The hard experience of exile

A 1940 French General Intelligence report tells us that Picasso was arrested for lack of an identity card, that he “held extremist views while evolving towards communism,” and that he “rendered no service to our country during the war when he was 30 years old in 1914.” The report points out that, according to the indiscretions of his concierge, he was “haughty and withdrawn” and had scarce contact with his neighbors. On that date, his application for French citizenship was rejected[1]: “From all the information gathered, it appears that this foreigner does not meet the requirements for obtaining naturalization. Moreover, he must be considered as a suspect from a national perspective.” Nevertheless, the report points out that there is no trace of him in the judicial police files.[2]

 

Picasso was deeply concerned about the political situation in Europe, which he transformed into agonizing or suffering subjects in his paintings. He was witnessing the agony of the Spanish people from France, where he had settled permanently, yet he was not granted French citizenship. His thick file, regularly updated by a fastidious police force, was undoubtedly responsible in part for the authorities' refusal to grant him citizenship, seeing Picasso not as an extraordinary painter but rather as a subversive element. The file includes details and rumors about his private life, the different addresses where he stayed, summaries of his artistic career, his relationships, his encounters, his habits, and above all his political views, which damaged him during this very difficult period.

 

A memorandum sent by the General Information Department to the Préfecture de police dated May 7, 1940 reports a quarrel at a café in Saint-Germain-des-Prés with a Polish officer in civilian clothing, pointing out that Picasso “openly criticized our institutions and praised the Soviets.”[3]  The numerous reports held at the Préfecture were invariably suspicious of him. Consulting these files, one has a disturbing sense of an intimacy revealed against the will of its subject, who is suddenly exposed, with his grey areas and his powerlessness, before an administration that controls the fate of foreigners without the slightest trace of empathy. Not only was Picasso not French; in addition, he openly stated his political commitment! And the Communist Party was perceived as a dangerous, foreign organization at the time. Communism appeared as the enemy of the Republic.

 

In 1940, the Spanish refugees who had fled the Civil War hoped to find a welcoming land in France while they waited for better times ahead. But the French government, overwhelmed by the flow of new arrivals, distributed them into different camps, first in the Pyrénées-Orientales region, in Saint-Cyprien, Argelès-sur-Mer and Le Barcarès. The internment camps grouped the Basques and former members of the International Brigades and the Durruti Division (Gurs, Le Vernet), the Catalans (Agde, Rivesaltes), and the elderly (Bram). That was where they all remained as the military situation unfolded throughout Europe. Faced with the hazards of history against their will, many needed care, help, and attention. They suffered from terrible hygienic conditions, insufficient food, and extremely harsh “detention” regulations, with families being separated. Picasso was aware of it all, just as he knew the power of resistance of the “internees,” who managed to remain united and mutually supportive. The records held in the French National Archives on the organization of these camps provide information about their rules and political decisions, allowing us to write a history with multiple voices and to understand the mindset of an era. The entire administrative arsenal is revealed in detail, thanks to the many official exchanges and internal memoranda.

 

Picasso was personally confronted with this tragedy when his two nephews, Javier and Josefin Vilató, crossed the border into France and were interned in the camp at Argelès-sur-Mer. Javier had enlisted with the Republic Army and joined his brother on the front lines in 1939. When the Republican forces retreated, the two brothers left for France along with a flood of refugees who were attempting to escape from the advance of the Nationalist forces. Picasso managed to get his nephews released with the help of Albert Sarrut, the Minister of Interior at the time. Having visited the makeshift camps set up to accommodate Spanish refugees in January 1939, Sarrut was likely to have been particularly receptive to Picasso’s request, which coincided with this inspection, and was willing to help. Javier and Josefin arrived in Paris in February and the artist took care of them. The two brothers stayed in France until September. When the Second World War broke out, they decided to go back to Spain. During their months in Paris, Picasso saw them often, introducing them to his circle of intellectual friends and enabling them to work in painting and printmaking.  When they returned to Spain, they left their canvasses with Picasso.

 

Picasso joined his partner Marie-Thérèse and the little Maya in Royan. He then moved in with Dora Maar, left for Paris, and returned to Royan in May 1940 when defeat appeared imminent. He finally went back to Paris with Dora and left Marie-Thérèse and their daughter far from the dangers of the capital in wartime. Tormented by his complicated personal life and the general atmosphere of tension, Picasso conveyed these harrowing situations in his paintings, full of brutality, lies, numerous skulls and oppressive, dark characters.

 

[1] Picasso requested French citizenship in April 1940. His request was rejected and he never applied again.

[2] Archives of the Préfecture de police, op. cit.

[3] Archives of the Préfecture de police, file GA 230_204648.