Dissølve

dissølve contemporary art published by the contemporary creative

issue one dismember: analog collage in focus rauschenberg at the tate modern ellen-mae parker’s “deconstructed days”

march 2017

editor and creative director - lucy wickham featuring - ellen-mae parker judith clark ben owers shay colley with thanks to - megan coombes lisa stendahl chereena thompson paula mihovilovic georgia panagiotou published by “the contemporary creative�

welcome to dissølve ...

As a contemporary art lover, I always found it hard to find a publication for me. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty out there and all of them have their good bits, and the bits that aren’t so great. But what bugged me most was this pretentious persona that came with an art magazine “Oh she’s reading Art Monthly, she must be 30 feet up her own arse” is what I felt people were murmuring as I read on the train. And actually, I didn’t blame them. In my experience, 90% of the time spent looking at an art publication was looking at the visuals, not because I didn’t want to read the articles, but because I didn’t understand what the hell they were talking about.

I wanted to indulge myself in what the article had to say but the language and the terminology went straight over my head, belittled me, and made me feel like I didn’t get art.

But I do.

I wanted to create a zine, filled with contemporary art, alongside articles that the youthful creative can reflect on, and appreciate. An art publication that’s approachable, to sum it up. And here it is.

Dissolve is the first in a series of contemporary zines published by “The Contemporary Creative” that explores its title in the context of art. Each of the articles inside links to our title “Dissølve” and responds to it in a creative (and user-friendly) manner. So yes, that does mean the next time you search for Dissølve in your local indie magazine store it will not have the same name, but our ethos won’t change. Always creative and always welcoming to whoever wants to read. Dissølve explores the contemporary art scene, those who are involved in, and those who are affecting its success.

The premier issue focuses on the art of analog collage, collaborates with an incredible reportage illustrator, and looks at everybody’s favourite man, Donald Trump of course, and the trouble has causing for the contemporary art scene.

If you want fancy language and waffling critique, I’d advise that you look somewhere else. But if you want an approchable, quirky place to discover what’s happening on the art scene now, then welcome.

From the editor, Lucy

content ellen mae parkers “deconstructed days”

4-7 review - combination, variety, and a stuffed angora goat 8-9 dismember - exploring the art of analog collage 10-19 the now - vanishing art funds in trump’s america 20-21 fuse 22-27 the break down - judith clark 28-29 break up notes 30-31

deconstructed days “my passion lies in repor tage illustration, and creating out of t he ever yday in a vivid and textured way; i t hink i just like to brighten up normality”.

Illustrator and graphic designer Ellen-Mae Parker collaborates with Dissølve, deconstructing her days into one illustration.

The reportage illustrations show off her quriky and colourful illustative style, but also create a sense of realism that’s often overlooked in the contemporary art world.

The combinations, curated by Ellen, are described in her own words.

“Most of these images come from a trip to southwold, like the crab and the sign from the pier.

It’s a nice place to draw because I work there so I don’t get to enjoy it, or appreciate it, usually.”

“It can be strange studying my own face, but I also find drawing myself easiest because I don’t have to worry if it comes out unflattering. I’m not going to offend anyone with an ugly drawing of myself.”

“On the last few pages, I was just studying strangers on the bus. It’s just a way to pass time on my commute and I do it a lot. It’s really hard drawing people in public because they just don’t sit still.”

rauschenberg @ the tate modern -

combination, variety and a stuffed angora goat In his lengthy career Rauschenberg experimented with everything he could get his hands on (including an extremely beautiful angora goat), and this huge variety was shown perfectly in the Eyal Ofer Galleries, at Tate Modern. His work is honest, ironic, and perceptual, but most of all, formed from a little piece of everything.

The exhibition is the premier to gather together his work since his death in 2008 displaying every genre of Rauschenbergs work, from his outlandish illustrations to an explosive mud bath, and marrying it all together to create an exhibition more assorted than a box of chocolates.

11 rooms, and each with a different theme, show the variety of skill Rauschenberg possessed. Many artists stick to the sector of the art world they like best (whether it be sculpture, photography, and so on) and spend their whole career exploring it. But what is clear from the exhibition is that Rauschenberg embodied the phrase “to have fingers in many pies” to a tee.

