By LUIZ RENATO MARTINS*
The “death of painting” with a poetic and political purpose (excerpt from the book La Conspiration de l'art moderne: une approche marxiste)**
A challenge
I will start by accepting the challenge proposed to me by a dear friend Juan Antonio Ramírez, who recommended that I deal with the connection between modern art and regicide. In times of denial of history, it is this historian's intuition that I will try to respond to.
Has anything equivalent happened in the history of modern art to what regicide was in political and social history? The construction of modern art took place from a rupture such as the one that ratified the foundation of the revolutionary republic in 1793, with the double rite of execution of the Capetian couple, as a collectively reflected and deliberate act – perceived then not as just French, but but as an unprecedented and decisive turn in world history?
– “Re-propose the history of modern art, starting from the idea of regicide…” – while we were ordering something to drink at the counter, he threw it at me, speaking to the side, as if making a casual comment, perhaps to make fun, or perhaps even infected by the undisciplined agitation of Mexican daily life (in which things happen, overlapping each other)… Having devoured (as I noticed later) a text I had given him to read on the way, about Manet’s (1832-83) shooting scene of Maximiliano, it was with such a challenge (immediately unfolded in one of his laughs) that Juan Antonio provoked me in a shabby roadside cafe, during a bus stop on the journey from Oaxaca to Mexico City.
He then returned to the subject a few times, but with such insistence in tone, that I ended up noticing it going on, more than the Eros or historian's instinct - and more also than the joke between friends -, in fact, the ethos of a Spanish republican, irresignable in the face of restoration and the rhetoric of conciliation, which nevertheless remain as stony clauses in Spain since the Moncloa agreements in October 1977, in the transition package under Francoist regency.
As is known, pacts that subsequently became a paradigm for all conservative transitions in Latin America – prepared in the light of Moncloa to prevent the people from flooding the streets (as had occurred shortly before in Portugal in the joyful and popular overthrow of the Salazar regime in April of 1974, and a phenomenon that Francoism, with the active support of the United States, tried at all costs to avoid); in short, pacts that constituted, in their own way, an early experiment in the imposition of neoliberal totalitarianism on a world scale.
The challenge became a compromise and, later unfortunately, also the affective legacy of a friend who left too soon.[I]
Regicide
I'll do it like a detective. I will translate the figure of regicide, laden with symbolism and with the synthetic force of a fulminating act, into other more subtle questions, in order to begin the investigation step by step.
I should clarify that we stipulated from the outset, between Juan Antonio and me, to take regicide in painting not as a motive, but as an operation of language or a symbolic act. Therefore, by regicide with regard to painting – understanding the latter as a regal mode of visuality or a greater visual paradigm – it would be a question of reexamining the terms and circumstances of the so-called “death of painting”, certainly not as a natural fact or of expiry, but as an act of judgment and for good reason with poetic and political purpose.
From “ancien régime” to regicide: issues
That said, let's move forward with the investigation whose aim will consist, according to the challenge, of reconstructing the nexuses of a historical process through a systematized critical narrative. When did the irruption of heterogeneity and irreconcilability date as pictorial experiences? Since when did the “divine primacy of harmony” or of classical metaphysical unity as principles of the artistic order become extinct and instead establish a kind of “natural law” of different materials? Under what circumstances did the plebeian and materialist irruption occur, which brought to painting all sorts of vulgar practices without a trace of mastery, in addition to the ordinary materials organically linked to the work and life of the great majority? Since when was painting snatched away from palatial enclosures and the seclusion of the spirit and immersed in the convulsions and contingencies of cities and megalopolises?
In other words, to outline the transition that led painting to negate and overcome its Old regime, I will try to situate, in terms of the sphere of visuality and its history, the dissolution of the divine right regime in painting and its transformation into an element of a new republican regime exposed to the tense and lacerating course of class conflict.
However, the first problem: how to translate such eminently legal-political notions and arising from the reflection on social history in terms of aesthetic ideas, without undermining the specificity and dynamics of both? This is one of the difficulties – and certainly not the smallest – involved in Juan Antonio's challenge.
