Vallauris and Picasso Pottery. 11 August.

The second day in Cote d'Azur was a very full one. Many surrounding cities were explored. 

The first city was Vallauris. This was a very quaint town that has been known through the ages for its production of ceramics, pottery, and such. There was one interesting building that seems that it had been there from ancient times, and where pottery has been made since then. I think it is amazing that people are still performing similar practices as people were thousands of years ago. It me feel that all of humanity is connected or related. 

It so came to pass that Pablo Picasso spent several years in this town in the mid to late portion of his career, and perhaps inspired by the city's traditional craft, created a large series of ceramic dishes, pots, and vases.

(Not my photo of Picasso's potery)

It was interesting to see this artistic tradition that goes back thousands of years being examined, explored, and exercised by a modern artist. It reminds me that artists, even modern artists that seem incomprehensible to some, actually do work with these past traditions in mind. In fact, besides this small foundry where Picasso worked, there was also a Picasso museum in Vallauris that is devoted to his body of pottery and ceramic work. 

However, besides Picasso's pottery, there was also a large mural that Picasso had completed here called "War and Peace." 

(not my photos of "War and Peace," since photography was not allowed, and Carabinieri were there to prevent photo-taking.)

In this mural, which spreads across every surface of the room except the floor, he expresses a view of peoples at war, and on the opposing wall, a view of people at peace. As a whole, the mural was interesting enough, and a clear example of this period of Picasso's work that is very informed by line drawings and strict borders between figures. I remember one thing Picasso said about his art that went something like this: "You, the viewer, focus on the central image of the painting, but we artists create the whole work only so that we can do the most important thing to us, which we place in the small corner of the work." So, looking at one corner of "War and Peace," I found what I took to be the most significant element in the whole room. It was a figure on the "War" half of the mural, who was carrying a shield and spear. On the shield, a dove, a symbol of peace, flies with him, and with his spear, he also holds the scales of justice.

(not my photos of "War and Peace," since photography was not allowed, and Carabinieri were there to prevent photo-taking.) 

The dove reminds me of the nonsensical paradox that is so frequently spewed, "To have peace, you must prepare for war." This, of course, is often spoken by states with the largest militaries, and who are constantly at war (such as the United States), while the most peaceful states on earth hardly have any military at all (such as Bhutan). 

The scales of justice reminded me that the most war-mongering states in history have always appealed to a sense of justice in order to wage war. That is, they typically say something like, "We are fighting the good fight." This is certainly impossible, however. If everyone is fighting for good, then there cannot be any bad guys. Perhaps Picasso is trying to ask us that even if you think you are the good guys, the other side certainly thinks otherwise, so therefore, how do you know that you are actually the good guys? It seems impossible to be so sure that you are on the side of justice, unless of course, you are the ones who are not fighting. Perhaps the only way to be surely on the side of justice is to not kill at all.