The Washington Post - USA (2022-02-13)

E8 EZ EE THE WASHINGTON POST.

Ar

BY KELSEY ABLES

W

e typically associate romance
with images of sunsets on the
beach and candlelit dinners.
Not alien landscapes.
But in 1936, it was a mysterious land-
scape painting that left American artist
Kay Sage lovestruck. Created by French
surrealist Yves Tanguy, the canvas was
filled with odd, organic shapes, rendered
with striking intricacy and uncanny real-
ism. Sage recalled later that she “could
not tear herself away.”
And in four years, Sage (1898-1963) and
Tanguy (1900-1955) would be married,
living out the Surrealist belief that there is
no such thing as coincidence: That mys-
terious painting’s title was “I Await You.”
There are plenty of famous art couples:
Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg;
Lee Krasner and Jackson Pollock; Frida
Kahlo and Diego Rivera, to name a few.
But this pair of quieter Surrealists flew
under the radar. Unlike Dali or Miró,
neither became a household name. And,
according to Sage, they “dislike[d] terri-
bly the idea of being a team.” In 1954, they
agreed to a joint exhibition at the Wads-
worth Atheneum Museum of Art in Hart-
ford, Conn., on the condition that their
paintings be hung in separate galleries.
Today, though, their work has been
reunited, displayed together in museums
across the country — including the Na-
tional Gallery of Art and the San Francisco
Museum of Modern Art. Sage’s paintings
are more architectural and Tanguy’s more
biomorphic, but the unreal places they
capture — impossibly vast plains, devoid
of figures but full of sensation — distill
feelings that lack language and logic. Seen
together, their work is a testament to the
harmonic yet harrowing e xperience of two
vivid inner worlds meeting.
Human connection, particularly this
time of year, is often reduced to marketable
truisms. We see love glorified in gushy
social media posts and one-size-fits-all
cards. I’ve found refuge from the commer-
cialism and cliches in Sage and Tanguy,

because their art and relationship capture

something more honest about love.

The year they married, for instance, Sage

painted “I Have No Shadow.” A narrow, dark

passageway opens to two tiny figures stand-

ing on an empty horizon, as if plucked from

the ether and paired for eternity. Conjuring

the expansive, defenseless feeling of a new

romance, it’s an austere image, imbued

with anxiety and hope.

Sage and Tanguy were both influenced

by metaphysical painter Giorgio de Chiri-

co, but they developed their own distinc-

tive styles. Sage’s signature canvases lure

you into carefully designed, post-apoca-

lyptic visions. With billowing textiles,

staunch towers and bridges to nowhere,

they suggest some quiet “after,” when

functionality is long gone.

By contrast, Tanguy seems to capture

the primordial. Scholars have likened his

biomorphic imagery to the ancient rock

formations of his native Brittany. Looking

at them creates the sensation of having a

word stuck on the tip of your tongue.

Over Sage and Tanguy’s careers, sexism

prevented close comparisons of their

work. A 2011-2012 show, “Double Soli-

taire: The Surreal Worlds of Kay Sage and

Yves Tanguy,” at the Katonah Museum of

Art in New York and the Mint Museum in

Charlotte, marked the first time they had

shared an exhibition since 1954.

In an essay for the catalogue, curator

Jonathan Stuhlman detailed Sage’s influ-

ence on Tanguy. His forms moved closer

to the viewer; he started using tall figures

(Stuhlman calls them “personages”); and

the bubbly shapes of his early work calci-

fied into hard structures. Even his palette

faded to Sage’s demure olives, khakis and

grays, epitomized in her “I Saw Three

Cities” (1944). Put Tanguy’s 1929 painting

“The Look of Amber” beside such later

works as “The Mirage of Time” (1954) or

“Indefinite Divisibility” (1942), and you

can see his evolution.

Tanguy first saw Sage’s work in 1938 and

later recalled, “Kay Sage, man or woman, I

didn’t know; I just knew the paintings were

very good.” They were introduced by a mu-

tual friend and soon became a couple. With

Europe on the brink of war, Sage, who had

been living in Paris, returned to the United

States and founded the Society for the Pres-

ervation of European Culture, which

brought French artists to the United States.

Among them was Surrealist leader André

Breton and, of course, Tanguy. Sage and

Tanguy married in 1940 and, a year later,

moved to Connecticut, not far from fellow

artists Alexander Calder and Arshile Gorky.

While some friends described their

partnership as uneasy, artist Roberto

Matta saw a smitten pair. “They even had

happy fights. They invented fight humor,”

he said. They went everywhere together,

shared a studio and spoke only French.

“Everything was obliterated that was not

Yves,” Sage said.

Through art, they often documented

their lives together. They exchanged

paintings when they married, and Tanguy

created several works titled “Pour Kay.” In

1947, Sage painted “Ring of Iron, Ring of

Wool,” likely referencing traditional gifts

for sixth and seventh wedding anniversa-

ries. In the work, one of two triangle forms

stands closer to the sea — possibly a nod to

Tanguy’s deep ties abroad. After Tanguy

died suddenly in 1955, Sage made “ Tomor-

row Is Never.” Tall dark towers trap twist-

ed sheets, a recurring motif that she usual-

ly painted fluttering free.

Space and constriction in Sage’s and

Tanguy’s art might speak to their lives

together, balancing intense connection

with artistic independence.

One of Tanguy’s favorite paintings,

“The Hunted Sky” (1951), hung in their

living room. It shows two megalithic,

abstract heads composed of the same tiny

organic shapes. From one perspective,

the figures look as if they could be merg-

ing into one. From another, they appear to

be facing each other, frozen in a perpetu-

al, cryptic gaze.

Sage described their bond as “an amal-

gamation of two beings into one blinding

totality.” Viewing their work is similar:

You have to forgo reason and succumb to

an alternate, mystifying realm. Under-

standing it is like trying to truly know

another person — there is no endpoint, no

takeaway, just a lifetime of learning.

Surrealist couple Kay Sage and

Yves Tanguy painted love’s edgier side

W ADSWORTH ATHENEUM MUSEUM OF ART

LEFT: Yves

Tanguy and

Kay Sage,

Surrealist

painters who

married in

1940.

BELOW: The

couple with

cats around

1950.

ARCHIVES OF AMERICAN ART, SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION