Yves Tanguy and Multiplication of the Arcs: Chapter 2: The Realm of Image.

NAGAO Takashi

    In this chapter, I describe the particularity of Tanguy's image compared to the visual images of Surrealism. Here I present a hypothesis concerning the visual images of Surrealism and by comparing it with that of Tanguy, I show the particularity of Tanguy’s images.

1. The Visual Images of Surrealism.

We cannot grasp the visual images of Surrealism based on an aspect of form. For example, while Dalí’s image is very three-dimentional, that of Miró is very flat. It is impossible to synthesize these images into one style from the point of view of form. William Rubin experimentally proposed the schema: “automatist – abstract” (Miró, Masson), “academic – illusionist” (Dalí, Magritte)[1]. This is, however, just a variation of the schema “figurative - abstract.”

Rosalind Krauss criticized this schema as a simple “List”. Referring to the photography, she claimed that we should grasp the visual images of Surrealism not from the aspect of form but from that of sign.

Surreality is, we could say, nature convulsed into a kind of writing. The special access that photography has to this experience is its privileged connection to the real. […] They are presentations of that very reality as configured, or coded, or written. […] what unites all surrealist production is precisely this experience of nature as representation, physical matter as writing. This is of course not a morphological coherence, but a semiological one[2].

The “nature convulsed into a kind of writing” is also expressed as the “reality constituted as sign[3]”. The practice of Surrealism consists of changing the reality into a sign which signifies something other than itself. In this sense, we can think of the visual images of Surrealism not from a formalist aspect (form, color, line) but from a semiotic aspect.

I also understand Surrealism from the semiotic aspect; The visual image is a construction consisting of signifiant and signifié[4].

As Krauss claims, the visual images of Surrealism refuse to resolve into formal elements (form, color) and they signify something other than themselves as signs. In other words, they refuse to unify signifiant and signifié by being resolved into formal elements. Of course the images of Dalí and Magritte refuse and in the images of Masson and Miró, which are not necessarily clear representations, some signifé, for example, “fish” or “man” are always present [fig.1, 2].

［fig.1］André Masson, The Battle of Fishes, 1926.

［fig.2］Joan Mitó, Painting (The Man and the Pipe), 1925.

In addition, Miró considers his image a kind of “idéogramme[5],” Masson considers his automatic dessin as a process through which some images arise from a “pure gesture[6].” Even Arp who has a strong orientation to abstract art says that the interpretation of the work was more important than the work itself in the 1920s[7].

Then what kinds of sign are in the visual images of Surrealism? An important critic of Surrealism, Roger Caillois says:

In these two cases [the literature and the painting of Surrealism], there are the image, nothing but the image, or the image above all; and which, poetically or visually, are experiments to surprise, to propose questions. In a word, they are images which are sign without assured or perceptible or fixed signification; images which would be pure premonitions.

Dans les deux cas, l’image et rien que l’image, ou l’image d’abord; et qui, poétique ou visuelle, cherche à surprendre, à interroger. En un mot, une image qui est signe sans signification assurrée ou perceptible ou univoque; une image qui serait avertissement pur[8].

According to Caillois, the signs in Surrealism are not that of general sense which are valuable to transmit information clearly. On the contrary, they are valuable when they do not have a certain or perceptible or fixed signification. In addition:

In other words, the priviledged given thing is not a sign because it transmit a message. It is promoted to sign because, deprived naturally or accidentally or squeezed deliberately of all conceivable signification, it seems to continue to demand another signification, as a result, become apt to be the support of an infinite  fantasy.

Autrement dit, la donnée privilégiée n’est pas signe parce qu’elle véhicule un message. Elle fut promue signe parce que, privée naturellement ou accidentellement ou essorée délibérément de toute signification concevable, elle semble continuer d’en exiger une et par conséquent se trouve apte à devenir le support d’une rêverie infinie[9].

Namely, the image as such a sign does not have fixed meaning and therefore it becomes possible to read various meanings (fantasy) “infinitely”. Caillois calls this “infinite” or “null” image[10].

And it is in this very point, that Caillois criticizes Surrealism. For Caillois, a classical thinker, the enigma and the mystery must be elucidated. There must be an answer. Therefore Caillois criticizes as intellectual negligence the attitude of Surrealism, creating the enigma without solution, the sign without certain signification.

On the other hand, the recent discussions about Surrealism tend to consider rather positively the particularity as sign which Caillois criticizes. According to Suzuki Masao, for example, the attitude of André Breton to the enigma is to “put an unknown and seducing sign in another context, maintaining its charge as enigma in order to observe what functions there.” It is “neither to leave the enigma intact nor to interpret it in its own context, but to make it work and function[11].” Suzuki says that this attitude of Breton is to “love” the object.

To love is not to understand but it is not the negation of relating, the silence. To relate in a way other than to interpret, to relate to make it work. Breton’s experiment to make the signs he met at the land of Hopi “myth” was, in this sense, to love. We must notice this fact afresh.

So Breton never rejected knowing much about the object, or in some cases even interpreting it. He only paid attention to the vector which dissolves the relation to the object into a known logic[12].

Caillois focused on the enigma in relation to the answer. Breton focused on the state of the enigma itself. That is to say, Caillois’ criticism comes from the difference in standpoints with Breton. In other words, the reflection of Caillois does not vary very much from the recent context of the research of Surrealism. According to Suzuki, the “enigma” in Surrealism should be “worked,” it should not be resolved into one solution. The visual images of Surrealism become “sign having no certain signification” because they become such an “enigma”.

We can see this trend in reseach on Surrealsm in the field of art history. Françoise Levaillant says about the titles written in André Masson’s drawing:

The titles inscribed at the base of the drawings have different functions: giving ― by definition ― a “legibility” to the image, or intensifying, on the contrary, its illegibility, or creating a text whose poetic quality intensifies in combination with the image […]

 To indicate the relation of the text to the image, this infinitely subtle net of sense, always in suspension, and always increasing through its author’s not pretend pleasure, “find a new word!”

Les titres inscrits en bas des dessins ont différentes fonctions: soit qu’il confèrent ―― par définition ―― une « lisibilité » à l’image, soit qu’ils renchérissent au contraire sur son illisibilité, soit enfin qu’il créent un texte dont la qualité poétique se renforce de sa combinaison avec une image […]

 Pour désigner cette relation du texte à l’image, ce réseau du sens infiniment subtil, toujours en suspens, et traversé de surcroît par la jubilation non feinte de son auteur, … « trouvons un nouveau mot »[13]!