Demonstration
Let us begin the investigation dealing with its historical-material base before the legal and abstract one. Let us begin by specifying the process of accelerated modernization according to the experience of fragmentation and discontinuity – or of “shock”, as Walter Benjamin (1892-1940) said, referring to the generalized transformation process that strongly affected the surroundings of Edgar Allan Poe (1809-49) and Charles Baudelaire (1821-67).[ii] Let us then turn our attention to the painter that Charles Baudelaire called “the first in the decrepitude” of his art:[iii] Édouard Manet – who also had the task of resuming, revaluing and updating the taboo theme of regicide in his works on the execution of Maximilian, a theme to which he returned five times from July 1867 until approximately the end of January 1869, when he concluded the canvas, now in Mannheim, and the associated lithograph.[iv] From the outset, therefore, it should be noted that regicide, discontinuity and shock are experiences with different names, but originating from the same historical bed.
However, since before the canvases about Maximiliano's execution, if we admit the articulation of discontinuous elements as a primordial premise of the notion of collage, and this as a syntax inherent to a relationship between essentially heterogeneous elements (unlike a natural background syntax and an organic and continuous fluency), we can consider that something of a collage – or of a shock-based visual experience – is already presented in Le Déjeuner sur l'Herbe (Lunch on the Grass, 1863, oil on canvas, 208 x 264 cm, Paris, Musée d'Orsay) by Éduard Manet.
Its theme, two bourgeois and two female figures in a forest, is borrowed from two works of tradition: an engraving by Marcantonio Raimondi (ca. 1480-1534), The Judgment of Paris (The Judgment of Paris, ca. 1515-16, engraving, 29,2 x 43,6 cm, London, The British Museum), based on a now lost work of the same title by Raphael (1483-1520); and the country concert (The Country Concert, ca. 1510, oil on canvas, 118 x 138 cm, Paris, Musée du Louvre), by Titian (ca. 1485/90-1576). To what end?
In effect, its purpose, to be brief, was mainly to make explicit the positive negativity inherent to the capitalist historical process that dismantles and transforms everything before our eyes. In this way, Manet's painting sought to effect, with method and recurrence, the return to figures of tradition, chosen by the painter with philological refinement – precisely to demonstrate the impossibility of such. A des-Revival didactic was the purpose of such an experience, daughter in its own way if not Hegel, of historicism (note that Chenavard, painter of the previous generation, interlocutor and friend of Delacroix and Baudelaire, had made the historical process his great motive. unlike Édouard Manet –, in Chenavard’s method, still devoid of philological and materialist concerns, the forms, bases and parameters of his painting remained unshakably neoclassical).
However, Édouard Manet's critical operation, before exhausting the problem, only introduced it. He urged the viewers of his canvases to map the actuality itself under incessant transformation, as he had already noticed, before the painter, Baudelaire – this one already a materialist and philologist of modern life – without forgetting, of course, the communist manifesto (1848), Marx (1818-83) and Engels (1820-95).[v]
Thus, the treatment of materials from the tradition in Lunch… appears in sharp contrast to the harmony values of Raphael's classicism and the chromatic system of Tiziano and Giorgione (1476/8-1510) – to whom it was once also attributed The Country Concert. In this sense, several dissonances develop in Manet's canvas, such as, for example, the absence of transition between light and shadow in favor of the establishment of contrasting chromatic oppositions - and from now on, and without further ado, I consider many others to be evident without mentioning them, to better dwell on the strategic and exemplary question of the absurd content of the scene, which displaces and takes the place of pleasant commerce with the Renaissance muses of the Concert...
In contrast, in Dejeuner…, located on the outskirts of Paris during the II Empire, beside a woman in luminous nudity, two bourgeois in suits are prosaically entertaining themselves as if they were alone or absent from the situation; one with a lost look and wandering, another who talks counting on his fingers as if calculating something, with a view to business or whatever. In the background, one can see the second female figure half crouched and absorbed, picking something from the ground and dissociated from the three characters in front, which, after all, reinforces the absurdities of the scene, while also subliminally highlighting the ties (atomized ) of each of the figures with the time.
