with no exaggerations:
he never climbed all over my clothes
filling me full of his hair or his mange,
he never rubbed up against my knee
like other dogs obsessed with sex.
No, my dog used to gaze at me,
paying me the attention I need,
the attention required
to make a vain person like me understand
that, being a dog, he was wasting time,
but, with those eyes so much purer than mine,
he'd keep on gazing at me
with a look that reserved for me alone
all his sweet and shaggy life,
always near me, never troubling me,
and asking nothing.
Ai, how many times have I envied his tail
as we walked together on the shores of the sea
in the lonely winter of Isla Negra
where the wintering birds filled the sky
and my hairy dog was jumping about
full of the voltage of the sea's movement:
my wandering dog, sniffing away
with his golden tail held high,
face to face with the ocean's spray.
Joyful, joyful, joyful,
as only dogs know how to be happy
with only the autonomy
of their shameless spirit.
There are no good-byes for my dog who has died,
and we don't now and never did lie to each other.
So now he's gone and I buried him,
and that's all there is to it

Poet: Pablo Neruda
Born: 12 July 1904, Parral, Chile
Nationality: Chilean
Died: 23 September 1973, Santiago, Chile

Neruda was a poet-diplomat and politician who became known as a poet at aged 13. He wrote in various styles including surrealist, and historical political.

Your Laughter by Pablo Neruda

Take bread away from me, if you wish,
take air away, but
do not take from me your laughter.

Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave
of silver born in you.

My struggle is harsh and I come back
with eyes tired
at times from having seen
the unchanging earth,
but when your laughter enters
it rises to the sky seeking me
and it opens for me all
the doors of life.

My love, in the darkest
hour your laughter
opens, and if suddenly
you see my blood staining
the stones of the street,
laugh, because your laughter
will be for my hands
like a fresh sword.

Next to the sea in the autumn,
your laughter must raise
its foamy cascade,
and in the spring, love,
I want your laughter like
the flower I was waiting for,
the blue flower, the rose
of my echoing country.

Laugh at the night,
at the day, at the moon,
laugh at the twisted
streets of the island,
laugh at this clumsy
boy who loves you,
but when I open
my eyes and close them,
when my steps go,
when my steps return,
deny me bread, air,
light, spring,
but never your laughter
for I would die.

Poet: Pablo Neruda
Born: 12 July 1904, Parral, Chile
Chilean
Died: 23 September 1973, Santiago, Chile