The text of letters inscribed in the works is meant to allow “reading” the visual images. On the other hand, if the correspondence between the text and the visual images is unclear, “reading” becomes “impossible.” [fig.3]. Though “the infinitely subtle net of sense” shows the possibility of infinite interpretation, at the same time it shows the impossibility of interpretation; namely we can never find the final decision.

［fig.3］André Masson, Angry Suns, 1925.

The title ”SOLEILS FURIEUX (Angry Suns),” was actually pasted on under it is written: ”NUIT BLANCH (White Night), ” “9 AVRIL 1925 (9 April 1925)."

Miyashita Makoto presents the same point of view by adopting the receptive aesthetics for the images of Paul Klee and Max Ernst. Here the conflict between legibility and illegibility does not persist between image and title, for example:

In the case of Ernst, the “accord of discord” in the oil works, for example Elephant of Celebes, and in the collage. The “inserted reality” by frottage and the new relations of images made by that. The “controlled accident” occurs through the cooperation of the accident inserted on the canvas by decalcomania and dripping and the other images as the background of that.

All these were probably the “blank” set by the artist to make the work more ambiguous and more creative through the audiences’ active (creative) “intervention,” an indispensable opportunity for all the new ways of painting structure creation[14].

The “blank” is the concept from Wolfgang Iser[15]. Iser considers the many contradictions occuring between the storyteller and the characters and the sequences as the “blank”. Readers in front of these “blanks” try to fill in therein. That is to say, they try to give rational interpretions in order to read the contradictions of the text consistently. The story, however, finishes without giving ultimate solution to the readers. Readers intervene irresistibly in the progress of the story by trying to fill in the “blank.” Through this the work can become more and more ambiguous. Miyashita says here, the works of Max Ernst have the function of trigering the audiences to intervene in the progress of the work by filling in the contradictions among the images. As a result, many interpretations occur therein, such as Iser’s “blank.”

While Caillois criticizes it, in Levaillant and Miyashita’s points of view, the “infinite fantasy,” which occurs from the “sign without certain, perceptible or fixed signification” is a positive element of the work.

On the basis of hereinbefore, I provide the following as a hypothesis for the images of Surrealism: The images of Surrealism can be defined, as Krauss claimed, not by formalistic but semiologic consistency. This semiologic consistency is, according to Caillois, the “sign without certain, perceptible or fixed signification.” Here I tentatively call this kind of image “opaque image[16].” Through this “opaque image,” infinite significations occur, but these significations do not converge into one, sole meaning. I call this characteristic “infinite” structure, after Callois.

2. Yves Tanguy’s Images.

If we compare the images of Tanguy with those of other surrealists from the point of view of the “opaque image” and of “infinite” structure, what can be said?

2-1.

First, there are some differences in the mechanism through which an image becomes “opaque.”

The visual images of Surrealism become “opaque” as a whole through a “gap” between the signs. I explicate this through one of the most fundamental principles of Surrealism: the “dépaysement.” Here I consider dépaysement as a method of production, or a principle of creation.

The dépaysement, whose primary meaning is “deportation,” means to remove an object from its proper context and to place it in another. After the famous phrase of Lautréamont: “Beautiful like the chance meeting upon a dissecting table of a sewing-machine with an umbrella,” Ernst formulates the dépaysement and presents it as the most impotant procedure of Surrealism.

Thanks to studying enthusiastically the mechanism of inspiration, the surrealists have succeeded in discovering certain essentially poetic processes whereby the plastic work’s elaboration can be freed from the sway of the so-called conscious faculties. (…)

(…) I am inclined to say that it amounts to the exploiting of the fortuitous encounter upon a non-suitable plane of two mutually distant realities (this being a paraphrase and generalization of the celebrated Lautréamont quotation, “Beautiful like the chance meeting upon a dissecting table of a sewing-machine with an umbrella”) or, to use a more handy expression, the cultivation of the effects of a systematic putting out of place (…) [17].

Though the problem is “plastic work,” Ersnt refers to Latréamont’s quote, which is verbal expression. As such the system of dépaysement focuses not on formalistic aspect, form, color, etc., but on the semiological aspect of plastic work common to verbal expression. This is semiological coherence.

In the principle of dépaysement, the signs removed from their original context (a sewing-machine and an umbrella) are juxtaposed upon completely different contexts (dissecting table). The juxtaposed signs are mutually distant, and the context these signs are put in is a non-suitable plane. So among these signs necessarily occurs a “gap.” The signs which have lost their original contexts also lose their clear significations. On the other hand, by losing their original contexts or by being juxtaposed with other signs, they aqcuire the possibility for new significations. That is to say, “legibility” occurs. However, because of the “gap” among the juxtaposed signs or among the signs and their contexts, “illegibility” also occurs. The signs are put in a suspended state of “net of sense.” Alternatively, among the signs occurs a “blank.” There occurs an infinite possibility of interpretations but they never arrive at one clear answer. This is “infinite” structure. Namely the priciple of dépaysement creates the “opaque image.”

According to Ernst, ”Thanks to using, modifying and incidentally systematizing this process, nearly all the surrealists, painters as well as poets, have since its discovery been led from surprise to surprise[18].” Of course, it is impossible to attribute the visual images of Surrealism entirely to dépaysement. If we consider the dépaysement as a semiological principle, we can, however, relate almost all visual images of Surrealism to it. Typical examples are the collages by Ernst, or the images of Dalí and Magritte, wherein the objects are separated from their proper contexts. The photographs separate a part of reality by superposing a frame[19]. In the works of Masson and Miró, there is almost always some reference to reality. As such their works are not unrelated to the principle of dépaysement.

Alternatively, we can think of the works of Masson and Miró in another way. The discussion considering their works as “écriture” shows that in their images linguistic signs (letters) and pictorial signs (line, color, form) are intermixed[20]. That is to say, two different kinds of signs encounter each other upon the canvas. The “gap” occurs between the liguistic signs and the pictorial signs [fig.4, 5]. The same can be said of the frottage and the décalcomanie of Ernst. There, the “gap” occurs between the physical traces from the frottage and the décalcomanie and the resulting signs: a “bird” and a “forest” [fig.6, 7].

［fig.4］André Masson, Dessin for The Metaphor (1942).

［fig.5］Joan Miró, Painting (Sable), 1925.

［fig.6］Max Ernst, The Grand Forest, 1927.

［fig.7］Max Ernst, Marlène (woman and child), 1940-41.

On the other hand, the particularity of Tanguy’s images is the impossibility of the dépaysement mentioned above[21]. In Tanguy’s works after 1928, where the signs having references to reality had been replaced by the amorphous beings, the principle of dépaysement is impossible. Because Tanguy’s amorphous beings have no definite reference to reality, they are signs which cannot be named[22].