Certainly, with so many and such obvious contradictions, the scene seemed, instead of narrating or designating something, to make fun of current common sense. However, at the same time, he surreptitiously introduced elements of a new type of realism, fragmentary and involving shock effects that highlighted traits of the current way of being. In fact and in effect, in both registers of perception, the language of the Dejeuner… owed not a little to the dioramas, panoramas and other visual games of the entertainment industry in Paris at the time.[vi] The visual elements and parts of the painting were designed as if they were intended for different works and scenes. The impudence of the operation sounded like an attack against the “high painting”, with a neoclassical taste, displayed in the Salons. [vii]
class lunch
Despite the strategy of provocation, and beyond the festival of inconsistencies, it is also possible to establish, through deductions and syntheses, the meaning of the references of the scene of the Dejeuner ... Thus, for a radical republican with a scathing spirit in the face of the Bonapartist restoration – which Marx already classified as a farce ten years ago –,[viii] the scene, before being absurd in itself, could well evoke something of the reigning political situation. The canvas would operate in these terms as a parody or caricature, along the lines of, for example, those of Daumier (1808-79) – in fact, an author much appreciated by Baudelaire from an early age.[ix] and taken as an example by the young Manet (disciple of the poet-critic) despite the exasperation of Couture (1815-79), his master in the activity.[X]
From this perspective, the naked female figure flanked by the two dressed-up bourgeois – but shrugging their shoulders while staring directly at the viewer – could well serve as a Marianne (the well-known allegorical image of the French republic), a central topic, for example, in Delacroix’s emblematic painting (1798-1863) – another master of the previous generation –, La Liberté Guidant le Peuple (1830, oil on canvas, 325 x 260 cm, Paris, Louvre), about the so-called “Glorious Days” of the Revolution of 1830.[xi]
Except that Édouard Manet's Marianne – a figure of farce, in Marx's sentence – instead of guiding the people appears isolated from the urban environment and installed in the grass like a kind of booty, trophy or pet, decorating the picnic of two bourgeois probably in search of a bucolic refuge from the rumor and dust of the great reforms in Paris, ordered by Napoleon III (1808-73) to Baron Haussmann (1809-91).
Marianne naked and speechless
In these terms, the scene appears precisely as an ironic counterpoint to Delacroix's painting – which, in the wake of the mythical journeys of 1830, celebrated the political union of the bourgeoisie with the people. Manet, on the other hand, born in 1832 and painting thirty years later, certainly had no way of harboring similar illusions. In fact, his historical memory piled up with the many scenes of iniquity of the bourgeois monarchy (characterized by Daumier), the role of the bourgeoisie in the massacres of June 1848, and finally, its approval of the coup d'état of December 2nd. from 1851.
Therefore, seen in this other key – as opposed to Delacroix's canvas –, the scene could well correspond to the judgment that a republican like Édouard Manet[xii] would do about the II Empire – born of the December 1851 stagger.[xiii] To summarize, the canvas between ironic and allegorical would allude to the situation of the State and political life in France, monopolized by the bourgeoisie; and, finally, to their opaque dealings and shady alliances at the expense of the public interest or Marianne – now perplexed and mute, naked and almost on offer on the grass – converted into the exact opposite of the austere and virtuous Marianne with classic features of the primordial years I and II, always on a pedestal or elevated as a messenger of the fundamental truths of the Nation. In contrast, Marianne on the grass, presented by Manet with the air of freshness of a contemporary Parisian woman – anonymous among many others in the (female) labor market and (male) pleasure market – is a forerunner of the attendant who, from the side from there on the balcony Un Bar aux Folies-Bergères (1881-2, oil on canvas, 96 x 130 cm, London, Courtauld Institute Galleries), gazes wordlessly at the illustrious client, stately and wearing a top hat, seen in the mirror.
Analogously, the female figure in the background, absorbed in picking something from the ground, could well have come out – were it not for the garments, parodically suggestive of the fashionable neoclassical reliquary. thanks to empire – from a canvas like Des Glaneuses (The Collectors, 1857, oil on canvas, 83,5 x 110 cm, Paris, Musée d'Orsay), by Millet (1814-75) (another outstanding author and reference point of the previous pictorial generation, although not for the urban perspective and Manet's cosmopolitan). Considering the declared link between Millet's painting and peasant life in France, the female effigy in the background would consist of another class allegory – here, that of the peasants; these were, in a way, a passive basis for the policies of the II Empire, but at the same time excluded from the focus of big business, starting with the mega-reforms in Paris.
