Come Away, O Beauty

Le travail du peintre
(The Work of the Painter)
 Paul Éluard (1895-1952)
Salvador Dali, Portrait of Paul Éluard, 1929
Oil on canvas, Gala-Salvador Dali Foundation, Figueras, Spain
The Paris surrealists, 1933: Tristan Tzara, Paul Éluard, André Breton, Hans
Arp, Salvador Dalí, Yves Tanguy, Max Ernst, René Crevel and Man Ray
Salvator Dalí, Gala, Paul Éluard and “Nusch” (Maria Benz)
at Port Lligat, 1931
 Pablo Picasso (1881-1973)
Yousuf Karsh, Pablo Picasso, 1954
Gelatin silver print, 19 3/4 x 15 3/4 in. Minneapolis Art Institute
 Picasso, Girl with Mandolin, 1910
Oil on canvas, 39.5" x 29” MOMA
Picasso, Man with a Pipe, 1911
Oil on canvas, 35.75" x 27.625” Kimbell Art Museum
 Picasso, Still Life with Chair-Caning, [May] 1912
Oil and oilcloth on canvas, with rope frame, 10 5/8 x 13 3/4 in.
Musee Picasso, Paris
 Picasso, Violin, 1913
Bern, Switzerland: Private Collection
 Marc Chagall
(1887-1985)
Self-Portrait with Seven
Fingers, c. 1913-1914
Oil on canvas
50 3/8 x 42 1/8 in.
Stedelijk Museum,
Amsterdam
 Chagall, The Poet with the Birds, 1911
Oil on canvas, 28 3/4 x 39 1/4 in. Minneapolis Institute of Arts
 Chagall. The Promenade, 1918
Oil on canvas, 169.6 x 163.4 cm, Russian Museum, St. Petersburg
 Chagall,
Green Violinist (Violiniste),
1923–1924
Oil on canvas, 78 x 42 3/4 in.
Guggenheim Museum
George Braque (1882-1963)
…in his Paris studio, c. 1932
 Braque,
Violin and Palette, 1909-10
Oil on canvas, 36 1/8" X 16 7/8"
Guggenheim, New York
 Braque, Still Life with Tenora (Clarinet), 1913
Cut-and-pasted paper collage, charcoal, chalk, and pencil on gessoed canvas,
37 1/2" x 47 3/8” MOMA
 Juan Gris (1887-1927)
Amedeo Modigliani, Portrait of Juan Gris, 1915
Oil on canvas, Metropolitan Museum of Art
 Gris, Water-bottle, Bottle, and Fruit-dish, 1915
Oil on canvas, 32 x 25 5/8 in. Private collection, New York
 Gris, Guitar and Newspaper, 1925
Oil on canvas, 65 x 81 cm, Museo Reina Sofia, Madrid
Paul Klee (1879-1940)
…in his studio
 Klee, Hammamet with Its Mosque, 1914
Watercolor and pencil on paper; 8 1/8 x 7 5/8 in. Metropolitan Museum
The Bavarian Don Giovanni, 1919
Watercolor and ink on wove paper, 8 7/8 x 8 3/8 in. Guggenheim Museum
 Klee, The End of the Last Act of a Drama, 1920
Transfer drawing with watercolor and ink on paper on board, 9 1/2 x 13 1/8,“
MOMA
 Joan Miró (1893-1983)
Man Ray, Portrait of Joan Miro, 1930
Photograph, Reina Sofia Museum, Madrid
 Miró, The Farm, 1921/22
Oil on canvas, 132 x 147 cm. National Gallery of Art
 Miró, Harlequin's Carnival, 1924-25
Oil on canvas, 66 x 93 cm. Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo
 Miró, The Birth of the World, 1925
Oil on canvas, 251 x 200 cm. MOMA
 Jacques Villon (Gaston Duchamp, 1875-1963)
Marcel Duchamp, Jacques Villon, Raymond Duchamp-Villon, 1912
Jacques Villon, Portrait de Mlle. Y.D., 1913
LA County Museum
Girl at the Piano. c. 1912–14
Oil on canvas, oval, 51 x 37 7/8" MOMA
 Le travail du peintre
(The Work of the Painter)