Concerning dépaysement, Ernst defines “the fortuitous encounter upon a non-suitable plane of two mutually distant realities.” In this definition, the “two realities” are “mutually distant,” so it must be clear what these realities are. Each sign must have definite references to reality.  In so doing, the “gap” among the signs or among the signs and contexts can be recognized, and images can become “opaque images” as a whole.

On the other hand, the amorphous beings in Tanguy’s images have no definite references to reality. Tanguy’s images are not real landscape. The amorphous beings (we can adress them only like this) arranged in this imaginal space are not real. Even if they resemble something real, ultimately they never have reference to reality. These “beings” could be, for example, pebble-like, ameba-like, bone-like, machine-like, or they could “seem soft” or “seem solid.” However, as they are images we cannot verify that they are indeed soft or solid[23].

Thus it is not through dépaysement that Tanguy’s images become “opaque.” The “gaps” among the signs do not occur in Tanguy’s images because the signs constructing them have no definite reference to reality. On the other hand, this means that Tanguy’s images themselves are “signs having no fixed significations.” While surrealist visual images become “opaque images” through a composite of the signs, Tanguy’s images are themselves already “opaque images.” This is the first particularity of Tanguy’s images.

2-2.

Another particularity of Tanguy’s images is in the “infinite” structure. In Tanguy’s images the principle of dépaysement is impossible. Critics, however, have identified various images in Tanguy’s works until now. How does “infinite” structure in Tanguy’s images occur?

The amorphous beings constructing Tanguy’s images have no definite reference to reality. We can also find this kind of image in those made by décalcomanie, excluding the works which transform the trace of décalcomanie into other images such as those of Max Ersnt, mentioned above.

［fig.8］Óscar Domínguez, [Untitled], 1937.

Décalcomanie is a kind of painting technique. First, a painted paper is placed on  another paper, and then, the second paper is stripped off, fixing the trace of paint. The images by décalcomanie themselves have no definite reference to reality [fig.8]. The images occuring here are formally very much “abstract.” These images, however, do not aim for physical reality as paint or medium. André Breton says that the décalcomanie should be added to the “secrets of surrealist magic,” and he adds:

To open the window on the most beautiful landscapes of this world and of others at will.

Pour ouvrir à volonté sa fenêtre sur les plus beaux paysages du monde et d’ailleurs

He considers the images made by décalcomanie, “windows,” and he says after this:

What you have before you is perhaps only the old paranoiac wall of da Vinci, but it is this wall that has been perfected.

Ce que vous avez devant vous n’est peut-être que le vieux mur paranoïaque de Vinci, mais c’est ce mur porté à sa perfection[24].

The “paranoiac wall of da Vinci” comes from Leonardo da Vinci’s painting lecture. By staring at formless objects like a stain on the wall, we can perceive various images there which could be materials of creation. That is to say, the images by décalcomanie prompt audiences to see various images through those formally “abstract” things.

Images made by décalcomanie are similar to Tanguy’s images, because they have no references to reality, and because audiences perceive various significations within[25].

However, they should not be considered exactly the same. Images by décalcomanie have no fixed signifié. On the other hand, Tanguy’s images are perfect representations of something. That is to say, Tanguy paints “beings” which cast shadows in the illusionary three-dimensional space. Thus these images have a fixed signifié. This property of Tanguy’s images’ is a decisive departure from images of décalcomanie.

This difference regulates the conditions of “infinite” structure of both styles. The images by décalcomanie do not have a fixed signifié because they occur by chance. It might even be said that the signifié is the physical trace itself. However, when we consider them as “windows,” the forthcoming images, in theory, have no limitation; as there is no fixed signifié from the beginning, their interpretations have no limitation and each interpretation is equally valid.

The images by décalcomanie essentialy have only the level of physical traces as reality. However, while Tanguy’s images also have an agglomeration of paint and brush traces as physical reality, there is another level. It is that of illusion created by smooth brushing and by excluding physical traces as much as possible. Rather than physical traces,Tanguy’s images are better defined as three dimensional illusions. In this sense, Tanguy’s images have fixed signifié differing from décalcomanie.

Tanguy’s images have no definite reference to reality; though they have some fixed signifié, it is impossible to identify them. Due to this property, various interpretations have been made until now [see chapter I]. However, this very property renders it impossible for these interpretations to arrive at an essential signifié. In the case of décalcomanie, because there is no fixed signifié, all interpretations are equally valid. In the case of Tanguy’s images, unless we can identify “beings” as their fixed signifié, the act of interpretation is essentially nonsense. The very act of interpretation is  nullified. Regardless of this, Tanguy’s images are decidedly illusionistic. However unlike typical illusionism they cannot be considered an abstraction of a specific object.

This property of nullifying interpretation is another particularity of Tanguy’s images. The surrealist visual images have “infinite” structure. These images are suspended between legibility and illegibility but they do not nullify interpretation. According to Levaillant and Miyashita, they actually stimulate it. Tanguy’s images also stimulate audience interpretation. However, in contrast with “infinite” structure, because Tanguy’s images have no definite references to reality, and because they are perfect representations with three dimensional illusion, they ultimately nullify the acts of interpretation.

2-3.

Tanguy’s images nullify interpretation. Therefore the problem of titulation, which is at the border between the inside and the outside of any work, arises. He scarcely spoke of his works. There is no text in his works except for his signature, date, and names of persons to whom he dedicated the works. Only words related to Tanguy’s images are titles.

Caillois says that because semiologic aspect is important in surrealist paintings, titles have “extraordinary importance” and “thus those titles are not simple titles but lexical equivalents of painted works[26].”

This claim, however, does not necessarily apply to Tanguy’s works. The catalogue raisonné edited by Kay Sage and Pierre Matisse[27] includes the data of 463 works. Of those 139 have no titles and among those 75 works are untitled, 63 are unknown, and one is titled “untitled.” That is to say, about a quarter of his works have no title. According to Gordon Onslow-Ford[28], most of Tanguy’s works are titled by his friends. Furthermore, in accordance with the discussions above, because Tanguy’s images have no definite reference to reality, images and titles do not coincide.

It is not evident from his words how Tanguy thinks of his titles. There is, however, a suggestive fact concerning this problem. On his first solo exhibition, Tanguy, together with Breton, took his works’ titles from a book concerning psychical research (concerning this problem, see also chapter V). At a 1946 interview, Tanguy says:

I remember spending a whole afternoon with him before the catalogue went to press searching through books on psychiatry for statements of patients which we could use as titles for the paintings. The Museum’s painting Mama, Papa is Wounded! was one of them[29].