In conclusion – and considering all of this –, the observer of the Salon of 1863 would then have before his eyes a satirical scene in the style of those caricatures by Daumier – but, transposed into painting – and at the same time one in which multiple references to the masters of the previous generation still active at that point. The fact is that the canvas enraged many – by joining “bare wires”, as they would say after the advent of electrical wiring – and, in these terms, it can well be seen as an example, regarding the still regal order of painting, of what was called “anti-bourgeois aesthetics” by Oehler.[xiv]
Finally, it can be conceded that such a hypothesis seems in principle reasonable. But that is not what matters here. Much more than the dimension of the punctual significance of a canvas, what is at stake, based on the challenge proposed by Juan Antonio – involving a systematic narrative reordering of the historical process of modern art – is to establish a broad-spectrum productive principle connected in some way to regicide. Based on this principle, a transition from “ancien régime” of painting, based on the pictorial unity of the elements or on the “divine” principle of harmony of the work, towards a new sphere of visuality, this time wanting according to “republican premises” – to be achieved, of course, according to the challenge by Juan Antonio, to establish some bridge or plausible equivalence between the juridical-political sphere and that of aesthetics, considered in the tradition of idealism illustrated since Kant (1724-1804) currently as “autonomous”.[xv]
* Luiz Renato Martins he is professor-advisor of PPG in Economic History (FFLCH-USP) and Visual Arts (ECA-USP). He is the author, among other books, of The Conspiracy of Modern Art (Haymarket/ HMBS).
**Excerpt from the opening section of the original version (in Portuguese) of chap. 11, “From a lunch on the grass to the bridges of Petrograd (notes from a seminar in Madrid): regicide and the dialectical history of modern art”, from the book La Conspiration de l'art moderne: une approche marxiste, edition et introduction by François Albera, translation by Baptiste Grasset, Paris, editions Amsterdam (2024, prim. semester, proc. FAPESP 18/26469-9).
Notes
[I] Juan Antonio Ramírez proposed the challenge in October 2007, and took part in its first stage, which consisted of presenting the commissioned work at his postgraduate seminar at the Universidad Autónoma de Madrid in a few sessions from January 5 to 21, 2009. After the seminar, Juan Antonio proposed that the notes for the speech be combined with other essays of mine, to be published in a volume of the “Biblioteca azul” collection that he directed for Siruela editions (Madrid). In September, Juan Antonio died suddenly.
[ii] “The shock as a predominant form of sensation is accentuated by the objectified and capitalist process of work. The discontinuity of moments of shock finds its cause in the discontinuity of work that has become automatic, no longer admitting the traditional experience that presided over artisanal work. To the shock experienced by the person walking in the crowd corresponds to an unprecedented experience: that of the worker in front of the machine” (Le choc en tant que form preponderante de la sensation se trouve accentué par le processus objectivisé et capitaliste du travail. La discontinuité des moments de choc trouve sa cause dans la discontinuité d'un travail devenu automatique, n'admettant plus l'experience traditionelle qui présidait au travail artisanale. Au choc éprouvé par celui qui flâne dans la foule corresponds to an unprecedented experience: celle de l'ouvrier devant la machine) ». Cf. Walter BENJAMIN, “À propos de quelques motifs baudelariens”, in idem, Écrits Français, introduction et notices by Jean-Maurice Monnoyer, Paris, Gallimard/ Folio Essais, 2003, p. 317. The above excerpt is part of the summary that accompanied the text Über einige Motive bei Baudelaire, published by the magazine Zeitschrift for Social Forschung (n. VIII, 1939/1940, pp. 50-89), apud J.-M. Monnoyer, in W. BENJAMIN, op cit., P. 302.
[iii] "(...) you are but the first in the decrepitude of your art (...vous n'êtes que le premier dans la décrépitude de votre art )” (italics in the original). Cf. Charles BAUDELAIRE, “165. To Édouard Manet/ [Bruxelles] Jeudi 11 May 1865”, in idem, Correspondence, choix et présentation by Claude Pichois et Jérôme Thélot, Paris, Gallimard, 2009, pp. 339-41.
