I went to see the new 'blockbuster' exhibition at the NGV yesterday, Picasso: Love and War 1935-1945, which pairs the work of Picasso and his then-lover, the surrealist photographer Dora Maar. It's bloody fabulous.
If you plan to go see it take at least three hours to check it out properly. And in one series of photos, where horny-old-goat Pablo is showing off his camel toe and posing with a horse's skull on the beach, you can see that he's wearing nailpolish.
Fucking bohemian.
Then I went home, had a few glasses of wine, and got maudlin over the sorry state of my love life.
At least I didn't cry myself to sleep though.
Not this time.
2 comments:
You know what's worse? Waking up crying.
I loved the exhibition too, but think it should be called Dora Maar and Picasso. It's her collection and her bloody photographs (which look so much better too in neg form, a bit of curator manipulation, to say the least...).
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