Concerning this fact, Jennifer Mundy has provided further details[30]. The book in question was Introduction to the metapsycology[31], written by Charles Richet, who was an authority on psychical research. This book concerns wide paranormal phenomena: telepathy, premonition, levitation, ectoplasm etc.. Tanguy and Breton borrowed 13 titles and one subtitle for all the exhibited works[32]. Specifically, most are from the chapter on monition.

According to Mundy, these titles are not chosen randomly because there are similarities between the titles and images. For example, Mama, Papa is Wounded! (1927) [fig.9], refered to by Tanguy in his interview above, is taken from the following story of premonition. At the very time his father was wounded, suddenly the son woke up and said “mama, papa was wounded, but he is not dead (Maman, papa est blessé, mais il n’est pas mort)[33].”

［fig.9］Yves Tanguy, Mama, Papa is Wounded!, 1927.

Concerning this, Mundy says:

The title leads the reading of the forms: in the foreground a large phallic shape bleeds billows of a dark substance while near the horizon stands a rounded, (maternal?) form, surrounded by smaller, satellite objects [...]. Clearly it would make the oddest of families, […][34]

That is to say, the object in the foreground is the bleeding father, and the objects near the horizon are his familiy.

Tanguy took his works’ titles from another source also. What does this mean? Mundy considers these titles as what awake audiences’ creative interpretations[35]. By taking his titles from a book concerning psychical research, another level of context is added to his works. Thus it becomes possible to “read” Tanguy’s work. Legibility occurs here.

On the other hand, because Tanguy’s images have no definite reference to reality, latent “illegibility” is always there. Even if the context is clear like this case, it is not necessarily clear how to connect it to the image. For example, in the case of Mama, Papa is Wounded!, it is possible to think of several combinations of father, mother and children. That is to say, the titles here functions to add to the images an aspect of “legibility / illegibility.”

Is it possible to apply this point of view to all Tanguy’s works? Unlike images, titles consist of words and therefore contribute to an aspect of legibility by nature. Generally titles are considered to correspond to the image directly. For example, a work titled “cat” represents a cat. Tanguy’s images, however, have no definite reference to reality. Therefore the titles and the images do not correspond clearly. There is already latent “illegibility.” By being titled, this latent “illegibility” becomes overt. Like this the aspect of “legibility / illegibility” occurs. The titles of Tanguy’s works serve to add an aspect of “legibility / illegibility[36].”

2-4.

The aspect of “legibility / illegibility” occurs by being titled. This gives at least a possibility for “reading” Tanguy’s images. When we take, however, the problem of transition of Tanguy’s works into consideration, this aspect may also be nullified.

 From 1926 to 1927, in Tanguy’s works amorphous beings replace signs having references to reality. Though during the 1920s, the space and the forms of the beings and their shadows are sometimes ambiguous, in the early 1930s after his trip to Africa, Tanguy’s style is established. After that, while he did continue to elaborate his technique, his basic style does not change. The structure where amorphous beings with no references to reality are arranged before vast space, applies to almost all Tanguy’s works after 1928.

Tanguy’s images do change gradually but this is not a change of style but of the state of motifs. The change in Tanguy’s images is the change of the state of amorphous beings as main motifs.

The amorphous beings appear for the first time in The Storm (Black Landscape) (1926) or Dark Moon (1926). From 1926 to 1927, Tanguy paints the amorphous being and signs having references to reality at the same time. In 1928 Tanguy’s works are overtaken by the amorphous beings. During the 1920s, the amorphous beings show  forms like amoebae which are sparse and tend to be floating in the air. After his trip to Africa in 1930, the space gradually becomes transparent, and the beings come to have fixed contours and assemble in the forefront of the canvas. In the 1940s, the beings grow bigger with respect to the canvas, and take on more complex forms. They ressemble solid mineral or machine. From the mid-1940s, signs of propagation and spawning can be seen. In the 1950s, the beings become bigger and bigger, more and more complex and propagate and spawn more and more. This transition climaxes with Multiplication of the Arcs, and then comes Tanguy’s last work, Imaginary Numbers (1954).

Tanguy’s body of works includes three characteristics: “continuity,” “consistency,” and “autonomy.” “Continuity” means that Tanguy continued to paint the same amorphous beings in the unchanged style. “Consistency” means that these beings gradually become bigger, and more complex, and they propagate more and more. That is to say, they consistently progress toward an extreme state. What’s more, this consistency gives the impression that the images change by their own will, suggesting an “autonomy” of the works.

The continuity, consistency and autonomy in transition within Tanguy’s works are sometimes regarded as monotonous, but we can consider them as the characteristic point of Tanguy’s images. They also nullify each image’s meaning.

 Tanguy painted similar images repeatedly. This continuity and the consistency, in which the works transition toward an extreme state as a whole, gives an evergrowing impression of continuity and similarity. That is to say, these characteristics sugggest that the works do not resemble each other by chance but because they are in the same current. Thus each work is determined by this current and is entirely independent from its title.

As such the titles function to distinguish one work from another[37]. Normally, a work is connected to its title through its individuality. However, if one work resembles another, the purpose of an individual title is compromised. In Tanguy’s works, due to this  continuity (similarity) emphasized by consistency of transition, and due to the autonomy found therein, the connection between title and image becomes weak. The more Tanguy paints the works along this current of continuity, of consistency, of autonomy, the freer the images become from the titles. Hence, Tanguy’s titles become “something like an ID number for the works[38],” losing individual meaning to an extreme degree.

［fig.10］Pablo Picasso, Crucifixion, 1932.

Furthermore, this operation weakens not only the meaning of titles but also that of image itself. For example, though Crucifixion of Picasso [fig.10] resembles Tanguy’s image very much, we can conclude this work depicts the scene of crucifixion. Tentatively, this is possible with just its title. However, strictly speaking, we also need to know its background; Picasso is a painter who basically paints real things, most works of Picasso have realistic titles, there are other works which depict the scene of crucifixion more realistically etc.. No difference between Picasso and Tanguy’s work could be determined solely by the title “crucifixion.” The title may have no relation to the actual image; it may simply function to add to a work an aspect of “legibility / illegibility” like the case of Tanguy. Here, however, we accept Picasso’s title crucifixion as-is after judging collectively from Picasso’s other works. That is to say, if an image of a work is not clear, by comparing it to other works of the same painter, it becomes possible to read that image.