Music: Francis Poulenc (1899-1963)

Poems: Paul Eluard (1895-1952)
Pablo Picasso
(1881-1973)
Surround this lemon with formless egg-white
 Coat this egg-white
with a supple and delicate blue
Though the straight black line stems from
you
Dawn lies behind your picture
And innumerable walls crumble
Behind your picture and you staring
Like a blind man like a madman
You raise up a tall sword in the void
A hand why not a mouth unadorned like a quill
Why not a smile and why not some tears
At the very edge of the canvas
where tiny nails are fixed
This is the day of others leave their good
fortune to the shadows
And with a single movement
of the eyelids renounce
Marc Chagall
(1887-1985)
Ass or cow cock or horse
Even a violin’s skin
Singing man single bird
Agile dancer with his wife
Couple steeped in their springtime
The gold of the grass the lead of the sky
Divided by the blue flames
Of health of dew
The blood grows iridescent the heart rings
A couple the first reflection
And in a cavern of snow
The luxuriant vine traces
A face with moon-like lips
Which has never slept at night
George Braque
(1882-1963)
A bird flies off
It discards the clouds like a useless veil,
It has never feared the light,
Enclosed in its flight
It has never had a shadow.
 Sun-split husks
of harvest grains.
All the forest leaves say
yes,
Yes is all they know
how to say,
Every question,
every answer
 And the dew flows
in the depth of this yes.
A man with carefree eyes describes
the heaven of love
He gathers together its wonders
Like leaves in a wood,
Like birds in their wings
And men in sleep
 Juan Gris
(1887-1927)
Give thanks by day beware by night
One half of the world sweetness
The other showed blind harshness
In the veins a relentless present could be read
In the beauties of the contours limited space
Cemented together all familiar objects
Table guitar and empty glass
On an acre of full earth
Of a white canvas of night air
Table had to support itself
Lamp remain a pip of the shadow
Newspaper shed a half of itself
Twice the day the night
Of two objects one double object
A single whole for evermore
 Paul Klee
(1879-1940)
On the fatal slope, the traveller profits
 From the day’s favor,
frost-glazed and pebbleless
And eyes blue with love,
he discovers his season
Which wears on each finger
great stars as rings
The sea has left its ear-shells on the shore
 And the hollowed sand
the site of a noble crime.
Executioners agonize more than victims
Knives are omens and billets tears.
 Joan Miró
(1893-1983)
Sun of prey prisoner of my head
Remove the hill, remove the forest
The sky is lovelier than ever.
The grapes’ dragonflies
Give it precise forms
That I with one gesture dispel.
Clouds of primeval day,
Indifferent clouds sanctioned by nothing,
Their seeds burn
In the straw fires of my glances.
At the last, to cloak itself with dawn
The sky must be as pure as night.
Jacques Villon
(1875-1963)
 Irremediable life
Life to be cherished always
Despite scourges
And base morals
 Despite false stars
And encroaching ashes
Despite creaking fevers
Belly-high crimes
Desiccated breasts foolish faces
Despite mortal suns
Despite dead gods
Despite the lies
Dawn horizon water
Bird man love
Man light-hearted and good
sweetening the earth
 Clearing the woods
illuminating the stone
 And the nocturnal rose
And the blood if the crowd.
A Question of Light
Rene Magritte, The Menanced Assassin, 1927
Oil on Canvas, 150.4 x 195.2 cm, MoMA
Rene Magritte, La Trahison des Images (The Treachery or Betrayal of Images)
or Ceci n'est pas une pipe, 1948
Private Collection
Rene Magritte, La condition humaine, (The Human Condition), 1933
National Gallery, Washington
 René Magritte, The Light of Coincidences, 1933
Oil on canvas, 23 5/8 x 28 3/4 in. Dallas Museum of Art
Eccentric flint depicting a crocodile canoe with passengers
Mayan, A.D. 600-900
Flint, 9 3/4 x 16 3/16 x 11/16 in., Dallas Museum of Art
Gustave Caillebotte, Young Man at the Window, 1875
Oil on canvas, Private Collection
 Gustave Caillebotte, A Paris Street, Rain, 1877
Oil on canvas, 212.2 x 276.2 cm, Art Institute of Chicago
Gustave Caillebotte, Yellow Roses in a Vase, 1882
Oil on canvas, 21 x 18 ¼ in. Dallas Museum of Art
 Piet Mondrian, Self-Portrait, 1918
Oil on canvas, Gemeentemuseum, the Hague, Netherlands
 Piet Mondrian, Gray Tree, 1911
Oil on canvas, 30 7/8 x 42 3/8 in., Gemeentemuseum, The Hague
 Piet Mondrian,
Lozenge Composition with Yellow, Black, Blue, Red, and Gray, 1921
Oil on canvas, 23 5/8 x 23 5/8 in. The Art Institute of Chicago
 Piet Mondrian, Place de la Concorde, 1938-43
Oil on canvas, 37 x 37 3/16 in. Dallas Museum of Art
 Rufino Tamayo, Women of Tehuantepec, 1939
Oil on canvas. 33 7/8 x 57 1/8 in. Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo
Rufino Tamayo at work on El
Hombre, early 1950s