This man had presence in every flavour of artsy pie imaginable, whether it be photography, print, sculpture,

or illustration. Throughout his six-decade career he was a true experimentalist, and although he claimed “he did not perfect most of the things he created” he certainly produced something amazing and unique every time he constructed, well, anything. Each piece has an overwhelming sense of texture; the perspex around his works was surely because the curators knew they had to block the hands of visitors, desperate to feel Rauschenberg’s work which screams “touch me!”.

The “Combine” room shows Rauschenberg (who was known as a street-picker by many of his artist friends) had an ability to create the amazing out of any object. From 1954, he focused on a series he named “Combines” creating paintings he felt had become “physically awkward” through the addition of discarded objects. Take “Charlene”, a collage constructed in his New York Studio in 54, which is formed from not three, or four, but 11 types of media, including panels pulled from a dumpster and a light bulb from his neighbour’s home.

And what about the Angora Goat? The obscure piece of taxidermy purchased in a Brooklyn charity shop stands on a painted wooden plinth.

Around its belly, a black tyre creates a strange rubber-ring like presence (even though

the goat would certainly not be going for a swim).

This infamous piece named “Monogram” has been labelled “homoerotic” (linking it to anal intercourse) by some critics, and “ballsy and humorous” by others, but the piece has an irregular beauty, possibly linked to the flowing angora hair, or the goat’s shimmering horns, combining industry and nature in an obvious way that you can’t help stare at. The theatrical but personal feeling surrounding Rauschenberg’s Combines is created by the addition of radios, his own shoes and clothes (particularly ties), and a firm favourite, cola bottles.

An exhibition you must see, because, as cliché as it sounds, you will find a piece of art that connects to you, whether it be your artistic style, your labours of love, or something much more personal. And maybe that is why Rauschenberg was so keen on variety. His art grows from his curiosity and enthusiasm for every piece of the world, and his legacy lives on in the Tate today, and in art history, infinitely, (as long as human beings are also curious, too).

“Robert Rauschenberg” is available for viewing at the Eyal Ofer Galleries, Tate Modern, until April

the 2nd.

“charlene” robert rauschenberg, 1954, via the robert rauschenberg founadation

“monogram” robert rauschenberg, 1959, via robert rauschenberg foundation

style in focus

dismember: exploring the art of analog collage Analog collage has exploded on to the contemporary art scene, saying “no thanks” to Photoshop and “yes please” to scissors and the trustworthy glue stick.

Originating from the Dada movement which began in the 1800’s, artists like Kurt Schwitters and Hannah Höch were the original collage-ist’s and created in an act of rebellion, a form of anti-art. But now, the collage greats of our time can be found on Instagram, sharing their work to thousands of followers who show their appreciation through a “like” or, even a comment if they particularly fond of the it. But who are the collage-ist’s of today? What are they inspired by and why do they prefer the analog technique over the digital method?

Dissølve talks to two contemporary collage artists - Ben Owers and Shay Colley - and showcases their work to the Dissølve reader.

Before you start reading, get involved in the analog collage scene by completing our collage.

Cut up Dissølve if you want, or something else if you can’t bear to cut up your issue (we wouldn’t want to, either).

complete the dissølve collage

ben owers Ben Ower’s describes himself (on his Instagram page @benowersart) as a “London Based Artist/Framer/Painter”. But currently, his main focus is the growing world of analog collage, chopping up vintage imagery and pasting it onto something modern.

We chat to Ben about his abstract style and where he’d like to take his work next.

D: Hi Ben, thanks for talking to us at Dissolve today! You work primarily with collage, why is this your focus?

B: First and foremost, I am excited to be involved with the first issue of Dissolve! I focus on collage because I love the idea of giving an image a new context, taking people and places and creating a new story from images that are frozen in time. I also enjoy the time spent going through old publications searching for an image that is perfect for a composition.

D: Your collages are extremely abstracted, do you try and create a narrative when you piece your work together or is it focused on creating an interesting aesthetic?

B: First comes the narrative for me, then the aesthetics second. I often come up with a title first, that often comes from sifting through magazines and books to find a quote then I often merge quotes together to make interesting titles that relate to key images I’m going to work with.

D: We’ve noticed you often collage over things, like maps, and fashion editorials, is there a specific reason for doing this?

