LOOKING AT PICASSO WITH MY BROTHERS
I paint what I think, not what I see—Pablo Picasso
This afternoon I cajoled my two youngest brothers into helping me with my course project. I showed them Picasso's painting and asked them, 'What do you see?'
They quickly identified the stringed instrument {pointing out the characteristic curves, and the straight lines for strings}, but argued over whether it was a violin or cello. {Pippin identified one element of the painting as the end pin of a cello.} I had been waiting for them to notice the grapes, but decided I needed to interrupt the argument at this point by introducing the title: Violin and Grapes.
'Oh, yes, I was going to mention those grapes,' Sebastien piped up, and said he thought the grapes looked delicious. {Pippin remained skeptical about the violin.}
They were sure there were other objects hidden in the painting and wanted to know why Picasso had left them out of the title. I redirected them after I felt they had spent enough time discussing whether there was really a gate in the background, or a cash register {!} in the foreground. I reminded them that the painting was called Violin and Grapes, and tried to take advantage of their current train of thought to point out that this was certainly an unusual, maybe even confusing, way to portray a violin. It wasn't what we see when we look at an actual violin!
Pippin recognized that the violin was in pieces and they were mixed up. Sebastien noticed that some of the pieces weren't even facing the right direction, but were turned on their side.
I shared a quote by Picasso: 'I paint what I think, not what I see.' Pippin looked again at the painting and concluded that Picasso had a very bad memory! I explained that when we look at something with our eyes, we can only see one side of it at a time.
'This is more than one side,' Sebastien reminded us.
I tried to prompt them into recognizing that, in our minds, we can turn an object over at any angle, and think of multiple angles or different elements at the same time. They agreed, but I am not sure how clearly the idea came across to Picasso's painting. So we moved on.
'Why couldn't Picasso just show a violin the way it is?' Sebastien wanted to know.
'That's a good question,' I responded, happy to see the conversation moving in this direction. {I confess my impatience!} 'Why do you think Picasso would choose to paint the violin this way?'
He thought just a moment before offering, 'To make people look at it.'
'Why would people look at it?'
'Because it looks different and they would try to figure it out.'
But Pippin said the painting was ugly and 'made no sense.' {He's a logical and meticulous boy who likes things to be 'real.'}
The two of them went back and forth on whether the painting 'made sense.' I don't remember which of them finally pointed out that Picasso could have painted four angles of the violin on separate canvases, and it may have been less confusing if someone was trying to see what a violin actually looks like.
'Do you think that was what this painting was for?' I prompted. 'To show people what a violin looks like?'
'N-o-o-' answered Sebastien. 'I don't think Picasso wanted to paint what everyone already knows. He wanted them to see other things about it.' {There are shades of Gombrich in that boy!}
I asked what other familiar objects we could look at from different sides. They mentioned the family dog and cat first; and then the youngest exclaimed, 'People!' They thought it would be very interesting to see people from the inside.
'That would be interesting,' I agreed. 'Some of the most important things about people are things you can't see by looking at them.' They didn't respond the way I'd hoped {they thought I was talking about the heart, which is definitely an important part you can't see!}, and I felt I had become a bit heavy-handed in my direction. They were still thinking about Picasso's unusual technique, so we returned to concrete objects.
We talked about the computer in front of us; we were all sitting at different angles to it. Sebastien remarked that although I could see 'most' of the computer {I was sitting in front of it}, I could not see the slot for the CD. He could see the slot for the CD, but he could not see the audio jacks on the other side, where his brother was sitting. It was the same computer, but we were seeing different things.
I pointed out that Picasso was showing us all the different things about a violin, but at the same time. 'He must have had an interesting imagination,' Pippin remarked.
I asked them to look at the painting again to see whether they could find anything else interesting. Despite what I thought to be a monochromatic effect, they both identified the painting as 'colorful,' with various shades of brown, blue and green. Pippin thought Picasso did a 'great job' on the realistic wood texture in parts of the painting. Sebastien remarked on the 'blocky' effect of the composition. After studying it longer, Sebastien volunteered that the 'cash register' was actually the side of the violin at an unusual angle.
I asked them if there was anything else they wanted to say, and they immediately said no and exhaled deeply. But they looked at the painting a little longer before going back to their play and studies.
I enjoyed the experience of using the inquiry approach with my brothers, and was challenged to be flexible in my approach. There were a few thoughts I had considered that didn't surface in our discussion; I'd like to improve my ability to share personal thoughts {always numerous!} without overwhelming the students' own response to the actual artwork. I think this was more difficult with younger students, because my nearer siblings would have felt able to challenge or differ from my perceptions, whereas my youngest brothers would probably accept whatever I say as the correct answer.
This post is an edited version of one of my assignments for the course ‘Art and Inquiry: Museum Teaching Strategies for Your Classroom.’ The objective of this assignment was to practice the inquiry method of using open-ended questions to draw out observations in a guided discussion about the artwork.
• detail from Violin and Grapes by Pablo Picasso •
April 1, 2014