Birthday of Spanish Painter Pablo Picasso  

25^th October is the birthday of France born Spanish expatriate painter, sculptor, printmaker, ceramicist, and stage designer, one of the greatest and most-influential artists of the 20th century and the creator of cubism, Pablo Picasso. Pablo Picasso was the son of José Ruiz Blasco, a professor of drawing, and Maria Picasso López. His unusual adeptness for drawing began to manifest itself early, around the age of 10, when he became his father’s pupil. Pablo Ruiz duly entered the Royal Academy of San Fernando later in 1897 but finding the teaching there stupid, he increasingly spent his time recording life around him, in the cafés, on the streets, in the brothels, and in the Prado, where he discovered Spanish painting.

Picasso finally made the decision to move permanently to Paris from Madrid in the spring of 1904, and his work reflects a change of spirit and especially a response to different intellectual and artistic currents. Picasso’s work is often categorized into periods. While the names of many of his later periods are debated, the most commonly accepted periods in his work are the Blue Period (1901–1904), the Rose Period (1904–1906), the African-influenced Period (1907–1909), Analytic Cubism (1909–1912), and Synthetic Cubism (1912–1919), also referred to as the Crystal period. Much of Picasso’s work of the late 1910s and early 1920s is in a neoclassical style, and his work in the mid-1920s often has characteristics of Surrealism. His later work often combines elements of his earlier styles. Some of the famous works of Picasso are – Ma Jolie, La Vie, Girl before a Mirror, Three Musicians and The Old Guitarist

While today, Picasso is hailed as a genius, when the public first began encountering his artwork in the early 1900s, they often didn’t know what to make of it. Several art critics of the era were downright vicious in their reviews of Picasso’s artistic talents, labeling his art as “degenerate,” “odd,” and a product of “diseased nerves.” Infact, somewhere around 1920s, a lot of medical professionals were trying to get American museums to stop featuring “modern” artists because their art was clearly the product of “diseased minds.”

Osho says, “You see paintings by Picasso. Looking at his paintings you will feel — not peace, silence, joy, no. Looking at his paintings you will feel anguish, worry, a trembling, a fear, because those paintings are out of repressed sex. Those paintings cannot be life-affirmative. Looking at Picasso’s paintings you will see the world of a madman. He is insane. He is a genius — that does not matter. You can be a genius and yet you can be mad. In fact it is easier to be mad when you are a genius. Mediocre people cannot afford to be mad, they are so mediocre, so middle-class. Insanity happens only when you are at the extreme. Only from the extreme can you see the abyss which drives you insane, which drives Picasso, Vincent Van Gogh and all the other great painters of this century mad.”

Osho Says……

BELOVED MASTER,

YOU ARE THE GREATEST. YOU ARE LIKE THE MUSIC OF MOZART, VIVALDI AND BACH AND MORE. YOU MAKE ME LAUGH, AND ALWAYS AT A TIME WHEN I NEED IT MOST. YOU TELL US THAT YOU FELT HURT AT THE ENTHUSIASM WITH WHICH PEOPLE DROPPED THE MALA, ETCETERA. THE RAJNEESH TIMES CALLED IT A STUNNING STATEMENT. THAT MADE ME LAUGH EVEN MORE. I HAVE NOT BEEN WITH A ZEN MASTER — AT LEAST IN THIS LIFE. BUT I RECOGNIZE ONE WHEN I SEE ONE, AND YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY THE TOP — HITTING PEOPLE WHEN THEY NEED IT, AND IN THE MANNER MOST APPROPRIATE. OF COURSE, I’M WAITING FOR MY COMEUPPANCE — IT’S BOUND TO HAPPEN. AND THAT TOO MAKES ME LAUGH. IS JOY ALSO AN ABSURDITY?

Everything beautiful is absurd. Joy is one of those experiences which are not utilitarian. Love, peace, enlightenment — all are absurd, absurd in the sense that there is no meaning beyond themselves. Their meaning is intrinsic.

I am reminded of Picasso. He was painting…. For almost two hours a man was standing behind him, watching; he could not figure out what the painting was, what the meaning was. Finally, he could not resist the temptation of asking Picasso. Picasso looked at him and said, “This is something! I was really going to ask you, because you have been watching for two hours: perhaps you may have found the meaning. I was so much engaged in painting, so much into it — I was not there, only painting was happening. So I was hoping that perhaps you might be able to say to me what is the meaning of it all. As far as I am concerned, just painting it has been such a joyous experience — now no other reward is needed.”