B: This comes from the idea of finding a new context for an image. I like to find large images (statement pieces) that are perfectly composed in photography studios and then layer over them, working with the flowing lines of the image. The map idea seemed to come from this same stem, with all the flowing lines of maps its quite easy to find a place to start from (it also comes from the fact a friend gave me a whole stack of old maps, creative I know.)

D: Where do you get your cuttings from?

B: I spend a lot of time searching for materials,

often visiting antique centres and charity warehouses looking for stacks of old magazines and books, but I also use eBay and Gumtree.

I work from a lot of new publications such as Vogue and AnOther magazine which create a good juxtaposition with the older stuff, the vintage with the modern. But in truth I’ll use anything I can get my hands on, free stuff is the best!

D: Where does your main inspiration come from, and are you inspired by any particular individuals?

B: I find instagram is a great inspiration, there are so many great people on there, people like B.D Graft, Mike DeSutter and Jay Riggio are great, along with others from the Brooklyn Collage Collective. Saying this though my main inspiration comes from the publications I work with.

D: When did you first start collaging and why?

B: It’s been about 4 years now. I studied a degree in sculpture and when I’d finished that it was hard to find space and time to create the way I did at university. I’m not quite sure how I found collage but it didn’t take long to realise that I could do it anywhere and that I could create a quick piece in minutes, or I could make a large scale piece over a couple of weeks, but now it takes up most of my time.

D: Like the other collage-ist’s featured in Dissolve this issue, your work is analog (nondigital). Why do you prefer this method?

B: I like the skill it takes to work with something that is physical and already in existence; don’t get me wrong I like seeing a lot of digital collage and I find the technology to be a great tool, but for me I find the analog option satisfies me more.

D: Is there anywhere you’d love to exhibit your work, or anyone you’d love to collaborate with?

B: I’d like to get more London shows in the future, I’ve got a big show with the London based group “Collagistes Collective” coming up in April which I am really excited about. I’d love to collaborate with B.D Graft and I’d also like to work with some screen printers - I really like that technique.

D: In the future, do you think you’ll stick to collage, or experiment with something new?

B: I guess someday it’d be great to get back into the sculpture work and pick up where I left off, but for now collage is at the front of the queue. Every time I pick up my craft-knife or scissors I’m learning something new and finding new ways to create, and I’d say for anyone who wants to create more they should get involved with analog collage.

Check out what Ben is up to on his Instagram page @benowers art, or visit his website www.benowersart. com to see his present collection in full. Ben is also available for collaborations and commissions.

“Ahead. Full of, Ideas” - Ben Owers

“That. Yellow. Dress” Ben Owers

“Hair Pin Bend” - Ben Owers

“Straightening. Out.” - Ben Owers

shay colley Australian collage-ist Shay Colley aims to take something that already exists, and cut and paste it into something new (whether it be a Persian rug, or erotic playing cards from Hong Kong). Dissolve talks to Shay about his current projects, his inspirations, and asks him about the advice he’d give to an aspiring collage-ist.

D: Hi Shay, can you tell us what the main narrative, or objective, of your work is?

S: I like ambiguity. I’m more interested in form and colour than in realism. As far as narrative goes, I guess I want to create work that speaks of possibility. To take existing recognisable patterns or symbols and rebirth them as something completely different.

D: Much of your collage is cut by hand, why do you choose this method over a digital technique?

S: Computers are great tools but I feel they really suck the ‘art’ out of a piece. I need to turn the paper in my hand over and over again. And I think the process is also about pairing textures together, there’s a physical element to collage that gets washed out when it’s done on screen. The rawness and the realness gets replaced with artificial sweetener.

D: Your main medium is collage, but you’ve experimented in a lot of fields, including illustration and even printing on rugs. Are there any other areas you’d like to explore?

S: I’ve been making some small sculptural works with my brother. He’s clever when it comes to building things and I’m useless. I’d like to keep collaborating with him.

D: You’ve recently exhibited at the c3 Contemporary Art Space in Abbotsford.

The exhibition named “God Trap” shows a collection of digitally printed rugs, comprised of hand-cut collage. Is there meaning behind these rug-collage hybrids?

S: Perfectly imperfect. Precisely imprecise.

Accidentally on purpose. Wonky.