In the case of Tanguy, however, comparing one work to another doesn’t offer much insight. This is because, following 1928, Tanguy’s works have no definite reference to reality. It is no use to compare one unknown thing to another. In the case of Picasso, the fact that almost all his other works depict real things, and that the title “crucifixion” is based on the general image of crucifixion are clear, makes comparison  effective. In the case of Tanguy’s images, due to their “continuity,” they resemble each other very much. Therefore the act of comparison is inefffective.

The continuity of Tanguy’s works also functions to nullify  interpretation. Tanguy’s images are rendered autonomous by their consistent continuity. Through consistent transition by repeating similar images, Tanguy’s images are freed from the titles and their meanings behind the work are diminished[39].

3. The Realm of Image

I have shown the particularity of Yves Tanguy’s images by comparing them to surrealist visual images. Finally, based on the above, I suggest Tanguy’s place relative to the surrealist visual images.

 Tanguy’s images are “opaque images,” because the elements composing them have no definite reference to reality and their nature nullifies interpretation. These particularities can be described as an attempt to escape from words entirely. This is different from other surrealist visual images, which always keep their connection to words.

Plastic practices of surrealism always maintained their relation to words. Ernst’s “collage roman,” letter signs in Masson’s and Miró’s works, images and words in Magritte’s works, images of Dalí and, subsidiary to them, his texts, the objects functioning by their creator’s desire. The priciple of dépaysement was a paraphrase of Lautréamont’s line. The point of view of “legibility / illegibility” and “blank” suggest that interpretations are indispensable to the generation of works.

 On the other hand, Tanguy’s images reject the invasion of words into their realm.　Even titles exist only minimaly at their very edge, with only the image truly present within the proper realm. This realm of image is irresolvable other than to image itself. Let’s remember Caillois’s words: “there are the image, nothing but the image, or the image above all.”

If we think of the place of Tanguy’s realm in surrealism, the words of Caillois are suggestive. André Breton’s words below offer an answer for this question for the time being:

[…] without any immediate equivalent in nature, and which, it must be pointed out, have not to this day yielded to any valid interpretation.

 But first let us make short shrift of all equivocation and say clearly that we are with these beings not in the regions of abstraction but in the very heart of the concrete[40].

Tanguy’s region is “in the very heart of the concrete[41].”

What is the “heart of the concrete” according to Breton? Suzuki Masao has raised “concrete” as a keyword to summarize the surrealist paintings[42]. According to Suzuki, this word is paired with the word “objective” for Breton in the 1930s. Alternatively it is used as “concrete irrationality” by Dalí or as “concrete art” by Arp. Suzuki considers this “concrete” thing to be “unnamed” or “the thing which cannot acquire stable identity.”

If we interpret this word from the discussion above, “the concrete” means image irresolvable other than to image itself. Though it clearly exists, it is impossible to name. It cannot become a concrete concept, nor does it stay at the level of material. That is the “concrete” thing, and its “heart,” that is to say, its extreme form is Tanguy’s image.

From this point of view, we can reconceptualize the surrealist visual image that which occurs from the “gaps” among signs, in the principle of dépaysement, is this “concrete” thing. The sign loses “assured or perceptible or fixed signification”; this means losing name and identity. Thus the image cannot be exchanged with words as a whole (I have called this “opaque image”), but appears as a “concrete” thing. The interpretations which occur from “gaps” among the signs appear as possibilities to audiences. These possibilities (or impossibilities) which have not become texts yet are the “concrete” thing.

While the surrealist visual images become a “concrete” thing through the medium of words, Tanguy’s images become a “concrete” thing in themselves. Therefore they themselves are the “heart” of “concrete” things. Thus Tanguy’s images can be considered an extreme form of surrealist visual image. Breton applauded Tanguy not only because he was faithful to Breton but also because he saw a “heart” of surrealism in Tanguy.

Furthermore, if we consider Tanguy’s images as an extreme form of surrealist visual image, the vector of the surrealist visual image becomes clear. Tanguy’s images are irresolvable other than to images themselves. That is to say, the “concrete” thing Breton refers to is what turns to image decisively. What becomes clear by placing Tanguy’s images in the context of surrealist visual images is this realm of image[43].

＊

Tanguy’s images attempt a complete escape from words. I call this orientation toward inexchangeability with words, “silence.” Thus we can understand Tanguy’s thorough refusal to talk about his own works to be consistent with his image’s character. In a letter to a critic, Tanguy says:

I understand and find your questions very thoughtful unfortunately it is absolutely impossible for me to respond. Please believe me that I mean no ill will; but I cannot, nor, consequently, want to try to give a definition, even a simple one, to what I paint. If I did try, I would risk very much closing myself in a definition that would later become like a prison for me.

Je comprends et trouve très sensées vos questions malheureusement il m’est absolument impossible d’y répondre. Croyez bien que ce n’est pas de ma part de la mauvaise volonté; mais je ne peux, ni par conséquent ne veux essayer de donner une définition, aussi simple soit elle, de ce que je peint. Si je tentais de la faire je risquérais à tout jamais m’enfermer dans une definition qui ne tarderai (sic.) pas à devenir pour moi comme une prison[44].

We can find the same claim in a questionnaire done one year before his death.

And, to finish, should I seek the reasons for my painting, I would feel that it would be a self-imprisonment[45].

We can also observe Tanguy’s attitude to reject words from testimonies of his friends.

[…] Yves Tanguy refrains from making any statement concerning the ends he proposes to realize, reveals not one of his designs and is too disdainful to give the lie to those attributed to him […] [46]. (André Breton)

Yves Tanguy was taciturn. He never spoke of his painting, contrary to his contemporaries who eagerly tried to inform us about their “research” or their “experiences.” (André Thirion)

Yves Tanguy était taciturne. Il ne parlait jamais de sa peinture au rebours des contemporains tellement soucieux de nous mettre au courant de leurs « recherches » ou de leurs « experiences »[47].

Concerning his works, as well as himself, Tanguy did not speak. When one attempted a reflexion on his tableaux, at most he consented with a smile to show that he did not disapprove. (Patrick Waldberg)

De cette œuvre, pas plus que de lui-même, Tanguy ne parlait. Lorsqu’il arrivait que l’on fît une réflexion sur tel de ses tableaux, tout au plus consentait-il à sourire pour montrer qu’il ne désapprouvait pas[48].

Throughout the twenty year exchange of letters with his friend, Marcel Jean, Tanguy hardly spoke of his works.