And one thing more he said. “You ask me what is the meaning of this painting, but you never ask these flowers what is their meaning. You never ask the sun, you never ask the moon, you never ask the whole sky full of stars what is the meaning. Why do you torture a poor painter? If the whole existence can remain without explaining what its meaning is, can’t my small painting also remain without meaning? One thing I can say, it is tremendously beautiful.”

The man said, “That’s right, it is attractive, it is beautiful; but a thing without meaning is absurd.”

Picasso said, “Exactly. It is not a commodity. In the marketplace everything has a meaning. It is a commodity, it is for some utilitarian purpose. But life is not just the marketplace, and it is good that it is not so. In life there are a few things which are utterly meaningless, yet absolutely fulfilling. This painting is absurd. It is so absurd that I cannot figure out how I am going to hang it in my house — which way is going to be up, which way is going to be down. I cannot figure it out. If you can help — because you have been observing for two hours… how should I hang it?”

The man said, “You are mad! You are painting it, and you don’t know how to hang it?”

Picasso said, “I am mad, you are not — that’s why I am asking you.”

The man tried in all possible ways — there are only four possible ways to hang it. It was beautiful each way. The man said to Picasso, “You and your painting will drive me crazy! It was stupid of me to stand here and waste time. And this is as crazy as you are, because you can hang it any way and it looks right.”

Picasso said, “That’s the beauty of it!”

But

beauty is absurd. Joy is absurd. Laughter is absurd. Collect as many absurdities in your life as possible. People collect strange things — postal stamps…. Collect absurdities; and the more absurdities you have, the richer you are. The world may think you are a little off the track, but that is their problem; you are enjoying it.

In my postgraduate studies in the university, I used to go on a small street which ended, just after two miles, in front of a deep valley; that was the dead end. Only a few professors who loved silence had their bungalows on that street; there was no traffic, because in those two miles what traffic can exist?

I used to go there only when it would rain — I loved to go into the rain. The last house on the street belonged to the head of the department of physics — one of the very well-known scientists. He had been in America before I came to the university, teaching physics.

His family, it became a routine thing — whenever it would rain I would appear drenched, without any umbrella, without any raincoat, enjoying the natural shower…. The whole family would come onto their veranda — the wife, the children — and they would all watch, thinking that I must be mad.

The professor was at the university. He heard one of my talks and he was very interested. We became friends — he was an old man — and one day he said, “Why don’t you come for supper today? It happens to be my birthday.”

I said, “I will come, certainly.”

He had talked to his family about me many times, and the family was very much excited: “Who is the guest?” They were all waiting outside in the garden when I went in, and they all started laughing, looking at me. The professor could not understand what the matter was, because I also started laughing. The professor said, “I don’t understand, but it seems you understand why they are laughing, and they understand you. And I was thinking I am going to introduce you to my family!”

I said, “I know your family, they know me. We are well acquainted, although we have never spoken. I come here whenever it rains — this street is so silent. Your house is the last house before the road ends, and your family rushes out to see me. I know they think I am crazy, but they don’t know that I think they are crazy! — because what is the point of rushing out again and again to see a crazy man? They wait for me. Whenever it rains, they stop all other work; they are simply waiting for me! Sometimes I have to come just for them. I may have some other work, but I think of these poor fellows — that they will be waiting, and they will be unnecessarily frustrated if I don’t come. They think I am mad, I think they are mad.”

The professor said, “This is strange! You never told me about it.”

I said, “You would not have understood the relationship that was growing between me and your family. We have become very close, very intimate — without speaking a single word.”

The professor said to me, “Next time it rains, I am going to be with you if it is so joyful. I have never done anything like that.”

The next time he joined me, and he was really ecstatic. Just ordinary rain on an empty street — and we both laughed. He said, “But I have missed my whole life! And how am I going to convince my family now? — they are watching both of us.”

And now I was also acquainted, so we both went into the house. The wife said, “This is the strangest thing that I have seen in my husband, that he should do such a thing.”

But the husband said, “You can think me crazy, there is no harm in it. But at least once, you should join us. Now we both are going every time the rain comes; you should, at least once, join us.”

She said, “But what is the meaning of it?”

The professor said, “That is the difficulty. There is no meaning in it, but there is great joy.”

