Portrait of the artist at the palette FWN 499 1886-7 92 x 73
Buhrle collection, Zurich
“Mon cher Emile
I’ve just received L’Oeuvre, which you were kind enough to send me. I thank the author of the Rougon-Macquart for this kind token of remembrance, and ask him to allow me to wish him well, thinking of years gone by.
Ever yours
With the feeling of time passing.”
So wrote Cezanne to Zola on 4th April 1886, making his mark with his usual signature, Paul Cezanne; though they would live for another twenty years, this short letter thanking Zola for sending Cezanne a copy of his latest novel would be the last correspondence between these close friends.
It seems to me that this is the portrait Cezanne paints where he’s looking in the mirror, and seeing not so much of himself, but of Zola.
There’s muted colours and gentle pinks;
no pretensions nor hidden dimensions;
no defences nor building fences;
no recriminations or blame cast;
no lamentations or feeling downcast;
just simple and straightforward, honest and open –
an elegant, fine and tender work of art,
for a friendship now apart.
Zola remained where he had worked hard to get – a radical writer, challenging the establishment; well-known but not well-loved; read widely, with widespread dissent. Zola would have one last public dissent in ten years’ time, “J’Accuse” the government itself – the grand finale of what he had done all his life.
Cezanne had not got where he had worked hard to try and get. He knew that he had not yet realised his goal, but he also knew that there was more. Zola did not see that there was more; Zola believed Cezanne had not made his mark, and that any work done so far, had sadly missed the mark.
They never said as much; they didn’t have to - they knew each other too well.
It was not so much that they disagreed, let alone that they argued; but rather that Zola became content with a different set of values in which he found his fulfilment; where-as Cezanne wanted another set of values, beyond, not yet realised; indeed, not yet available in the unfolding of the process of evolution. Zola could not see beyond the horizon of the life he had achieved, and thus, could no longer see what Cezanne was reaching for.
And so they parted: Zola, yes, sad, but confident and content; Cezanne sad too, but strong and still searching. I believe Cezanne left his mark for Zola in this work of art, kind and gentle, resigned and a little sad, his token of remembrance of years gone by.
Living sometimes seems like a quantum foam
full of gaps in relationships with good friends well known
solid and firm, but bendy and rolling
sometimes strong, other times weak
binding energy
virtual particles
such charm
three quarks for Muster Mark
sure he has not got much of a bark
and sure any he has it’s beside the mark
deep peace of the running wave to you
deep peace of the quiet earth to you
deep peace of the flowing air to you
deep peace of the shining stars to you
Oh, the wild rose blossoms
on the little green place.
Mike Bold
for James Joyce, RIP 1941 Zurich
When you part from your friend, you grieve not:
for that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.
and let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
Kahlil Gibran