Views of 2013 rehanging of El

Hombre at the Dallas Museum
 Rufino Tamayo,
El Hombre, 1953
Vinyl with pigment on
panel, 216 x 126 in.
Dallas Museum
Gerald and Sara Murphy on La Garoupe beach, Antibes, summer 1926
Photograph, Gerald and Sara Murphy Papers, Yale University
 Gerald Murphy’s Boatdeck, now lost,
at the Salon des Indépendants in Paris in 1924
 Gerald Murphy, Watch, 1925
Oil on canvas, 78 1/2 x 78 7/8 in. Dallas Museum
 A Question of Light

Music: Jake Heggie (b. 1961)

Lyrics: Gene Sheer (b. 1958)
The Light of Coincidences
(René Magritte)
Who are you?
Will you come out of the shadows?
Not to kiss, but to be kissed.
Not to choose, but to be chosen.
To be born in a baptism of light.
It is midnight.
Clouds shroud the moon and stars.
All is drenched in black velvet.
A candle, placed on a table,
with indiscriminate ecstasy,
touches everything it can find
with a question of light:
Who are you?
Eccentric Flint
 Carve away–
what does not bring me closer to the sky.
 All that slows–
the current racing towards what cannot die.
The fertile dust of starlight
never quite dissolved.
The bloom of endless echo of a chord
yet unresolved.
 Over and under,
We are more than the things we pray.
 Over and under,
through the waves of the Milky Way.
Oh! A grammatical constellation.
A syntactical splash of sparks.
As the stars undulate the heavens
Twisting into question marks.
And you wonder where you’re going.
Where did it all begin?
Does the voyage to each destination
Take me back to a place I’ve already been?
 Over and under,
we are more than the things we pray.
 Over and under,
through the waves of the Milky Way!
Yellow Roses in a Vase
(Gustave Caillebotte)
Five days after father died
While the flowers that filled the house
were being thrown away
 He sat alone and stared
At the one remaining bouquet.
Once yellow blooms, with melancholic grace
Were draining, bleeding towards the color of
bone, clay and cloud.
And suddenly, he spoke his secret out loud.
“In the war, thirty years ago,
 I was so scared
When I raised my arms to surrender
There were two hundred of us.
I was one of only fourteen who survived.”
He spoke of his friends, and before he
walked away, said:
“I remember all them… all of them.”
On the cold, marble table, several more
petals had fallen from the stem.
Place de la Concorde
(Piet Mondrian)
 It’s a map, a grid,
where nothing’s been plotted.
 A vigorous pulse
where everything’s knotted!
A woven dynamic, a mysterious chord,
An echo, a whisper at the
Place de la Concorde.
Come away, Oh Beauty, Come away.
Something’s ‘bout happen on the
Champs-Elysées!
No story, no glory, no fable to share
Pull every thread till there’s nothing to wear!
In a pocket, in a corner, in the wink of an eye
Something is hidden, you cannot deny.
 In between all the lines,
where the rainbow is stored,
A mem’ry, a heartbeat at the
Place de la Concorde!
Come away, Oh Beauty, Come away.
Something’s ’bout to happen On the
Champs-Elyées!
 El Hombre
(Rufino Tamayo)
¿Y que voy a besar?
¿Y que voy a tocar?
¿ Y cuando cruzarà
mi espíritu?
There are no borders
in the sky.