In small things you can find joy. But if you are looking for meaning, then even in the greatest experiences you will not find meaning. Meaning is a mind interpretation. And all that is beautiful, loving, ecstatic, is something of the heart. And the head can never understand the heart: there is no communication line between the two. It is the head that asks the meaning. It is the heart that asks for joyful experiences, for ecstatic experiences, but it never asks about their meaning. Put your head aside and try to look at life from the heart. You will find it so glorious, so infinitely luminous that you will not be able to conceive how you have been missing, how much you have been missing.

And that will explain why you are miserable, why you are in anxiety, why you are always sad. It is as if somebody is trying to listen to music through the eyes — he will not hear anything. He will say, “I want to see the music.” But you cannot see the music, you can only hear it. It is better if you close your eyes and open your ears. Meaning is of the head, and if you go on searching through the head you will come to the same conclusions as Jean-Paul Sartre and other existentialist philosophers. They say, “Life is meaningless. The only thing worth doing is committing suicide, because why go on living a meaningless life?”

Life is certainly meaningless, but tremendously joyful, hilarious… a dance, a song, a beauty. But you will have to change your gears from the head to the heart.

Look at small children — how excited they are in your bored world! You are sitting there completely bored, and your child is so excited. And you think you are right and the child is a fool. He does not know anything about life, that’s why he is so excited about any absurd thing — butterflies, flowers, colored stones, seashells, anything! And you can’t see any meaning in them. But the child is right, you are wrong.

The criterion is boredom: who is bored? Whoever is bored is wrong. Whoever is dancing, singing, having a good belly laughter is right! But one has to change. It is not a very big change — your heart and your head are not very far away, maybe a few inches. And the heart is closer to you, closer to your being; the head is the farthest from your being. But the whole programming going on is to avoid the heart and join your being directly with the head. That’s what your schools, colleges, universities, are doing.

The heart has no function in your education — naturally, your life is a misery. A true education will be basically the education of the heart. It will make you more innocent, more childlike, more excited and ecstatic about small things. Then each moment becomes luminous.

And what are you going to do with meaning? Even if there is meaning in something, what are you going to do with meaning? The real thing is experiencing. So it is perfectly good to accept joy, laughter, without any reason — the way you accept your health. Are you ever worried when you are healthy, wondering: Why am I healthy? Do you go to the doctor, tremendously concerned and worried, and say, “Doctor, for seven days I have been healthy; something seems to be wrong”? No, health is natural; it need not be diagnosed, analyzed, it has to be lived. But when you are sick, you go to the doctor. You want to know the cause of it, because sickness is not natural. When somebody is sad, he is sick; he needs to find out why he is sick, why he is sad. But when somebody is laughing, just dancing, it is natural. In a healthy society it should be accepted without any questions. But because the whole society is sick, and suddenly one person starts laughing, naturally the whole society points to the person, that he is going crackers. There is no reason why he is laughing. Nobody has told a joke, nobody has slipped on a banana peel. Without any reason, he goes on laughing. But if somebody is sad, nobody says, “Without any reason this man is sad — this cannot be accepted.” This is a strange state.

We have to change it completely.

We have to make laughter, rejoicing, dancing, singing, part of a healthy being — just overflowing well-being. And anybody who is miserable, sad, long faced, has to be taken to the psychologist. Something is wrong with the man. He is not overflowing with energy; his energy has shrunk.

Source:

This is an excerpt from the transcript of a public discourse by Osho in Buddha Hall, Shree Rajneesh Ashram, Pune. 

Discourse Series: From Bondage to Freedom

Chapter #42

Chapter title: Everything beautiful is absurd

26 October 1985 am in Rajneeshmandir

References:

Osho has spoken extensively on ‘art, poetry, music, dance, painting’ and painters & poets like Picasso, Michael Angelo, Salvador Dali, Van Gogh, Byron, Bhavabhuti, Coleridge, Dinkar, D.H. Lawrence, Kalidas, Kahlil Gibran, Keats, Omar Khayyam, Milton, Yeats, Shelley, Tagore and many more in the course of His talks. More on this subject can be referred to in the following books/discourse titles:

1. Ah This
2. Be Still and Know
3. Beyond Psychology
4. Come Follow to You Vol.1-4
5. The Guest
6. Going All the Way
7. This Is It
8. The Book of Wisdom
9. The Path of the Mystic
10. A Sudden Clash of Thunder
11. Beyond Enlightenment
12. From the False to the Truth
13. From Ignorance to Innocence