The Castle of the Pyrenees

I walk through the corridors of a castle in the mountains. The feeling is the same as if it was in the middle of nothing. The mountains are grey, the same colour as stone, the castle is built of. Narrow corridors open into small terraces paved with black and white tiles. I don't know why I'm there. I used to keep a journal into which I wrote about my dreams. This entry is from 28th September 1999. While reading this entry after so many years, I got the impression of the castle being in a way unreachable. You can't get in but you can't get out either. In those years I dreamt a lot about houses, castles, apartments, about wars fought there and all sorts of other events. I never kept note of interpretations of those dreams. As far as I can remember I never even tried to interpret them. I just wrote about them. Now I understand them, then I didn't. I just observed them as they were.

René Magritte never liked to interpret his paintings. In his opinion, the images must be seen such as they are. He painted impossible situations which cannot be seen in real life: a rock hovering above the sea, flying bread loaves, a huge apple filling the room ... He gave us the chance to see the object in a different way. The huge apple filling the room fills us with a sense of awe, while a small, ordinary one is just an everyday piece of fruit and as such taken for granted.

The Castle of the Pyrenees represents a combination of heaviness and lightness. The massive and the stony become flexible and light. Magritte shows an impossible situation in a solid and confident way. He paints with photographic precision, rendering his object believable. We can believe those situations really exist, these things really happen. It's like a parallel dream world, into which I can return. When I dream I usually know about being there before. I don't interpret, even though I know that by interpreting my dreams I would be given the opportunity to see myself in a different light.

 René Magritte, The Castle of the Pyrenees, 1959, oil on canvas, 145 × 200 cm, via: www.renemagritte.org

 René Magritte, Grad v Pirinejih, 1959, olje na platnu, 145 × 200 cm, vir: www.renemagritte.org

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Sprehajam se po gradu, ki je sredi gorovja, kot da bi bil sredi ničesar. Gorovje je sive barve, grad je grajen iz sivega kamna. Polen je ozkih hodnikov in majskih terasic, tlakovanih s črnimi in belimi ploščicami. Ne vem kaj sem tam počela. Nekoč sem pisala dnevnik, v katerega sem si zapisovala sanje. Ta zapis je z 28. 9. 1999. Vtis, ki sem ga dobila, ko sem po petnajstih letih brala zapis je bil, da na grad ne moreš priti, ravno tako kot z njega ne moreš oditi. Takrat sem veliko sanjala o hišah, gradovih, stanovanjih, o vojnah v teh prostorih, in vse sorte drugih stvari. Interpretacij sanj nikoli nisem beležila in kolikor se spomnim si jih nisem niti trudila interpretirati. Samo zapisovala sem si jih. Gledano s sedanjega zornega kota jih razumem. Takrat jih nisem. Samo ogledovala sem si jih take kot so bile.

René Magritte ni maral interpretirati svojih slik. Menil je, da jih je treba gledati take kot so. Objekte na slikah je postavljal v situacije, v katerih jih v resničnosti ne moremo videti: skala lebdi nad morjem, štruce kruha letijo po zraku, veliko jabolko zapolnjuje prostor ... Na ta način nam je dal možnost, da objekt pogledamo na novo, na drugačen način. Ogromno jabolko, ki zapolnjuje sobo vzbuja strahospoštovanje. Malo, navadno  jabolko je samoumevno, nič posebnega ni, morda celo zviška gledamo nanj. 

Grad v Pirenejih predstavlja kombinacijo teže in lahkotnosti - masivno in kamnito postane prožno in lahko. Magritte prikaže nemogočo situacijo na trden in soliden način. Ker je naslikana skoraj s fotografsko natančnostjo, verjamemo, da se v resnici dogaja. Kot vzporeden sanjski svet, kamor se lahko večkrat vrnem. Ko sanjam vem ali sem v tem sanjskem kraju že bila ali sem tam prvič. Ne interpretiram ga, če prav vem, da mi daje možnost, da samo sebe pogledam na drugačen način.