Life at La Californie had seldom been as lively as it was in the sunny peace of August on the Riviera last year. Pablo Picasso had never seemed more relaxed, playing with his children, feeding his parrots and his owl, greeting the visitors who dropped in every day. Then one day Picasso disappeared into his big second-floor studio, and became a changed man. "There was a tragic preoccupation on his face," says Novelist Hélène Parmelin. Every day after lunch he would go up to his studio "like someone going up to the scaffold." Picasso was attempting to repaint in his own...
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