Chagall. Sylvie Forestier

(but why?) character, which might be defined as organic and which calls to mind the ontological meaning of creation itself as set out in the writings of Berdiayev.

      Russian Village Under the Moon

      1911

      Oil on canvas, 126 × 104 cm

      Staatsgalerie Moderner Kunst, Munich

      This primordial outpouring of creativity which brought the admiration of Cendrars and Apollinaire, this imperious pictorial paganism which dictates its own law to the artist, sets forth an aesthetic and an ethic of predestination which, for our part, we would like to clarify. It is in the immediacy of Chagall’s pictorial practice, in the immediacy of each creative decision that his own identity lies, that he himself is to be found.

      Dedicated to My Fiancée

      1911

      Oil on canvas, 196 × 114.5 cm

      Kunstmuseum, Bern

      This self-revelation is related to us by Chagall himself. The autobiographical My Life, written in Russian, first appeared in 1931 in Paris, in a French translation by Bella Chagall. Providing us with extremely precious evidence of a whole part of the artist’s life, this text – tender, alert and droll – reveals behind its anecdotal nature the fundamental themes of his work and above all, its problematic character.

      Apollinaire

      1911

      Pencil on paper, 33.5 × 26 cm

      Collection of the artist’s family, France

      The tale as a whole is not moreover without some evocations of the artist’s biographies studied by Ernst Kris and Otto Kurz who set out a typology. From the first lines one’s attention is attracted by a singular phrase: “That which first leaped to my eyes was an angel!” Thus, the first hours of Chagall’s life were registered here specifically in visual terms. The tale begins in the tone of a parable and his life-story could not belong to anyone but a painter.

      Study for “The Rain”

      1911

      Gouache and pencil on cardboard, 22.5 × 30 cm

      Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow

      Chagall, who recalls the difficulties of his birth, writes: “But above all I was born dead. I did not want to live. Imagine a white bubble which does not want to live. As if it were stuffed with paintings by Chagall.” Thus, was living there perhaps meant to liberate that which lay inside him – painting?

      To Russia, Asses and Others

      1911–1912

      Oil on canvas, 156 × 122 cm

      Musée National d’Art Moderne, Paris

      The theme of vocation contained within this premonitory dream, the obvious sign of a unique predestination, seems to us to be even more significant in that it determines the events in the artist’s life and gives meaning to his destiny.

      Marc Chagall was born into a strict Jewish family for whom the ban on representations of the human figure had the weight of dogma.

      Hommage à Apollinaire

      1911–1912

      Oil on canvas, 109 × 198 cm

      Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam

      If one is unaware of the nature of traditional Jewish education, one can hardly imagine the transgressive force, the fever of being which propelled the young Chagall when he flung himself on the journal Niva (Field) to copy from it a portrait of the composer Rubinstein. This education was based on the historic law of Divine Election and covered the religious side of life only.

      Le Saoul (The Drinker)

      1911–1912

      Oil on canvas, 85 × 115 cm

      Private collection

      The transmission to the very core of the Jewish hearth was essentially effected through oral means. Each prayer, each recitation from the Torah or the Talmud imposed on the believer was in a sing-song voice; reading lessons were held out loud; everyday life was given rhythm by the repetitive times of the ritual practice of songs and on the sabbath day, solemn benedictions. Each Jewish house is a place made holy by the liturgy of the word.