Jackson Pollock, Joan Miró and the unconscious

When Sigmund Freud, the now world-famous neurologist and founder of psychoanalysis, presented his book “The Interpretation of Dreams” on November 4, 1899, he most likely guessed how radically new the theses contained in it were, but he probably did not expect that not only modern psychology and psychiatry, but indeed a fundamental part of Western intellectual and art history would change as a result from that point onwards. The discovery of the unconscious (nowadays often mistakenly referred to as the “subconscious”) meant shock and humiliation for some, but a form of release for others.

Power unleashed

Various artists and intellectuals studied these new theories or subsequently underwent analysis themselves – even during Freud’s lifetime psychotherapy was developed by various doctors with new aspects expanded and changed. Jackson Pollock himself consulted a doctor about psychoanalytical sessions between 1939 and 1940; his drawings and paintings became the means through which Pollock aimed to express his inner state to Dr. Henderson (which, incidentally, the doctor would publish after the artist’s death to much criticism and indignation).

Stanley Meisner, who wrote an article for the “Smithsonian Magazine” on a visit he had made to Joan Miró’s studio 15 years before, figured out precisely this aspect: What appeared so easy and spontaneous in great artists was, in truth, the result of lifelong discipline. What’s more, he had no shortage of derision for clumsy psychologization: “What happens, happens within”, says Miró in the article, quoting the end of a Catalan saying, only to then quickly backtrack: “Within?” he chuckles with an affected hand gesture, “Uhh!”. Whereby he charmingly rebuffs those who always like to characterize him as an artist whose rich inner life is almost constanty revealed and accessible at all times.

Who painted it first?

In the case of Jackson Pollock and Joan Miró, the famous chicken-and-egg question is perhaps not really worth answering. This is not even simply because some ideas at very specific times appear to buzz through the artistic ether in particularly high concentration until they ultimately become physical on the canvas (in science this phenomenon is described theoretically as “multiple discovery”). Rather, primarly because in the recognition of the relevant other – to make use of psychoanalysis here once again – there is not least recognition of oneself, therefore there is no one without the other.

Jackson Pollock enjoyed working in his summer house on Long Island, which he moved into with his wife Lee Krasner in 1945, and Joan Miró was considered very much a family man, who particularly in his later years preferred the tranquility of Mallorca to the big city and favored the exchange of letters with respected artists over continual exchange in artists’ bars. Incidentally, a few years ago Pollock’s work was actually hosted by Miró, or at least by the legacy he left to the world: In 2012 the Fundació Joan Miró in Barcelona presented “Explosion! The legacy of Jackson Pollock”, which covered not only the key works of Pollock’s oeuvre, but also his influence on an entire generation of artists, which is hard to overestimate. Simply another thing the two artists have in common.