My dear friend,
Today I am sending you a potent cup of wine: Goethe's Prometheus. Don't let it go to your head. But do read it if you get a spell of weariness or dejection, and it will renew your strength. And it will show you that a glorious death is far less noble than a struggle. You have forgotten all about death, whether or not it is glorious, haven't you?
Margit Pogany
n
A potent cup of wine – good metaphor for inspiration. Margit Pogany was a Hungarian painter and one of Brâncuși’s muses. One of the few whose identity is revealed. In other letters, she thanks him for sending stamps for her father. All of his life, Brâncuși removed the stamps from his letters and gave them to stamp collectors. He liked to share – story goes that he would give you ivy cuttings from outside the workshop, had you remarked its beauty.
"I went with a friend of mine and he showed me his sculptures. Among them was a head of white marble which attracted me strongly. I felt it was me, although it had none of my features. It was all eyes."
She was probably inspired by Narcissus, an alabaster head made between 1909 and 1910. Margit wanted her portrait done. So, Brâncuși got to work quickly.
"Each time he began and finished a new bust in clay. Each of these was a beautiful and a wonderful likeness, and each time he only laughed and threw it back into the boxful of clay that stood in the corner of the studio - to my great disappointment."
Today, many refer to Mademoiselle Pogany as the ideal portrait of the woman, based on her beauty, her elegance, her head posture and her mystery. Back in 1913, the sculpture was one of the most mocked pieces at the Armory Show in New York. “A hard-boiled egg balanced on a sugar lump” read the headlines. Alongside Duchamp’s Nude Descending Stairs, it was one of the most controversial pieces.
Brâncuși took muses quite seriously. That’s why there is a room just for them.
"You see, dear TonTon, that as soon as we doubt it, people begin to cause us misery. But our love is bigger than all that. Don't let anything get to you. Have faith in our muses."
Brâncuși
n
In love, art or in danger.
"I was taking a dip in a river, not far from the beach at Fréjus. It was hot. Suddenly a torrent came rushing down the mountainside and swept me away. I floundered in the water and was about to go under when I saw a piece of cork oak and I grabbed it. I ended up on the beach at Fréjus, choking but overjoyed, as you can well imagine. Then I had an idea: I would use this piece of wood to build a temple to Providence as a token of gratitude.
I shouldn’t have gone into that water that was like the lake in the Black Forest. The Muses that dwell there punished me, but, fortunately, the crocodile came to my rescue."
Brâncuși didn’t lose his marbles. He was just fond of finding inspiration in myths. In the same room, there are multiple versions of Danaide. In Greek mythology, the Danaids were the fifty daughters of Danaus. They killed their husbands on wedding night. If you ask me, a bit grim. But I guess it was part of Brâncuși’s dialogue with his muses for inspiration.
"Oh Muses, come and inspire me, O muses, tell me why the world and I, too, are burdened by so much misery."
