Word: villone
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...dealer always keeps his eye on the obituary columns: the death of a big collector can convulse the market by suddenly making available treasures that have been out of reach for years. The death of an artist can have even more interesting repercussions. Two years ago, Octogenarian Jacques Villon fractured his hip bone, and the rumor quickly spread that he was dying. Within 24 hours, his canvases disappeared from gallery walls all over Paris as dealer after dealer waited for Villon prices to skyrocket. The old man recovered, but as one Right Bank dealer sheepishly says of himself...
...Homer and the Sappho are routine, and the randy-romantic Villon ploddingly pedestrian ("Oh where is last year's snow?"). The quiet golden glow of Leopardi's L'infinito, one of the supreme sonnets in all literature, is messily extinguished; the wild-strawberry innocence of Hebel's Sic Transit acquires a chemical tang of quick-frozen fruitiness; and the fine dandiacal glitter of the Baudelaires is spotted with phraseological mudballs-"this obscene beast," for instance, is scarcely a felicitous rendition of "ce monstre délicat...
Though predominantly contemporary and abstract, the exhibition ranged the centuries. Yugoslavia sent reproductions of 22 of the country's 6,000 medieval Byzantine frescoes. There was a room of powerful Orozco oils from Mexico, a retrospective of Jacques Villon from France. The Soviet Union sent its customary assortment of Lenin portraits and statues of muscled workers. Cuba followed suit with some bearded Fidelistas and a ten-foot woodcut showing Uncle Sam, abetted by imperialist lackeys from the Associated Press and the United Press, stamping on the "bleeding Cuban people." Manhattan's Museum of Modern Art picked...
...collection ranges from the Norwegian Edvard Munch to Canada's Pollock-like abstract expressionist, Jean-Paul Riopelle. Bonnard. Villon, Matisse, Picasso, Leger, Poliakoff and Rouault are all represented. One of Paul Klee's best-known works. Seven O'Clock over the Roofs, looks like a toy town built with brown and greenish blocks. Oslo had never seen a finer group of Juan Crises, nor had it been exposed to Surrealist Max Ernst...
...Sand. To visitors last week, the foundry was still the place of weird shapes and leaping shadow that Duchamp-Villon and Brancusi knew well. In one room, sweet-smelling brown wax boiled on a rosy, potbellied stove. In the 100-ft.-long casting shed, coke fires hissed under fat crucibles shaped like medieval cannons, and overhead hoists trundled swaddled casts to their firing-pits. In a finishing room, a workman lay in the arms of a large bronze nude, reverently polishing her nose. In another corner, Marc Chagall supervised the application of a patina to his latest piece. Mustache quivering...