The books in this wonderfully diverse series cover topics such as archaeology, art, culture, history, literature, science, and religion in a dynamic and informative way. The texts are bolstered by rigorous historical information and accompanied by vibrant photographs and boxes that summarize key points. All of the volumes in this collection are a thorough introduction to the subject being discussed. An ideal introduction to the joyful visual world of Joan Miró, this book offers a biographical overview of one of the 20th century’s greatest and most beloved artists, one whose pictorial language was appropriated by a gamut of modernist causes and avant-gardists. With more than 100 full-color reproductions, this book surveys not only the paintings for which Miró is most famed, but also his equally innovative experiments in other realms, such as ceramics, printmaking, sculpture, and stage design. Miró's contagious sense of play and pleasure is perfectly represented in this introductory biography.
Although Joan Miró’s name is hardly less known than that of DalÃ’s or even Picasso’s, his art seems strikingly less popular. I have been told by several people that they cannot appreciate it. And, indeed, I was often left cold by the works I had seen in the Reina Sofia—some of which seems to confirm every negative stereotype about modern art. But I wanted to give Miró another chance; so I visited the Fundació Miró in Barcelona, and read this book.
One of the most difficult tasks before any young artist is to develop her voice. By “voice� I mean many things: style, philosophy, identity, themes, and so on, which taken together make an artists work immediately recognizable as hers. In a word, this requires originality. One might be inclined to think that originality is the easiest thing to achieve—being the natural product of everyone’s differences. But to produce a deeply original work—one that could not have been produced by anybody else—is anything but easy. Artistic voice emerges in a dialectical process with one’s influences, as they are first mastered and then synthesized, until gradually something appears which cannot be traced to any influence.
This process is most easily seen among painters. And it is wonderfully illustrated in Miró, whose work incorporated fauvism, surrealism, and cubism. But it wasn’t only artistic trends that shaped the young painter. He was deeply inspired by natural sights—particularly the countryside near Montroig (near the city of Tarragona, in his ancestral Catalonia). The voice that Miró developed through his formative experiences and influences is unmistakable—displaying a sensibility for forms and color that no other artist could replicate. And consequently one feels, upon entering the Fundació Miró, the same way one feels upon entering the Dalà Museum in Figueres—that one is entering a new visual universe that obeys different laws.
In short, I have come to enjoy Miró’s work far more than I had. I find in it a sense of playfulness, and sometimes a sense of peacefulness, that is deeply appealing; and I enjoy watching his manipulation of forms shift throughout his work, while remaining recognizably Miró, like a theme and variations. But I still must admit that it does not affect me very deeply. My appreciation, in other words, is more intellectual than emotional. And I think that would have suited Miró just fine.
This little book is full of glossy pictures and does an excellent job in covering the different phases of Miró’s career.