I know nothing, no, less than nothing, about art, but even I would recognise a Miro almost anywhere. The colours, the mischief bursting out of each canvas, the seemingly naive and childlike technique, so effortless-looking that you know there are millions of hours of work behind it - this geezer was truly unique. And now I live in his street!
Miró, wild spirit, it says here in the reception of the elegant and ethereal Miró Fundació a few minutes' (well, 25) walk from my gaff. Would it be churlish to point out that they could have put the Fundació in the street named after him, Avenue Joan Miro? Well, yes, because the museum is actually right where he lived and worked - intensely - for the last 25 years of his life.
And if you got up every morning to see this (minus the crappy buildings), wouldn't you be working in an artistic fever as well?
The Arts Society of Mallorca had arranged an engaging and lively talk by Alejandro over at the Fundació. Don't you love watching people in action who really know their stuff and, more importantly, love their stuff with a vengeance? Listening to Alejandro and getting a good look at the actual workshop where Miró worked feverishly to churn out more and more stuff, I wanted to find out more about this Spanish national treasure. Good thing he didn't stay on in his birthplace Barcelona, but moved to Mallorca and married local beauty Pilar Juncosa, an artist in her own right.
The really cool thing about Miro's workshop, apart from the location, the building itself complete with Miro's signature colours red (sun), blue (sky and water) and yellow (crops)
the view and of course his incredible canon of work, was that it was kept just like he left it when he left the world in 1983. All his paints and brushes were there, as well as a quirky collection of bits and pieces he had picked up on his many travels, like Hopi figures from Arizona, a bat skeleton, a biscuit, and several items made by his grandchildren. My eyes immediately zoomed in on some Chinese characters:
I was hoping it was that Miro had gone to China pre-revolution, before the communists ruined the Chinese written language, among other things, and there learnt Chinese characters. But no, this book and ink were from a trip he made to Japan. According to Alejandro, Miro had been greatly inspired by Japanese art and is held in high esteem in that country. Indeed, as soon as he discovered how the calligraphers and artists made ink, he bought up the whole ink-shop. Too right! Chinese characters rule. The proper ones that is, not simplified. 打倒簡體字！
You know what? I'm going to find out more about Joan Miro. I'm going back to the museum, see if I don't! Oh, and also they have THE best gift shop I have ever seen.
Miró Mallorca Fundació, Carrer Saridakis 29. Tel: 34 971701420