This attitude of Tanguy is exceptional both as a twentieth century painter and as a surrealist painter. Typical surrealist artists, for example, Ernst, Masson, Arp, Miró, Magritte, Dalí, Giacometti, and Matta, spoke much of their art in the form of writing or interview. Even Kay Sage, as a partner of Tanguy, who maintained silence, wrote poems and an autobiographical text titled China Egg[49]. On the other hand, Tanguy published only two pieces of writing, “Weights and Colors” (1931) and “Life of Object” (1933) in Surrealism au service de la révolution. Aside from these there were only a few questionnaires and interviews. This is much less than those of the painters mentioned above.

Tanguy did not seem to consider himself suited to write. When Macel Jean asked Tanguy to write a foreword of his exhibition. Tanguy answered:

It is a grand proof of friendship to ask me to write a short presentation for you. But sadly, I consider myself completely incompetent in this field. So don’t think badly if I refuse this honor.

C’est une bien grande preuve d’amitié de me demander d’écrire une petite présentation pour toi. Hélas, je me sens parfaitement nul dans ce domaine. Ne m’en veux donc pas si je refuse platement cet honneur[50].

We should not, however, assume Tanguy’s silence to be simply an issue of character or as outward posture. Following the point of this chapter, Tanguy’s images themselves are oriented to inexchangeability with words, to silence. A few critics made reference to this point.

Since the very early years of his career, however, Tanguy’s subjects have never referred directly to outer appearances. They have referred to uncharted realms of the imagination, where we are stirred by shapes we cannot hail or dismiss by name[51]. (James Thrall Soby)

To my eyes the tableau is always speaking and but always it remains mute: […] This contradiction between an immediate adhesion of mind and the sensation of a definitive exclusion, I found it each time I saw the work of Tanguy, though facing it words seem to me heavier and more awkward than ever. (Jean-Chiristophe Bailly)

À mes yeux le tableau parle toujours et toujours il reste muet: […] Cette contradiction entre une adhésion immédiate de l’esprit et le sentiment d’une exclusion définitive, je la retrouvai à chaque nouvelle rencontre avec l’œuvre de Tanguy, si bien que face à elle les mots me semblent plus lourds et plus maladroits que jamais[52].

I have always had the impression, with Tanguy, that I was in a dream, a book whose words, though familiar to me, were indecipherable. Where did the sense go? (Yves Bonnefoy)

J’ai toujours eu l’impression, avec Tanguy, d’être en rêve, devant un livre dont les mots me seraient, bien que familiers, indéchiffrables. Où est passé le sens? [53]

What anyone feels before the works of Yves Tanguy is a strange silence which cannot be compared to any other artist and of which no one can know how to speak of. Though we can think of Dalí or of Chirico or sometimes of Miró, or even, the still life of the Baroque era, Tanguy’s works have a silence which these paintings do not. It is this silence which we cannot help questioning; Why does such a thing happen? […]

There is no other painting wihich makes us feel the unspeakable sensation “there is nothing” to this extent.

The sensation that there is nothing to say from the start, the sensation that there was nothing to say, there is nothing to say, there will be nothing to say, before and now and after, and the sensation that even we who should say something are not there, these sensations are present[54]. (Nibuya Takashi)

In this chapter, I have suggested Tanguy’s particularity as orientation to inexchangeability to words, silence. After this chapter, I examine from several points of view to what historical contexts this particularity belongs. To start, in the next chapter, I consider Giorgio de Chirico’s theory of metaphysical painting as an origin for Tanguy’s silence.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿

Abbreviations:

• Arp (1958): Jean Arp, “Looking,” in: James Thrall Soby (ed.), Arp (exh.cat.), The Museum of Modern Art, 1958, pp.12-16.
• Breton (1965): André Breton, Le surréalisme et la peinture, Gallimard, Paris, 1965.
• Breuning (1945): Margaret Breuning, “Surrealist Disillusion of Yves Tanguy,” in: Art Digest, vol.19, New York, 15 May 1945, p.9.
• Brion (1961): Marcel Brion, Art fantastique, Albin Michel, Paris, 1961.
• Caillois (1974): Roger Caillois, “L’univers des signes,” in: XX^esiècle, vol.36, no.42, Paris, Juin 1974, unpagenated, reprinted in; Obliques précédé de images, images…, Stock, Paris, 1975.
• Jung (1958): Carl Gustav Jung, Ein Moderner Mythus, von Dingen, die am Himmel gesehen werden, Rascher Verlag, 1958.
• Krauss (1981): Rosalind Krauss, “The Photographic Conditions of Surrealism,” in: October, no.19, Winter 1981, pp.3-34, reprinted in; Rosalind Krauss, The Originality of the Avant-Garde and Other Modernist Myths, The MIT Press, 1985.
• Levaillant (1991): Françoise Levaillant, “Lisivilité vs illisibilité: dessins d’André Masson au début des années 20,” in: L’art, effacement et surgissement des figures. Hommage à Marc Le Bot, Publication de la Sorbonne, Paris, 1991, pp.87-105.
• Masson (1994): André Masson, Françoise Levaillant (ed.), Le rebelle du surréalisme. Écrits, Hermann, 1994.
• Matisse (1963): Pierre Matisse, Kay Sage (eds.), Yves Tanguy: Un recueil de ses œuvres / A Summary of His Works, Pierre Matisse, New York, 1963.
• Maur (2001): Karin von Maur (ed.), Yves Tanguy und der Surrealismus (exh.cat.), Staatsgalerie Stuttgart, Hatje Canz, Ostfildern-Ruit, 2000; John Brownjohn, John S. Southard (tr.), Yves Tanguy and Surrealism (exh.cat.), The Menil Collection (Houston), Hatje Canz, Ostfildern-Ruit, 2001.
• Miró (1977): Joan Miró, Georges Raillard, Ceci est la couleur des mes rêves, Seuil, Paris, 1977.
• Mundy (1983): Jennifer Mundy, ”Tanguy, Titles and Mediums,” in: Art History, vol.6, no.2, June 1983, pp.199-213.
• Rétrospective (1982): Yves Tanguy: Rétrospective 1925-1955 (exh.cat.), Centre Geoges Pompidou, Paris, 1982.
• Richet (1922): Charles Richet, Traité de métapsychique, Félix Alcan, Paris, 1922.
• Rubin (1966): William Rubin, “Toward a Critical Framework,” in: Artforum, vol.5, no.1, September 1966, pp.36-55.
• Sage (1996): Kay Sage, Elisabeth Manuel (tr.), Judith Suther (ed.), China Eggs / Les Oeufs de Porcelaine, Bilingual ed., Starbooks / L’étoile, 1996.
• Schmidt (1982): Katharina Schmidt (ed.), Yves Tanguy (exh.cat.), Staatliche Kunsthalle Baden-Baden, Prestel-Verlag, München, 1982.
• Soby (1949): James Thrall Soby, “Inland in the Subconscious: Yves Tanguy,” in: Magazine of Art, vol.42, New York, January 1949, pp.2-7.
• Sweeny (1946): James Johnson Sweeny, “Interview with Yves Tanguy,” in: The Museum of Modern Art Bulletin, vol.13, nos.4-5, The Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1946, pp.22-23.
• Tanguy (1954): “The Creative Process,” in: Art Digest, vol.28, no.8, New York, 15 January 1954, pp.14-16.
• Tanguy (1993): Yves Tanguy, Lettres de loin: Adressées à Marcel Jean, Le Dilettante, Paris, 1993.
• View (1942): View, vol.2, no.2 [Special Double Number: “Tanguy-Tchelitchew”], New York, May 1942, unpagenated.
• Waldberg (1977): Patrick Waldberg, Yves Tanguy, André de Rache, Bruxelle, 1977.