[iv] The February 7, 1869 issue of La Chronique des Arts et de la Curiosité: Supplément à la Gazette des Beaux-arts, from Paris, reported that the canvas, now in Mannheim, had just been completed, and according to the newspaper, it was “excellent”. This news from Chronique constituted a suite of the ironic note by Emile Zola, friend of Manet, published in La Tribune (Paris, 04.02.1869) about the censored lithograph. This lithograph – with the same compositional structure as the canvas – was certainly prepared in parallel with the canvas. The ban on displaying the canvas, announced in a letter – possibly from the Ministry of the Interior to Manet – was accompanied in the same document as the ban on printing lithographs whose matrix was already in the hands of printer Lemercier. For transcripts of Manet's January 31 personal note to Zola about censorship, as well as subsequent journalistic writing, see Juliet WILSON-BAREAU (ed. by), “Documents relating to the 'Maximilian Affair'”, in Françoise CACHIN , Charles S. MOFFET, J. WILSON-BAREAU, Manet 1832-1883, catalog of the exhibitions (Galeries Nationales du Grand Palais, Paris, 22 Apr. - 08 Aug.1983; The Metropolitan Museum, New York, 10 Sept. – 27 Nov. 1983), New York, The Metropolitan Museum/ Abrams, 1983 , pp. 531-32. For more details on Manet's series of paintings of Maximilian's execution, see Juliet Wilson-Bareau “Manet and The Execution of Maximilian”, in idem, Manet: the Execution of Maximilian/ Paintings, Politics and Censorship, London, National Gallery Publications, 1992, pp. 35-85. See also John ELDERFIELD, Manet and the Execution of Maximilian, cat. from the exhibition of the same title (MoMA, N. York, 5 Nov. 2006 – 29 Jan. 2007), New York, 2006, p. 116. For the key importance of the series of works on the execution of Maximilian in Manet's output as a whole, see "Returns from regicide" in this volume.
[v] “The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionizing the instruments of production and, in this way, the relations of production and, with them, all the relations of society (The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionizing the means of production, and thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society).” Cf. Karl Marx and Friedrich ENGELS, The Communist Manifesto, trans. Patrícia MS de Assis, review by André Carone, Rio de Janeiro, Paz e Terra, 1998, p. 13; K. Marx and F. ENGELS, The Communist Manifesto, edited by Phil Gasper, Chicago, Haymarket, p. 44.
[vi] See Susan BUCK-MORSS, The Dialectics of Seeing/ Walter Benjamin and the Arcades Project, Cambridge (MA), The MIT Press, 1991; S. BUCK-MORSS, Dialectics of the Gaze: Walter Benjamin and the Projects of the Passages, trans. Ana Luiza Andrade, rev. technician David Lopes da Silva, Belo Horizonte/ Chapecó (SC), Ed. UFMG/ Ed. Argos University, 2002. See also, Jonathan CRARY, Techniques of the Observer/ On Vision and Modernity in the Nineteenth Century, Cambridge (MA), October Book/MIT Press, 1998; trans. en.: Observer Techniques / Vision and Modernity in the XNUMXth Century, trans. Verrah Chamma, Rio de Janeiro, Counterpoint, 2012.
[vii] Among those offended by the irony of Manet's canvas, at the time, would be the Emperor Napoleon III (1808-73) himself - this one, an admirer of another painter, Alexandre Cabanel (1823-89), respectful of standards and whose birth of venus (La Naissance de Venus, 1863, oil on canvas, 130 x 225 cm, Paris, Musée d'Orsay) would triumph at the Salon that year, winning the Emperor's Acquisition Prize. See Michael WILSON, “Le Déjeuner sur l'Herbe” in idem, Manet at Work, cat. Manet at Work (London, The National Gallery, 10 August – 9 October 1983, exh. org. by M. Wilson), London, The National Gallery, 1983, p. 22.
[viii] See K. MARX, The 18th Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte, in idem, The 18th Brumaire and Letters to Kugelmann, trans. by Leandro Konder and Renato Guimarães, Rio de Janeiro, Paz e Terra, 5th ed., 1986; K. MARX, “The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte” in Mark Cowling and James Martin (edited by), Marx's 'Eighteenth Brumaire'/ (Post)modern interpretations, transl. by Terrell Carver, London, Pluto Press, 2002, pp. 19-109.
