The inhuman atrocities of the fascist regime first struck Europe after a separate Luftwaffe volunteer legion bombed the peaceful Basque town in the north of Spain near the border with France.
More than a third of the inhabitants died under bombardment, and the city burned even more than three days. Shocked Europe has not yet realized what a terrible disaster is looming on it, as fascist Germany first exposed its ugly face.
Pablo Picasso. living at this time near Paris, was so impressed by what happened in Guernica, as if he had been pierced with a sharp object.
Having accepted the order for the canvas for the exhibition in Paris, he created a scale not only in size, but also in meaning a masterpiece with incredible speed – in just a month, working sometimes twelve hours a day.
The plot, in the smallest detail, as if it were already in the artist’s head and he seemed to circle what his creative imagination was embracing.
“Guernica”. made in the manner of cubism, is a huge canvas of impressive size, painted in oil colors in black and white.
The choice of this form and color is due to several reasons.
Desiring to express pain, despair, agony and anger of innocently affected people in his work, Picasso depersonalizes them, passing only the basic features by which one can recognize a mother sobbing over the body of a dead child, the body of a soldier torn to pieces, the white horse, torn to pieces a dove, a
The deformation of objects, premises and flowers is due to the horror that suddenly the Spanish city suddenly realized at night. During the war everything is terrible and devoid of colors, this is the time when there are no more colors and shapes. Everything becomes unreal, as in a nightmare, and only common features are perceived by consciousness.
The plot unfolds in a small room, probably inside the room, on the ceiling of which is a strange shaped lamp, more like a burning eye. Outside, fire blazes the building, and the figure of the man on the right is sandwiched between the two tongues of flame.
In this room like a ghost, holding a candle in his hand, a woman’s mask that resembles the ancient Greek wings. The eyes of all the characters in the picture are wide open, and a cry was stuck in my throat.
The perfect soldier continues to squeeze the blade in his hand, from which the flower grows – so Picasso passes the image of the defender who was defeated by the war. Only the head of the bull, towering above everything, expresses a gloomy indifference, trampling down on them defeated.