Notes

[1] Rubin (1966), pp.36-37. Rubin says the “poetry” of the images of Tanguy is different from both of two currents. Rubin (1968), p.102. There is also the point of view considering Tanguy’s images as a synthesization of these two currents. David Sylvester, “Yves Tanguy,” in: Art News and Review, vol.2, no.9, London, 3 June 1950, pp.5-6, cited in: Rétrospective (1982), p.226; John Ashbery, “Tanguy: Geometer of Dreams,” in: Yves Tanguy (exh.cat.), Acquavella Galleries, New York, 1974, unpagenated.

[2] Krauss (1981), pp.29-31.

[3] Ibid., p.28.

[4] The segmentation itself by semiotic concepts is not the purpose of this thesis. For the time being, it is useful to limit the segmentation, signifiant and signifié, so as not to complicate the discussion.

[5] “Nothing abstract… / Not at all! It’s not at all abstract! (…) / An ideogram, rather than an idea. / Yes, it is, an ideogram, it’s exact.” Miró (1977), p.72.

[6] “The automatic drawing taking its source in the unconscious, must appear like an unforeseeable nativity. The first graphic apparition on the paper is pure gesture, rhythm, incantation, and as a result: pure graffiti. It is the first phase.

In the second phase, the image (which was latent) claims its rights. When the image appears, we must stop. This image is only a vestige, a trace, a ruin. Needless to say, a stop between these two phases must be avoided. If there were a pause, the first result would be absolutely abstract, and the insistence in the second phase would be surrealistically academic! This state, I don’t know sure means to provoke it. It’s a little like grace, in theology.” André Masson, “Propos sur le surréalisme,” in: Médiations, no.3, autumn 1961, reprinted in: Masson (1994), p.37.

[7] “In 1925 I exhibited at the first surrealist group show and contributed to their magazines. They encouraged me to ferret out the dream, the idea behind my plastic work, to give it a name. For many years, roughly from the end of 1919 to 1931, I interpreted most of works. Often the interpretation was more important for me than the work itself.” Arp (1958), p.14.,

[8] Caillois (1974), unpagenated.

[9] Ibid..

[10] Roger Caillois, Au cœur du fantastique, Gallimard, Paris, 1965, p.45.

[11] 鈴木雅雄「ギヴ・ミー・ユア・ブック ―― ブルトンとホピ・インディアンの出会いに関する覚書」、鈴木雅雄、真島一郎編『文化解体の想像力 シュルレアリスムと人類学的思考の近代』人文書院、二〇〇〇年、pp.298-299（Suzuki Masao, “Give Me Your Book: Note sur la rencontre entre Breton et indients d’hopi,” in: Suzuki Masao and Majima Ichiro (ed.) L’imagination de démontage culturel: Le modernité du surréalism et d’une pensée anthropologique, Jinbun-syoin, 2000, pp.298-299）.

[12] Ibid., pp.299-300.

[13] Levaillant (1991), pp.104-105.

[14] 宮下誠「マックス・エルンストと受容美学」『逸脱する絵画』法律文化社、二〇〇二年、p.299（Miyashita Makoto, “Max Ernst and the Reception Aesthetics” in: Deviating Painting, Houritsu-bunka-sya, 2002, p.299）.

[15] Wolfgang Iser, Der Akt des lesens, Theorie ästhetischer Wirkung, Wilhelm Fink Verlag, 1976.

[16] Simply I use this word in the nuance that the meaning of that image is unclear.

[17] Max Ernst, “Inspiration to Order,” in; This Quarter, vol.5, no.1, September 1932 (Surrealist Number), pp.79-80.

[18] Ibid., p.80.

[19] Krauss (1981), pp.31-34.

[20] Rosalind Krauss, “Magnetic Fields: The Structure,” in: Rosalind Krauss, Margit Rowell (eds.), Joan Miró; Magnetic Fields (exh.cat.), Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation, New York, 1972, pp.11-38.

[21] Caillois says concerning Tanguy’s images “It only dépayse（Elle dépayse seulement）.” I think this remark is concerning dépaysement’s sensative effect. Caillois (1974), unpagenated.

[22] Some critics pointed out that Tanguy’s images avoid conventional symbolism by having no reference to reality. James J. Sweeney, “Iconographer of Melancoly,” in: View (1942), unpagenated; Breuning (1945); Robert Lebel, “La morphologie conjuratoire de Tanguy,” in: Rétrospective (1982), p.34. Of course there are some exceptions in his drawing works; sometimes human eyes or mouths appear.

[23] Some critics pointed out that there is no surrealist juxtaposition in Tanguy’s images. Breuning (1945); Nicolas Calas, “Magic Icons,” in: Horizon, no.83, London, November 1946, p.311.

[24] André Breton, “D’une decalcomanie sans objet préconçu (Décalcomanie du désir),” in: Minotaure, no.8, Albert Skira, Paris, juin 1936, p.18, reprinted in: Breton (1965), p.129.

[25] Décalcomanie is a kind of Rorschach test. Carl Gustav Jung compares Tanguy’s image with it. Jung (1958), pp.102-108.

[26] Caillois (1974), unpagenated.

[27] Matisse (1963).

[28] Gordon Onslow-Ford, “Yves Tanguy and the New Subject in Painting,” in: Maur (2001), p.201.

[29] Sweeny (1946), p.23.

[30] Mundy (1983).

[31] Richet (1922).

[32] The titles cited are below (these are not necessarily exact citations of Richet’s book). ”Tous ces détails étaient exactes,” “Maman, papa est blessé,” “Mort guettant sa famille,” “Il faisait ce qu’il voulait,” “Vite! Vite!..,” “Je suis venu comme j’avais promis. Adieu,” “Finissez ce que j’ai commencé,””Fumier à gauche, violettes à droite,” ”Elberfeld,” “Le 4 juin je ne vois plus,” “Leur ventre blanc m’avait frappé,” “Je m’en vais, venez-vous?,” “La lueur ressemblance,” Subtitle is ”Quand on me fusillera.”The actual works are not identified other than from first to 8th titles.

