Uncle Pablo

An undiscovered collection of Picasso paintings is big news in the art world. Last year a solid tip that such a collection did exist was given to pretty, U.S.-born Rosamond Bernier, onetime Paris Vogue staffer and now co-editor (with her French husband) of a new, ambitious art review, L'Oeil (circ. 30,000). Address of the collection: 48 Paseo de Gracia, Barcelona. The owner: Picasso's younger sister, Maria Dolores de Vilato. Editor Bernier, who eight years ago charmed Picasso into letting her get the first pictures of his Antibes paintings, headed straight for Barcelona. The pictures of the early Picassos and the family apartment, published last week in L'Oeil, add up to some unexpectedly offbeat and unknown Picasso art, plus a fascinating introduction to the bohemian Barcelona branch of the Picasso family. "Come at 11." Telephoning for an appointment at the Barcelona apartment, Editor Bernier got a surprising answer: "Come at 11 tonight." Once inside, she found herself plunged into the world of a gypsy encampment. "The lights burn out all the time here," Picasso's niece Lolita explained. Added Nephew Juanin: "And the fuses always blow up." In the semidarkness, Rosamond Bernier saw a room cluttered with ancient furniture, presided over by Picasso's smiling sister, Dona Lola, wrapped in a sheet held together with safety pins, and flanked by two more Picasso nephews, both doctors. "Mama suffers from rheumatism and can't sleep. None of us goes to bed before 6." the family explained, then plunged into the evening's entertainment. Doctor Pablin began plucking out a lively flamenco on his guitar. Lolita sat down at the piano. In no time Juanin began a heel-stomping dance; Doctor Jaime handed around glasses of sweet Malaga wine while keeping time with a multicolored duster (a present from Uncle Pablo); Dona Lola swayed happily to the rhythm, urging the dancers on with shouts of "Ole!" To show off the Picasso pictures, the family cheerfully struck matches to give Editor Bernier a first tantalizing peek. Back next day at 6 p.m. for a daylight look (the family sleeps all morning, siestas in the afternoon), Rosamond Bernier found a treasure trove of Picassos, most of them stacked dustily against the medical cabinets used by Dr. Pablin to keep plaster casts of his patients' deformed feet. Cherished but neglected, one Picasso canvas had a hole punched in it. In all, there were some 20 oils and sketches done by young Pablo at the age of 13 or 14--sure-stroked, somber portraits of Picasso's family, of Dona Lola dressed in a borrowed Communion dress, of Picasso's father, a painstaking, academic artist who specialized in paintings of birds. "That's Spain." But what especially caught Rosamond Bernier's eye was the collection of nine oils painted by Picasso during a 1917 visit to Barcelona. It was an event the family is not likely to forget. Uncle Pablo rode into town with the Diaghilev Ballet Russe, promptly abducted Ballet Dancer Olga Koklova (whom he later married), set up house in Barcelona's Hotel Rancini. In a holiday mood, Picasso began turning out canvases in a bewildering variety of styles: a balcony view of Barcelona's Christopher Columbus column; a painting of a Spanish dancer lush enough to hang in a bullfighter's dressing room. Well into his cubist period at the time, Picasso substituted for the low-keyed palette of his Paris paintings a whole new range of colors--pink, mauve, almond green, vivid reds and blacks. Back in Paris, Rosamond Bernier hurried round to Picasso's cluttered studio, presented him with an armful of presents sent to Uncle Pablo by Dona Lola and her children. With chuckles of delight, the 73-year-old Picasso untied an old shoe box and pulled out a bright red earthenware piggy bank, unwrapped a jar of fruit paste, an envelope of Jordan almonds from the butcher shop ("That's Spain. One buys bonbons at the butcher's," commented Picasso), a tissue paper filled with cotton seeds ("Just what we need here!"). Picasso glanced eagerly at the family photographs, turned the occasion into an old home week with his comments: Nephew Jaime--"He looks just like the Count of Paris"; Dona Lola--"She resembles a bullfighter's mother or a Roman empress"; their apartment--"Why, they live better than I do!"* "Good! Good!" Glancing at L'Oeil's pictures of his old works, Picasso searched in vain for the name of his Spanish model, explaining: "We called her 'La saucisse' [ the sausage]." Then, spotting a rare 1904 engraving, Le Repas Frugal, he said: "I didn't know they had this. It's worth a fortune." But what held Picasso's attention longest was a plaster Madonna from his boyhood home. Exclaimed Picasso: "We had this statue in Malaga. Actually, it's a statue of Venus which father bought in the flea market. He painted on the tears, draped the figure in plaster-soaked cloth. Now my niece has made a crown of flowers. Good! Good! She continues the tradition."

* A situation Picasso will soon change. Two weeks ago he handed back his gingerbread Riviera house in 'Vallauris to his former wife, Franchise Gillot, and for 12 million francs bought a sunny, 13-room villa, La null overlooking Cannes, six miles from Communist Leader Maurice Thorez. Said Soviet-Admirer Picasso proudly: "For the first time in my life I will be a houseowner."

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