How I (Almost) Met Dora Maar
It was in the early 1990s. I had found a cosy flat in Rijeka (Croatia), not far from the Trsat castle, and was staying there with my little daughter.
Now and then, I would go to the castle, and then inevitably finish on the playground behind it.
One day, as I stood gazing across the lower reaches of the castle grounds, my eyes fell upon her silhouette. She was standing still, a serene presence in this at times overcrowded place.
But not that day. That day I could barely spot few people around.
I was thrilled. My baby daughter kept demanding my attention, but somehow I wanted to approach the woman, and just tell her something.
I wasn’t sure what. I took my daughter and made a few steps forward.
I knew it was Dora Maar. A friend who lived nearby told me about her frequent visits to this neighbourhood. As I learned later, she was probably staying at her friend’s place. She would often visit Rijeka. She understood the language and was familiar with the area.
A couple of meters further I stopped. I saw her face, her gaze firmly resting on the little church below.
I loved that place. My grandparents exchanged their wows there in the turbulent late 1930s, and after that, they chose the same church for the christening of their only daughter.
But why was Dora Maar contemplating St. George’s church, nestled on the Trsat hill above Rijeka, in Croatia, with such an intense gaze? And why was she coming back, visiting the same place over and over again?
I would discover it only much later.
Dora Maar, born Theodora Markovic, was the daughter of a famous Croatian architect and a French woman. Her father built some very important buildings in Buenos Aires, which shaped entire neighbourhoods. She grew up in between Buenos Aires and Paris. In Paris, she studied photography at the École de Photographie de la Ville de Paris.
In her photographic works, Dora Maar showed a great interest in the marginal fringes of society, impoverished children, and blind beggars, and she portrayed them with unusual dignity.
Jacques Guenn, a photography critic, in L’Art Vivant (1934), described the young Dora Maar, working in a lavish studio she shared with another photographer, as
“a dark-haired huntress of images, whom long chases do not fatigue”, and commented on her insatiable curiosity about the world.
Dora Maar took part in major surrealist exhibitions, and her photographs were reproduced in surrealist publications such as Documents, Le Minotaure, and Cahiers d’Art. Some of Maar’s photographs are considered central documents of Surrealism.
The poet Paul Eluard and his wife Nusch were her close friends. Paul wrote a poem for Dora, called “Identitees”, and Dora made several portraits of Nusch Eluard.
She also worked as a commercial photographer, doing portraits and advertisements, and pursued street photography and avant-garde experimentation in her spare time.
It is little known that, after she opened her own atelier in a part of Paris known for high fashion, she worked for the fashion magazine Heim. She received orders for Chanel, and among her regular clients were Jacques Heim, Jeanne Lanvin, and Elsa Schiaparelli. She also did commercials for beauty products — in 1934 Ambre Solaire was among her clients.
When she met Picasso, she was at the top of her career, he was at the lowest point of his and hadn’t painted for months. He was attracted by her spirit, and was refreshed by her intelligence and independence. Although Picasso famously had a strong character, Maar was a formidable and independent woman and could well hold her own, at least at the beginning. Maar and Picasso worked closely together: she gave him technical advice and helped with photographically related prints, and he inspired her art.
Maar documented the painting of Guernica, from shortly after its beginning to its completion. Photographing such a huge painting wasn’t easy, the studio was poorly lit, and it required extensive darkroom work. The visual record was commissioned by Cahiers d’Art. Maar’s eight pictures show a fascinating evolution, highlighting Picasso’s concentration on the interplay of light and dark and reinforcing the black-and-white association with photography.
Unfortunately, this relationship was abusive and Picasso couldn’t help but humiliate this woman, and treat her badly, whilst also having other affairs.
After he suddenly left her for much younger Francoise Gillon, Dora Maar suffered a total breakdown. She was treated by the famous psychiatrist Jacques Lacan.
Maar gradually recovered and after that led a rather secluded life, finding solace in religion. Discovering her address or contacting her was very difficult since she was protected by the French government. Dora Maar continued to produce artwork and rarely spoke about Picasso.
And I guess she wanted to put all the pieces of her complicated life, spread over two continents and at least three countries, somehow together.
That’s why she was standing there, looking at the tiny church, being fully immersed. That was the place where her parents got married, at the beginning of the 20th century. Her father’s family history was probably closely linked to this chapel for many reasons, but that is another story for another time.
And I just couldn’t interrupt that meditative moment of hers, it didn’t feel right. So I stood there for a while and then walked away.
At some stage of our lives, we all go looking for our roots. There has to be a place, or a place in time, or just a snippet of time frozen in a place that exists only in our memory. We firmly cling to it because it represents a piece of our identity. That single piece that, like in a puzzle, is able to change the whole picture.
More about Dora Maar, and some of her artwork:
https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-strange-surrealist-magic-of-dora-maar-180981226/
https://www.artforum.com/features/phil-taylor-on-dora-maars-le-simulateur-1935-246930/
https://www.newyorker.com/culture/photo-booth/the-voraciousness-and-oddity-of-dora-maars-pictures
https://www.culturewhisper.com/r/visual_arts/dora_maar_tate_modern_exhibition/14265
References:
L’Enfant, J. (1996). Dora Maar and the Art of Mystery. Woman’s Art Journal, 17(2), 15–20. https://doi.org/10.2307/1358462