[33] Richet (1922), p.339.

[34] Mundy (1983), p.203.

[35] Ibid., p.206.

[36] Of course, there could be other ways. 1. titling realistically; for example, to describe the beings painted concretely like this “red and white and green beings that seem to be soft, standing at the right of the canvas and their shadows,” or only the number of order of the work, or only the date. 2. clarifying the source of the painting, if it exists; for example, “the seashore of Bretagne.” 3. naming the amorphous beings clearly.

In the case of 1, an interpretation at the level of title is impossible. In the case of 2, because the title and the image correspond to each other, the aspect of “legibility / illegibility” does not occur. In the case of 3, the title and the image again correspond to each other but there is a possibility of interpretation concerning its name. However Tanguy did not choose any of these; he continued to use titles as a device to add the aspect of “legibility / illegibility,” namely “infinite” structure with the possible exception of Multiplication of the Arcs mentioned in the introduction.

Alternatively, according to Matthews, the titles of Tanguy’s works could be interpretations of Tanguy himself applied to the painted images. In this case, Tanguy gives one example of interpretation, though it is not absolute. John H. Matthews, “Yves Tanguy,” in: Eight Painters, the Surrealist Context, Syracuse University Press, Syracuse, 1982, pp.73-74.

[37] 佐々木健一『タイトルの魔力』中央公論新社、二〇〇一年、p.146, 238（Sasaki Ken-ichi, The Magic of Title, Tyuou-kouron-shin-sya, 2001, p.146, 238）.

[38] Brion (1961), p.178.

[39] Of course, it is possible to consider that these works’ transition constructs a meaning. For example, “the generation of a world.” Brion (1961) pp.171-184; 澁澤龍彦「混沌から生成へ タンギーの世界」『幻想の画廊から』青土社、一九七九年、pp.44-51（Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, “From Chaos to Generation: The World of Tanguy,” in: From Fantastic Gallery, Seido-sya, 1979, pp.44-51）. There is also an attempt to connect the particularities of the works’ transition to literature. Marianne Kesting, “Erschaffung, Verwandlung und das Ende der Welt. Literarische Parallelen zum Werk Yves Tanguys” in: Schmidt (1982), p.79-91. Likewise, this thesis although deals with Tanguy’s works as a continuity. However, it does not attempts to equate this continuity to a story.

[40] André Breton, Rionel Abel (tr.), “What Tanguy Veils and Reveals” in: View (1942), unpagenated, reprinted in: Breton (1965), p.179.

[41] The word “concrète” had already appeared in Breton’s foreword on the occasion of Tanguy’s first solo exhibition in 1927. André Breton, “Yves Tanguy,” in: Yves Tanguy et objets d’Amérique (exh.cat.), Galerie surréaliste, Paris, 1927 reprinted in: Breton (1965), p.44.

[42] 鈴木雅雄「訳者あとがき ―― シュルレアリスムにとってサルバドール・ダリとは誰か」、サルバドール・ダリ著、鈴木雅雄訳『ミレー《晩鐘》の悲劇的神話 「パラノイア的＝批判的」解釈』人文書院、二〇〇三年、pp.260-262（Suzuki Masao, “Postscript by translator: Who is Salvador Dalí for Surrealisme,” Salvador Dalí, trad.Suzuki Masao, Le mythe tragique de l’angelus de Millet: Interprétation « paranoïaque-critique », Jinbun-syoin, 2002, pp.260-262）. Suzuki also attempts to grasp visual images of surrealism through the point of view of “figure” or of “character.” 鈴木雅雄、林道郎「往復書簡 シュルレアリスム美術をどう語るか」『水声通信』二三号、二〇〇八年三／四月、pp.34-56（Suzuki Masao and Hyashi Michio, “Correspondence: How Do We Relate Concerning Surrealist Visual Art,” in: Suisei-tsushin, no.23, March-April 2008, pp.34-56）; 鈴木雅雄「「絵」と「記号」のあいだ 「図」としてのシュルレアリスム美術」『水声通信』二五号、二〇〇八年七／八月、pp.40-52（Suzuki Masao, “Between ‘Painting’ and ‘Sign’: Surrealist Art as ‘Figure’,” Suisei-tsushin, no.25, July-August 2008, pp.40-52）; 鈴木雅雄「ロプロプは何を紹介するのか シュルレアリスムと「キャラクター」の問題」『水声通信』二七号、二〇〇八年一一／一二月、pp.36-45（Suzuki Masao, “What Loplop Introduces?: The Problem of Surrealism and Character,” Suisei-tsushin, no.27, November-December 2008, pp.36-45）.

[43] In this thesis, what is called “the realm of image” is what is left. If we subtract it from a visual image the parts of physical existence and the elements exchangeable with words. The purpose of this thesis is not to name this element exactly or to make it an exact concept, but to point it out. As philosophical discussions concerning image, for example, I can mention that of Bergson. He considers image as the being between thing and representation, and he considers physical matter as integral to images, in the 7th edition (1911) of Matter and Memory (1896). Though the object of recognition is image, it is image existing as real thing in itself. Therefore he always considers image not as an abstract thing but as a concrete thing.

[44] Letter to Emily Genauer, 20 June 1947, coll. Archives of American Art, New York, cited in: Mundy (1983), p.199.

[45] Tanguy (1954).

[46] André Breton, Rionel Abel (tr.), “What Tanguy Veils and Reveals” in: View (1942), unpagenated, reprinted in: Breton (1965), p.179.

[47] André Thirion, Révolutionnaires sans révolution, Édition du jour (Montréal), Robert Laffont (Paris), 1972, p.97.

[48] Waldberg (1977), p.10.

[49] Sage (1996).

[50] Tanguy (1993), p.80.

[51] Soby (1949), p.3.

[52] Jean-Christophe Bailly, “Yves Tanguy, le silence,” in: XXe siècle, Paris, vol.36, no.43, décembre 1974, unpagenated.

[53] Waldberg (1977), pp.150-153.

[54] 丹生谷貴志「タンギー／「何もない」絵画」『版画芸術』五三号、阿部出版、一九八六年、pp.148-149 （Nibuya Takashi, “Tanguy / The Painting Where “There is Nothing,” in: Hanga-geijyutu, no.53, Abe-syuppan, 1986, pp.148-149）.