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[Banea 2012]. . , (1890 .), (1927 .), 10/5 (1989 .) . , .

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(Medusa's Ankles Art Work), The Matisse Stories, 1993 . , , , , , XX ., (, , ). , - [ 20 , 1953], , , .

(Gerda Himmelblau) (Peregrine Diss). , - (Peggi Nollett). ( ) , , , . . , .

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: But I had writen some notes on Matisse's distortions of the Female Body with respect especially to the spercificaly Female Organs, the Breasts the Cunt the Labia etc etc and also to his ways of acumulating Flesh on certain Parts of the Body which appeal to Men and tend to imobilise Women such as grotesquely swollen Thighs or protruding Stomachs. I mean to conect this in time to the whole tradition of the depiction of Female Slaves and Odalisques but I have not yet done the research I would need to write on this. Also his Women tend to have no features on their faces, they are Blanks, like Dolls, I find this sinister [Byatt 1993]. , , , . , , , . , , . , . , , , 1960 -1980 .

, , (, ) : So I explained how busy I was with my art-work and how my art-work, which is a series of mixed-media pieces called Erasures and Undistortions was a part of my criticism of Matisse. <...> I tried to explain my project of revising or reviewing or rearranging Matisse. I have a threedimensional piece in wire and plaster-of-paris and plasticine called The Resistance of Madame Matisse which shows her and her daughter being tortured as they were by the Gestapo in the War whilst he sits like a Buddha cutting up pretty paper with scissors. They wouldn't tell him they were being tortured in case it disturbed his work. I felt sick when I found out that. The torturers have got identical scissors [ ]. . . -, 1944 . 10 , . -, , []. , , , , , , . , , , . , , (, ), , ( ), , - , , - .

. -, , : Anyway, I went and looked at her so-called Work. The phraseology is catching. "So-called". A pantechnicon contemporary term of abuse. <...> The work is horrible, Dr Himmelblau. It disgusts. It desecrates. Her studio - in which the poor creature also eats and sleeps - is papered with posters of Matisse's work. La Rêve. Le Nu rose. Le Nu bleu. Grande Robe bleue. La Musique. L'Artiste et son modèle. Zorba sur la terrasse. And they have all been smeared and defaced. With what looks like organic matter - blood, Dr Himmelblau, beef stew or faeces -I incline towards the latter since I cannot imagine good daube finding its way into that miserable tenement. Some of the daubings are deliberate reworkings of bodies or faces - changes of outlines - some are like thrown tomatoes - probably arethrown tomatoes - and eggs, yes -and some are great swastikas of shit. It is appalling. It is pathetic [Byatt 1993]. : , , , , .

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'In recent times,' says Dr Himmelblau, 'art has traditionally had an element of protest.'

'Traditional protest, hmph,' shouts Perry Diss, his neck reddening. 'Nobody minds protest, I've protested in my time, we all have, you aren't the real thing if you don't have a go at being shocking, protest is de rigeur, I know. But what I object to here, is the shoddiness, the laziness. It seems to me - forgive me, Dr Himmelblau - but this - this caca offends something I do hold sacred, a word that would make that little bitch snigger, no doubt, but sacred, yes - it seems to me, that if she could have produced worked copies of those - those masterpieces - those shining - never mind if she could have done some work - understood the blues, and the pinks, and the whites, and the oranges, yes, and the blacks too - and if she could still have brought herself to feel she must - must savage them - then I would have had to feel some respect' [Byatt 1993]. , - caca (), - something I do hold sacred (, ) those masterpieces - those shining ( . , , . , : .... , , , , , - , . , 1908 1911 . []. , , (.. ), , . , , .

, : She is neither physically nor mentally well. She suffers from anorexia. <...> And is in a very depressed state. There have been at least two suicide bids - to my knowledge, : Why Matisse? [ ]. , , , , , , ( ). : Because he paints silent bliss. Luxe, calme et volupté, How can Peggi Nollett bear luxe, calme et volupté? [Byatt 1993]. ( ) (to bear) - .

, . , , : Who is it that understands pleasure, Dr Himmelblau? Old men like me, who can only just remember their bones not hurting, who remember walking up a hill with a spring in their step like the red of the Red Studio. Blind men who have had their sight restored and get giddy with the colours of trees and plastic mugs and the terrible blue of the sky. Pleasure is life, Dr Himmelblau, and most of us don't have it, or not much, or mess it up, and when we see it in those blues, those roses, those oranges, that vermilion, we should fall down and worship - for it is the thing itself. Who knows a good armchair? A man who has bone-cancer, or a man who has been tortured, he can recognise a good armchair [Byatt 1993]. , , . , - , 1908 . , , , . <> - , [] - , , .

