These texts, which go from 1894 to 1906, present us with the painter Paul Cézanne. And that is how he signed some of his letters: Pictor P. Cézanne. Indisoluble then, it can be said, as it was said, that it is the pure painter. As such he always felt, brush in hand. So, sitting at the table, he would ruminate: Look how the light loves the apricots tenderly, he takes them completely, he enters his pulp, he illuminates all his sides. But it is avaricious towards peaches, of which only half becomes luminous. And whoever the visitor was, poet, sculptor, painter, collector or soldier, they will find the same thing: a strong and mysterious life, cultivated in the most extreme solitude, in the silence of those who debate between their little sensation and the idea, all Once persecuted and never reached, in war against the analytical of the Schools and the banality of the frauds. Then you wil...read more
