Belgium 1899 – 1984

Henri Michaux was born in Namur in Belgium in 1899 and grew up in Brussels. He intended to join the priesthood but followed his father's wishes and began studying medicine. But he quickly abandoned his studies and became a sailor.

In 1922 Michaux moved to Paris where he lived for the rest of his life. He began writing poetry and was also inspired to start drawing and painting by artists such as Paul Klee, Max Ernst and Giorgio de Chirico whom he met in Paris in 1925. He was close to the surrealists and felt inspired by their methodical techniques, including automatism as an important tool to reach the subconscious.

Between 1927 and 1937 Michaux travelled to South America and Asia. He was deeply inspired by Zen Buddhism and calligraphy, and attempted to create a universal alphabet, hoping its letters would create a world‑wide community. Michaux’s pictures resemble ideogrammes, hieroglyphs and calligraphy writing, they occupy the energised field between writing and picture, poetry and drawing.
In the 1950s Michaux embarked on a series of controlled experiments with hallucinogens such as mescaline. He translated his experiences into poetry, drawings and paintings.

Asger Jorn was fascinated by the characters and symbols in Michaux’s work and donated a considerable number of his works to Museum Jorn, Silkeborg. On several occasions Jorn bought drawings by Michaux, which – in the 1950s – had not yet attracted much attention and were therefore affordable.

Language is the most useful set of symbols a human being has at his disposal if he wishes to communicate. But its very unambiguousness limits its artistic wealth of expression unlike, for example, that of music. Michaux has created tremendously musical poetry. But that has not been enough for him. He came up against one of the problems, which is perhaps the most intolerable problem of all in today’s culture. The limits of language dividing people. He made a conscious decision to cleanse his poetry by turning to the creation of a graphic poetry, a picture idiom, where letters or characters are not bound to concepts that risk limiting poetic flow.

The reason I choose to put so much emphasis on the “letters” or symbols that Henri Michaux has created, and find his work so fascinating is that – in my opinion – they reflect a very special form of humanism …
In Michaux’s humanism, man is artistic, Faustian, demonic‑divine, homo ludens, a great player, a human being who embraces all other human beings from the beginning of time, in the history of man, a human being who calls nothing “inhuman” that has been done, thought or said by humans – a human being who opens all doors. Michaux is an Odin.

This is why you could say that Michaux is perhaps also the most “popular” artist of our time. He is so all‑embracing, so inclusive, that you understand that there is no hard‑edged diamond to scratch the clear glass of his work. Everything he creates looks at if he is suffering from deadly tiredness, yet even his most casual line vibrates with the fullness of life. And that is self‑explanatory when you grasp his enormous perspective and scope.

Michaux never wanted to be photographed. For that reason there is no portrait of him here in the exhibition. He does not usually sign his painting or drawings, and if he does, his signature is literally just an illegible dot. Self‑effacing vis‑à‑vis the outside world he may be but he is the total and sovereign master of his work. Yes, I did it after all. I have fallen for the temptation, although I was not going to do it. Too bad. I was not going to put into words how much and how I value Michaux but I sort of did it anyway. He is an artist with his great oeuvre behind him, and a couple of words from me will make no difference. I suspect there are many who will tend to agree with me.