, , , . : That is true. You look around you and everything is bleached, and clear, as you say. You are in a white box, a white room, with no doors or windows. You are looking through clear water with no movement - perhaps it is more like being inside ice, inside the white room. There is only one thing possible. It is all perfectly clear and simple and plain. As you say.' They look at each other. The flood of red has subsided under Perry Diss's skin. He is thinking. He is quiet [Byatt 1993]. , - , . , - , , , . . , , , : , , , , : . . . []. , . , . , , , . , , , , . , , , . ? , , : He is hardly treated seriously. Like Gerda Himmelblau he carries inside himself some chamber of ice inside which sits his figure of pain, his version of kind Kay thick-spoken and malevolent in a hospital hospitality-chair[Byatt 1993].

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, , : Oranges are the real fruit of Paradise, I always think. Matisse was the first to understand orange, don't you agree? Orange in light, orange in shade, orange on blue, orange on green, orange in black - 'I went to see him once, you know, after the war when he was living in that apartment in Nice. I was full of hope in those days, I loved him and was enraged by him and meant to outdo him, sometime soon, when I had just learned this and that - which I never did. He was ill then, he had come through this terrible operation, the nuns who looked after him called him 'le ressuscite'. 'The rooms in that apartment were shrouded in darkness. The shutters were closed, the curtains were drawn. I was terribly shocked - I thought he lived in the light, you know, that was the idea I had of him. I blurted it out, the shock, I said, "Oh, how can you bear to shut out the light?" And he said, quite mildly, quite courteously, that there had been some question of him going blind. He thought he had better acquaint himself with the dark. And then he added, " and anyway, you know, black is the colour of light ". Do you know the painting La Porte noire? It has a young woman in an armchair quite at ease in a peignoir striped in lemon and cadmium and... over a white dress with touches of cardinal red - her hair is yellow ochre and scarlet - and at the side is the window and the coloured light and behind - above - is the black door. Almost no one could paint the colour black as he could. Almost no one.' [Byatt 1993].

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: 'He wrote, "I believe in God when I work."' 'I think he also said, " I am God when I work." Perhaps he is - not my God, but where - where I find that. I was brought up in the hope that I would be a priest, you know. Only I could not bear a religion which had a tortured human body hanging from the hands over its altars. No, I would rather have The Dance. ' [Byatt 1993]. , . , , . , , - , . .

Gerda Himmelblau is gathering her things together. He continues, That is why I meant what I said, when I said that young woman's - muck-spreading - offended what I called sacred. What are we to do? I don't want her to - to punish us by self-slaughter - nor do I wish to be seen to condone the violence - the absence of work ' Gerda Himmelblau sees, in her mind's eye, the face of Peggi Nollett, potato-pale, peering out of a white box with cunning, angry eyes in the slit between puffed eyelids. She sees golden oranges, rosy limbs, a voluptuously curved dark blue violin-case, in a black room. One or the other must be betrayed. Whatever she does, the bright forms will go on shining in the dark. She says, 'There is a simple solution. What she wants, what she has always wanted, what the Department has resisted, is a sympathetic supervisor -Tracey Avison, for instance - who shares her way of looking at things - whose beliefs - who cares about political ideologies of that kind -who will' [Byatt 1993].

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, . , , . They leave the restaurant together. Perry Diss thanks Dr Himmelblau for his food and for her company. She is inwardly troubled. Something has happened to her white space, to her inner ice, which she does not quite understand. Perry Diss stops at the glass box containing the lobster, the crabs,

the scallops - these last now decidedly dead, filmed with an iridescent haze of imminent putrescence. The lobster, and the crabs are all still alive, all, more slowly, hissing their difficult air, bubbling, moving feet, feelers, glazing eyes. Inside Gerda Himmelblau's ribs and cranium she experiences, in a way, the pain of alien fish-flesh contracting inside an exo-skeleton. She looks at the lobster and the crabs, taking accurate distant note of the loss of gloss, the attenuation of colour [Byatt 1993]. . , , , , , , , , , , .

 

 





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