Joan Miró "Graveur" 1991 Woodcut Engraving

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Original woodcut engraving by Joan Miró for the cover of "Joan Miró Engraver III", published by Galerie Lelong in 1991 … Read more Original woodcut engraving by Joan Miró for the cover of "Joan Miró Engraver III", published by Galerie Lelong in 1991 (Paris) and printed by the Atelier of Joan Barbarà (Barcelona). Print size: 12-3/4 x 10 inches on vélin paper. Colophon shown for authentication purposes and not included. Mint condition new old stock from our pristine copy of "Joan Miró Engraver III". Rarely are cover prints in such fine condition and suitable for display.

In 1974, Joan Barbarà (1927-2013), a distinguished Spanish painter, printmaker, and lithographer, established a workshop which soon became legendary, attracting and collaborating with art icons such as Pablo Picasso, Joan Miró, and Salvador Dalí.

Joan Miró (1893 – 1983) was a Spanish artist who worked in painting, printmaking, sculpture, ceramics and tapestry. He is one of the most important artists of the 20th century, and one of the most prolific. Initially, Miró was inspired by Spanish folk art and church frescoes, as well as prehistoric art. After moving to Paris in the early 1920, he became influenced by contemporary sources such as Surrealism, Dadaism, Fauvism and Cubism, but by 1930 developed his own unique style that is known for his use of organic forms, playful shapes, and bright colors that create childlike wonder in his images. Miró encouraged the use of "automatic drawing", letting the subconscious mind take over when drawing, to free art from conventional methods. His works are on permanent exhibition in most of the world's major museums, a museum in his hometown of Barcelona is dedicated to the artist and his legacy, the Fundació Joan Miró. In 1974, Joan Miró, working with Josep Royo, created a vast tapestry for the World Trade Center. Unfortunately, this 35-foot-wide tapestry was lost on September 11, 2001.

During the last six years of his active life, Mir6 engraved, but also lithographed and drew, as he had never done before. He threw himself at the paper, concentrating on the task at hand with a boldness, inventiveness and joy he no longer found in painting. Very likely, he no longer had the physical strength to confront the canvas and found it difficult to endure long periods of standing up, moving about in the studio and shifting heavy stretchers. He painted only rarely and with less intensity. What he preferred was to sit at a table and devote himself to the paper or copper plate before him. Perhaps what he needed at the end of his life was a more confined space, to be closer to the support... But the change was neither outright nor a sign of weakened creative faculties; at the most it was a sign of a more focused orientation. In relation to a symphony or an oratorio, chamber music is a no lesser art. And for Mir6, who came to master engraving, pushing it to its limits, transgressing its vocabulary and syntax to uncover an unknown language, engraving was an unexplored domain, a virgin territory. Within the confined surface of the copper plate or paper, the space is immense and Mir6's forays are prodigious, full of imagination and openness. Perhaps it is the very slowness and heaviness of ripe age that find their rebuttal and denial in the swiftness of the line, in the agile combinations fostered by drawing and engraving. Above all, this was an opportunity he had always hoped for: to be able to tap into the craft and draw from the intelligence of those who assisted him — the master printers and copperplate engravers — to obtain through their friendship the answers to his questions, the questions to his questions. The solitude of the painter's studio thus gave way to the emulation and swarming activity of the print studio and to the daily exchanges he now had with his assistants. See less