I once read that the occurance of slight and minor irregularities in Persian rugs is derived from the belief that only god has the

right to create perfection. Modern modes of production allow us to flirt with perfection, approach unfaltering precision and almost assume a divine role. However, regardless of technical advances, all material production is infected with a human element – it’s this part that contains risk, the greasy glitches and the ‘perfectly imperfect’. I put my faith in an online photo weaving service to interpret my work in a series of digitally woven and printed rugs. Each piece is far from precise (there’s flaws in resolution and cropping) and shows errors and defects made by the basic software.Who wants to follow a perfect god?

An imperfect deity, or ‘false god’, one that is deemed unworthy of divinity is more relatable.

A god that shits and pisses, makes mistakes and sweats profusely from their upper lip. Also every piece is either a phallus or vagina. Sex is a trap. Perhaps.

D: We particularly love your collection of hand cut collages on vintage playing cards named “Bury My Heart at the Beach, Or Whatever’s Easiest”. What’s the story behind that collection?

S: I love old blown out and imperfect images.

They’re porno cards – they’ve got this mix of 80s and 90s glamour and sleaze and everything seems like it’s been bootlegged by the Hong Kong based producer from random old XXX magazines. I wanted to remove the most erotic part, the naked woman, and make the viewer consider the form of the missing figure but also take a closer look at the other elements in the composition. When there’s a naked woman (or man) in the frame most people are going to consume the image by just focusing on her, I want the viewer to look at everything.

D: Are there any artists or creative individuals you’re inspired by, or would love to meet?

S: There are so many. I think my inspiration is

D: You have just shown your first solo exhibition, and you’re developing a large fan base on social media, particularly Instagram.

What advice would you give to a freelance artist wanting to make a stand in the arts industry?

S: I think it’s pretty easy to worry about things.

I get sick with anxiety about showing works.

My advice would be is just to do it, be brave.

I guess thats what everyone says, but that’s the only way. And from there you can work out if you’re actually on the right track. I think you need to remember that your work means more to you than it does to other people. Don’t

worry that other people might think it’s not great, we’ve all seen art we don’t like. We move on, we forget it.

D: For an artist visiting Melbourne, where you currently work and live, are there any places you’d recommend hanging out at?

S: Melbourne has a lot of great independent galleries and some quality institutions. I’d recommend visiting the Heide Museum of Modern Art, Fort Delta, Gertrude Contemporary and Neon Parc. Amongst others. All good.

Find Shay on Instagram at @shay_colley to see what he’s up to, or visit his website shaycolley.com to see his work in more depth.

Taken from Shay’s recently exhibited series “God Trap”

pretty similar to others. Kusama is god. Cody Hudson makes beautiful shapes. Ken Price’s ceramic sculptures. Anything big and round and heavy.

“Bury My Heart at the Beach, Or Whatever’s Easiest” - Shay Colley

Part of the “Big, Long, Now” series - Shay Colley

the now - march 2017

vanishing where the hell are art funds going in trump’s america?

Since Trump’s election, has he done anything positive? First, he undid one of Obama’s greatest achievements as president, the Affordable Care Act, then shocked not just the nation, but the world, with a travel ban on refugees and citizens from Muslim countries including Iran, Libya and Syria, which even prevented those with a green card travelling home.

Surely he’s ruffled enough feathers in his first few months as president, right?

Wrong. Now he’s attacking the arts, supposedly cutting the already (hypothetically) small amount of money the arts receive in the US by axing the National Endowment for the Arts which funds thousands of projects, galleries and artistic communities across America.

But what is the National Endowment for the Arts?

Established in 1965

by Congress, the NEA describes itself as the

“Independent federal agency whose funding and support gives Americans the opportunity to participate in the arts, exercise their imaginations, and develop their creative capacities”.

To summarize, they fund arts to enrich the cultural heritage of America.

Since its establishment in 1965, over $5 billion has been granted to artists, artistic communities and institutions, and although the NEA has funded some controversial figures (take a look at Robert Mapplethorpe’s “The Perfect Moment” exhibition, as an example), the fund has provided nothing but good for the creatives of America. The American Institute of Graphic Arts, Iowa State University, the Design Museum of Boston and the Cultural Landscape Foundation (who have tended the White House Gardens), are a few of many institutes and foundations that would

be hit by the axe of the NEA. Not only will it affect Americans, but international students, who often receive grants from the NEA to help fund further studies in America.

So, what’s the issue, Trump?

