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“Aix-en –Provence, city of thermal springs, city of art.”
The child I was, was born in that city and grew up as if living among beautiful things, very beautiful works of art, landscapes, paintings, all sorts of music, of speech and living styles, were natural … The child I was, was taught to have an inclination for such things and works of art, and to enjoy them; his hand was growingly made skilful … How could that child not have fostered in himself gratitude and esteem for such things and forms of art, most of which had reached him from a very distant past, “from beyond death” as Malraux used to say ? In other words -as some “anti-fate of death”- how could that child, living among the works created by the living of yesteryear, not have been led to become a living himself, so that, from the gestures of his own hand, more beautiful and original works might have been created, and, in the chain of the previous creations, might have filled future children with joy ?

(Translated by Michèle Bustros)