No one owns
the stars above.

No walls divide us
from each other

Or tell us what
deserves our love.
Will you reach beyond
the weight of history?

Beyond the prison of

low esteem,

Where the journey

starts in clay and
shadows.

But ends wherever you

choose to dream?
¿Y que voy a besar?
¿Y que voy a tocar?
¿ Y cuando cruzarà
mi espíritu?
 Watch
(Gerald Murphy)
One more story?
One more song? I don’t think so.
Do you know what time it is?
Look at my watch.
What do you see?
 The big hand is here
And the little hand is there,
And that means it’s somebody’s bedtime!
What?
Oh, You’re right!
It stopped.
No. It’s still your bedtime.
Time never really stops.
Between the hours run the minutes.
 Look!
The second hand is chasing them away.
Between the seconds is infinity:
Everything you didn’t get to do today.
Time doesn’t stop If I don’t’ wind my watch.
Nobody knows where it comes from
Or why it floats away.
There go the hours and the minutes.
Oh! They scatter no matter what we do
But, according to my watch,
when you wake up
You’ll have all the time in the world waiting,
waiting for you.
 Edward Burne-Jones (1833-98)
G. F. Watts, Portrait of Edward Burne-Jones, 1870
Birmingham Museums and Art Gallery
Burne-Jones, Le Chant d'Amour (Song of Love), 1868 - 1877
Oil on canvas, Metropolitan Museum
 Burne-Jones, Laus Veneris, 1869
Oil with gold paint on canvas, 48 x 72 in
Laing Art Gallery, Newcastle upon Tyne
 Burne-Jones, Music, 1876
Oil on canvas, 27" x 17¾“, Collection of Andrew Lloyd-Webber
 Burne-Jones,
The Golden Stairs, 1880
Oil on canvas, 2692 x 1168 mm,
Tate Gallery
 Die schöne Magelone

Music: Johannes Brahms(1833-97)

Texts: Ludwig von Tieck (1773-1853)
Sind es Schmerzen,
sind es Freuden
 Edward Burne-Jones, Green Summer, 1868
Oil on canvas, 64.7 x 106.1 cm, Private Collection
Are they sorrows or are they joys
Which tug at my breast?
All the old desires leave;
A thousand new flowers bloom.
Through the dusk of tears
I see suns standing in the distance
What languishing, what longing!
Do I dare? Shall I move closer?
Ah, and when my tears are falling,
It is dark around me;
Yet if my desires do not return,
The future is empty of hope.
So beat then, my ambitious heart,
So flow down then, my tears,
Ah, joy is only a deeper pain,
Life is a dark grave,
 Without guilt,
Should I then suffer?
 How is it that in my dreams
All my thoughts tremble up and down?
 Without guilt,
Should I then suffer?
 How is it that in my dreams
All my thoughts tremble up and down?
I scarcely know myself any more.
 O, hear me, kindly stars,
O hear me, green meadow,
And you, my love, hear my holy oath:
If I remain far from her,
I will die gladly.
 Ah, only in the light of her gaze
Dwell life and hope and happiness!
If I remain far from her,
I will die gladly.
 Ah, only in the light of her gaze
Dwell life and hope and happiness!
So willst du des Armen
Burne-Jones, Frieze of Eight Women Gathering Apples, 1876
Oil paint on wood, 737 x 1829 mm, Tate Gallery
 Will you then, on a poor man
graciously take pity? So it is no dream?
How the spring does trickle,
How the waves do ring,
How the trees do rustle!
 Deep I lay,
within fearsome walls imprisoned,
Now daylight greets me!
How the sunbeams do play!
They dazzle and paint
My timid face.
Should I believe it?
Will no one rob me
Of the delicious delusion?
 Yet dreams float away
And only love distinguishes life;
I welcome my fate!
How free and cheerful! There's no more hurry;
Put away your pilgrim's staff!
You have won, you have discovered it -
The most blissful place!
 Wie soll ich die Freude,
die Wonne denn tragen?
 Burne-Jones, The Mill, 1882
Oil on canvas, 91 x 197 cm, Victoria and Albert Museum
 How can I endure the joy,
How can I then endure the bliss?
 That under all the throbbing
Of my heart, my soul will not part from me?
And if now the hours of love have vanished,
Why the urge in dreary desolation,
to drag further a joyless life,
When by the shore the flowers will not bloom?
Which tarrying feet does Time pass,
Step by deliberate step!
 And if I must part,
how feather-light does its step then fly!
Throb, o yearning power,
In my deep, true breast!
Like echoes of a lute, fading away,
Do the finest joys of life flee.
 Ah, how soon
till I am hardly aware of bliss.
Rush, rush ever forth,
Deep stream of time,
Soon you will wander off, today or tomorrow,
And go from place to place;
Since you have taken me this far,
Now merrilly, now quietly;
I will now venture further,
However it may turn out.
I must not think myself wretched,
Since my darling beckons;
Love will not let me languish
Until this life has sunk!
No, the stream will ever broaden,
Heaven will remain ever clear,
Joyously I row farther;
I'll bring love and life together to the grave.
No, the stream will ever broaden,
Heaven will remain ever clear,
Joyously I row farther;
I'll bring love and life together to the grave.
Wir müssen uns trennen
 Burne-Jones, The Lament, 1865
Oil on canvas, William Morris Gallery
We must part, beloved lute,
 It is time to chase
after a far-off, longed-for goal.
I am off to battle,
Off to plunder;
And when I have my loot,
then I shall fly home.
In the red gleam I fly with her,
and my lance protects us,
and my steel armor here.
 Come, dear weapons,
In jest so often donned:
Defend now my happiness on this new road!
I throw myself into the waves,
I greet the glorious course;
Many have been dragged under,
But the brave swimmer remains on top.
Ha! What joy it is to spill noble blood!
To protect my happiness, My precious property!
 Not to suffer scorn,
Who lacks courage for that?
 Not to suffer scorn,
Who lacks courage for that?
Let fall your reins,
Happy Night!
Spread your wings;
Over the far-off hills,
Upon us morning already smile!
Muß es eine Trennung geben
 Burne-Jones, Hope, 1896
Oil on canvas, 70 1/2 x 25 in.
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston
 Must there be a parting
that will cause true hearts
to break?
No, that I do not call living:
Dying is not so bitter.
When I hear a shepherd's flute,
Inside I grieve;
 When I gaze at a sunset,
I think passionately of you.
Is there then no true love?
Must there be pain and
parting?
If I'd remained unloved
I would then have at least a
glimmer of hope.
But so I must now lament:
Where is Hope,
but in the grave?
 Far away
must I bear my misery,
 In secrecy,
my heart breaks.
Wie froh und frisch
 Burne-Jones,
Musical Angel, 1878-80
Gouache on paper, 5’4 ¼” x 22 ¾”
Nelson-Atkins Museum
How happy and fresh
my thoughts soar,
 Behind me
I leave all my fears,
My heart strives
with new cheer,
And new yearnings awaken.
The stars are mirrored
in the sea,
And golden gleams the tide.
I ran dizzily hither and thither,
And was neither bad nor good.
 Yet weighed down
Are doubts and
indecisive thoughts;
 O carry me,
you rocking waves,
To my homeland,
long yearned-for.
 In the dear,
darkening distance,
There call the songs of
home,
From every star
She gazes down
with gentle eyes.
 Smooth yourself,
O trusty wave,
Lead me on the long road
To that well-beloved threshhold,
To my Happiness at long last!
Come Away, O Beauty