The reasoning behind this cut is primarily to save the taxpayer money. This money will then remain in the taxpayers’ pockets (approximately 47 cents extra per year) and be spent on whatever they may choose. Another popular pro-cut argument is the question “why fund the arts when so much else is at stake?”. Many individuals feel that this money could be put towards ending America’s deficit, and improving security and communication, particularly surrounding terrorism.

Trump suggests that the cuts should be replaced by funds from private donors which he thinks are available at a high enough

amount to replace the money that the government is currently providing to the NEA. Yes, a deficit is a problem and the tax-payer’s money is important, but why cut an association as significant as the NEA? The New York Times claim the White House Budget office have drafted a “hit list” of programmes which cost less than $500 million a year to save the money they need, and the NEA is one of them. But it’s almost laughable when you look at how much of the budget the NEA is “stealing away”. Its tiny (0.003% to be exact). It was thought that in 2016, the USA spent $148 million on the NEA. Now that seems like a lot of money, but when you put

it into context, it’s actually pretty cheap. According to James P. O’Neill, the NYPD commissioner, $240 million - $300 million is the projected cost of the New York City Police protecting Trump and his family at Trump Tower for four years, and Trump’s wall will cost an estimated $12$15 billion. So maybe the Trump clan should move into the White House (like they’re meant to) so these art funds can continue, or get the hint that it’s time to just quit the wall.

But the NEA isn’t the only fund that’s been hit, Trump also aims to cut or privatise The National Endowment for Humanities and Corporation for Public Broadcasting to save “the taxpayer’s money”. Does anybody think he’s cutting

the CPB because he hates the way that public broadcasters present him?

This cut would affect SNL, who love to have a swing at Trump and his cabinet in their satirical sketches.

Just a suggestion.

Funnily enough, Trump is yet to release a statement on what he’s cutting and what he’s not. But I’m sure he’ll take a big chunk (of what’s already a small budget) from the arts, especially the NEA. I wonder if he’ll spend it on yet another golf-holiday to Mar-a-Lago, which the Washington Post claim has already cost his precious taxpayer $10 million.

Visual created by anolog collage-ist Adam Hale www.thedailysplice.com

fuse: when art and skin join

A collection of portraits inspired by fusing the skin of a creative with work by their favourite artist.

megan with van gogh’s “the starry night” Vincent Van Gogh’s “The Starry Night” is one of the most recognisable paintings in art history. It depicts his view of a midnight countryside sky, which was actually seen from the window of an asylum he had checked himself in to.

lisa with matisse’s “the parakeet and the mermiad” “The Parakeet and The Mermaid” was created towards the end of his career as part of the “Cut-Out” series. Because of Mattise’s ill health, he did not physically make the piece but instead directed his apprentice on the positioning of the shapes.

chereena with untitled picasso piece from his expressionist years It was thought that this piece was painted towards the end of Picasso’s life. In one of his fathers journals, art historians found Picasso’s first word was “pencil”, and he began painting professionally at the youthful age of fifteen.

paula with basquiat’s “philistines” Jean-Michel Basquiat “Philistines” was created to demonstrate rebellion towards the arts, and to protest against the low prices that art dealers were offering for his pieces. He blamed this on his race, and his anti-establishment attitude.

georgia with rauschenberg’s “axle” “Axle” is one of many infamous silkscreen’s by Robert Rauschenberg, and was inspired by war and its associations. He studied art in Paris. but found European art “boring”, so returned to America as soon as possible.

the break down - judith clark

“we don’t need big spaces and big budgets to do magical things - so whoever wants to do it should start doing it now.”

Australian born, raised in Rome, and currently calling London her home, curator Judith Clark is not only an exhibition-maker, but a previous gallery owner, and a professor in her field, training new creatives in the art of curation and fashion museology at the London College of Fashion. Most recently she curated the “Vulgar: Fashion Redefined” at the Barbican Art Gallery which challenges the idea of taste, and vulgarity. She has curated for the British Council, Louis Vuitton, and the Artangel, to name a few (a list of 40, in total). But what is curation? And what makes a good curator in today’s competitive industry?

Dissølve asks Judith to break down her job role and its many territories, discuss her stance on the current industry, and respond to the question on many creatives lips, is fashion art?

D: Summing up your job title as an “exhibitionmaker” is very broad, what do you think are the main roles of your job title as a curator?

