Visualization for GAU – End
From Report No. 2 (The Ana D Book; pg. 40)
-
Eugène Boudin
Beach at Trouville /1864/1865
(27 x 49.1 cm; Oil on wood)
(…) However, the little miss with fiery red hair and greenish eyes was far from stupid. Friendly insults were interspersed with clichés about Zeitgeist and Wiener-Geist and we immediately arranged to go and view Rembrandt’s etchings at CD. We then went to mine, so that she could tell the tales of the past few months. I gave her the bookmark with a reproduction of Boudin’s Beach at Trouville, where the young Flaubert found the red-and-black shawl of Elise Foucault-Schlesinger and his unhappiness. She looked at me in surprise when I mentioned that I too have a lot of that dark normandism in me that hates life and every thought of having to live through it. She left some time after midnight and in spite of wanting to, I did not dare ask if I may touch her. In two days’ time, it was going to be Saturday and while still standing in the doorway, she invited me to come to the market with her. If a moment before I was still regretting the bagatelle I had given her, the invitation filled me with such excess of gratitude that I agreed while blushing furiously, perhaps more because I was ashamed of myself than of the suddenly uncovered lust. Margot looked at me quizzically and then, after having counted to four, her cheeks grew slightly pink as well. I could see her hesitating, but a moment later, having thanked me again for the Boudin bookmark , she scampered down the stairs. When she left, I tried to keep myself in check. I nervously paced up and down the living room, then gave up, went to the kitchen and took the kitchen towel off the worktop.
(…)
From Report No. 2 (The Ana D Book; pg. 47)
-
Kasimir Malevich
The Red Cavalry Riding / 1928-1932
(90 x 140 cm; Oil on canvas)
(…) I was equally unable to smile the next day around midday, when nervous and cross with myself, I was coming back to those stones from the opposite direction. I wasn’t sure whether I would hold it against her more if she did or if she didn’t come. It occurred to me I could hide and see whether she took my word game literally or whether, overcome by a sense of decorum, she kept for herself at least a small fraction of the century on offer. Then I thought I might not like either of the possible solutions. That I never like any solution! The Sunday street was deserted when I walked past the spot where we had met the day before. The pavement was still showing patches of citron yellow and cobalt blue. Children wish for that kind of sky and that kind of sun. There are times when even masters are led astray by such illusions and false perspectives. I think even Malevich allowed himself to write the absurdity that cobalt sky led him to paint in sunny hues and to Impressionism. And that from the author of the Suprematist cross and the man who was able to paint white on white. I felt like crying, even though I had long since forgotten how. I was increasingly convinced I shall only snivel when I am saying goodbye. Sad.
(…)
-
Kasimir Malevich
Black Cross /1923
(106 x 106.5 cm; Oil on canvas)
-
Kasimir Malevich
White on White /1918
(79.4 x 79.4 cm; Oil on canvas)