‘As long as I am breathing,” Françoise Gilot once said, “I am painting.” It is no surprise then that the artist, who died earlier this month at the age of 101, has left behind a remarkable body of work: paintings, collages, ceramics, drawings and lithographs as well as poetry and prose – the fruits of a brilliant, 80-year career. Tributes poured out across the globe, as commentators seized the opportunity to reflect on Gilot’s achievements. But it turns out celebrating Gilot’s legacy is a bit of a Pandora’s box because, for 10 years, she was Pablo Picasso’s muse, his lover, the mother of two of his children and – let’s not forget – his artistic companion and intellectual equal. She was also, as Picasso liked to characterise her, “the woman who says no”.
And therein lies the problem: many of the articles have defined her life as inescapably entwined with his, as if the gold dust emanating from Picasso should be more than enough for any woman artist. Writing in the Guardian, Katy Hessel rightly asked: “Why is a great painter who lived to 101 still defined by a man she left in the 1950s?” This, thankfully, is part of a growing awareness, a desire to nurture a different kind of art history, one entirely more nuanced and inclusive. The Brooklyn Museum in New York is currently making waves with It’s Pablo-matic: Picasso According to Hannah Gadsby, a show co-curated by the Australian standup who has attacked the artist in her routine.