JC: It is broad but is also very specific: it refers to a particular attitude towards exhibitions and the relationship between the many separate components. I take into consideration both the space and the objects on display; the design and the curation, the mannequins, the wigs, the captions, …so I am an exhibition maker in the literal sense of the term.

D: Do you feel your approach to curation is unique?

JC: My approach is not unique generally, or within the art field, but it perhaps was seen to be more unique within fashion curation. Presenting dress was predominantly an activity within the museum (rather than the gallery) and fashion curation was a discipline preoccupied for many years with simply showing a historical garment - not thinking of it experimentally. I was an outsider, wanting to do something new. I studied architecture. I did not serve an apprenticeship within a museum before curating exhibitions.

D: How and where did you find your feet in

the industry?

JC: I don’t think I have found my feet.

D: Until very recently, the study of Fashion Curation was impossible to find in any university prospectus. What inspired you to teach the art of curation and museology to other creatives?

JC: I wanted to teach what I would have wanted to learn when I began - I think this is often how it works. I have a wonderful relationship with my students past and present as I love that environment and I think they benefit from having a tutor currently working on exhibition projects, so that we can look at current work as case studies.

D: You produced an incredible exhibition catalogue for the “Spectres” exhibition that was shown at the V&A in 2005, which was brimming with research, processes and illustrations. What inspired you to create such a unique anthology, rather than a more typical catalogue?

JC: I always want to see both the research and the installation shots when I buy exhibition catalogues.

I couldn’t imagine not doing that when I first had a chance to create a museum catalogue myself.

I felt it would be like telling half a story. Seeing

engagement and commercially of course now the two are closer than ever, but I don’t relish the assumption that we are looking at a hierarchy, that there is a conceptual category that fashion aspires to be in, rather than relish in itself.

D: You were born to Australian parents and grew up in Rome, did remaining in Rome ever appeal to you or did you feel you were drawn to London? wonderful images of objects is fantastic, but an exhibition should be very different to the sum of its parts.

D: Can you tell us about the process of a large-scale exhibition, like “The Vulgar”, for example?

JC: This is very difficult to summarise of course! It is not as seamless as people imagine - the research doesn’t always come first, assumptions come first, then research and design almost simultaneously then edits. With this there was the aspect of the text driving a lot of the thematic organisation of the rooms, and looking back at different definitions written by Adam often made me change my mind about a given section. Then the designers of course have to agree to it….

D: Your husband, psychoanalyst Adam Phillips who you metioned earlier, co-curated “The Vulgar” alongside you. Do you find the collaborative process enjoyable, and what was it like to work alongside someone you knew so well?

JC: I always assumed that I would return to Rome, it was an incredibly difficult city to leave as you can imagine. But I came to London to study and my life became embedded here. Now I can’t picture living anywhere else.

D: Do you, or would you like to indulge in any other creative forms?

JC: Absolutely, it would be to learn the crafts involved in making more complex exhibitions, carving, embroidering, wig-making…a lot.

D: If you could give a piece of advice to a person with desire to curate, what would it be?

JC: It would be to curate. And by that I mean take every opportunity to build up their own language.

If you look up MmuseumM in New York city - the smallest museum, you will see what I mean. It is a fantastic project in a tiny space. We don’t need big spaces and big budgets to do magical things - so whoever wants to do it should start doing it now.

JC: It makes it easier, certainly, and more pleasurable. It means that ideas can evolve over a longer period of time. It is difficult to make decisions in focused meetings, whereas if you live with someone you can have a sudden idea and discuss it there and then, even if only to discard it!

D: Where do you find your inspiration? Is it from books, other creatives or from the world around you?

JC: All of these of course. I collaborate with an amazing group of people both at the university in the Centre for Fashion Curation office as well as craftspeople who I work with the build-up exhibitions with, which utterly transforms them.

D: Your focus is fashion, but your work has been shown in many art galleries, do you feel they respect fashion as an art form, and what is your take on the “is fashion an art form” debate?

JC: I am not keen on the way this debate has been articulated. We use similar strategies for

Images sourced from judithclarkcostume.com

break-up letters Leaving something you love behind is never easy and it’s even worse when it’s because it let you down. Dissølve pens letter’s to the stationary we’ve left behind.

“Everything is a miracle. It is a miracle that one does not dissolve in one’s bath like a lump of sugar.”

Pablo Picasso