[ix] See, for example, C. BAUDELAIRE, “Quelques caricaturistes français”, in idem, Complete Oeuvres, text, text and annotation by C. Pichois, Paris, Pléiade/Gallimard, 2002, vol. II, pp. 544-63.
[X] According to Cachin, “Manet’s insolence in Couture’s studio (whose Manet was a student) was proverbial” and the master – who once commented on the subject: “he will always be incorrigible, which is a shame because he has talent” – he would have said to him on one occasion, faced with Manet's insistence on portraying types of his time to the detriment of neoclassical models: "My poor young man, you will never be more than the Daumier of your time". apud Françoise CACHIN, Manet, transl. Emily Read, New York, Konecky & Konecky, 1991, p. 12. In addition to the alignment of youth with Daumier, rejected by Couture, Manet adopted the caricaturist's expedients on canvas: if the contemporary clothing of the male figures brought the scene up to date, the female figures, both characterized according to neoclassical clichés and ironizing the anachronism of the reigning taste, ended the conjunction in parody. As for Manet's relationship with Daumier, Fried highlights the explicit links between two of Manet's works, The Dead Bullfighter (1864, oil on canvas, 75,9 x 153,3 cm, Washington DC, National Gallery of Art) and lithograph Civil war (1871, litho, 39,7 x 50,8 cm, Imp. Lemercier et Cie, London, The British Museum), with the emblematic lithograph by Daumier, rue Transnonain (1834), on the massacre of people by the troops of the Luís-Felipe regime, which took place on April 15, 1834. See Michael FRIED, Manet's Modernism or, The Face of Painting in the 1860s, Chicago and London, The University of Chicago Press, 1996, n. 165, pp. 495-6.
[xi] See Dolf OEHLER, “Freedom, darling freedom/ Masculine fantasies about Freedom”, translation by JB Ferreira in D. OEHLER, Volcanic Terrains, translated by S. Titan Jr., M. Suzuki, L. Repa, JB Ferreira, São Paulo, Cosac & Naify, 2004, pp. 195-216. (original edition not consulted: Dolf OEHLER, “Liberté, Liberté chérie. Männerphantasien über die Freiheit. Zur Problematik der erotischen Freiheitsallegorie”, in Peter von Becker (ed.), Georg Büchner – Dantons Tod. Die Trauerarbeit im Schönen. Ein Theater-Lesebuch (Frankfurt, Syndikat Verlag, 1980), pp. 91-105.
[xii] From a very young age, Manet manifested distrust and political animosity against Louis Napoleon, at that point President of the Republic elected four months ago (10.12.1848). Thus, in a letter dated March 22.03.1849, XNUMX, at the age of seventeen, from Rio de Janeiro, he wrote to his father: “… try to save for us a good Republic for our return, because I fear that L. Napoleón is not very republican". Cf. Édouard MANET, Lettres du Siège de Paris/ Précédées des Lettres du Voyage à Rio de Janeiro, intr. d'Arnauld Le Brusq, Éditions de l'Amateur, 1996, p. 35. See also M. FRIED, on. cit., no. 235, p. 506. On the intensity of Manet's relationship with the republican historian Jules Michelet (1798-1874), a friend of his parents, see Idem, pp. 130-1, 142. For Fried, "Manet's personal republicanism played an active role in his art." Cf. Same, p. 404.
[xiii] To the current observer, The 18th Brumaire, by Marx – despite being specifically referred to the period preceding the II Empire – constitutes an indispensable point of observation to really understand the sarcasm that things of the II Empire aroused among radical republicans. At the time, however, it is unlikely that the young Manet had access to the text. The current source of satires that were equally valid for the Second Republic and the Second Empire were basically the caricatures, drawn and modeled in terracotta by Daumier, in large part also coming from the previous period, pre-1851. In this sense, the corrosive power of Marx's text, beyond the ironic verve that is characteristic of it, borrows and transplants procedures from Daumier's caricatures into writing. Even without Marx, Manet had enough food to mock the ways and means of the Second Empire.
[xiv] For the notion of “anti-bourgeois aesthetics”, see D. OEHLER, Le Spleen Contre l'Oubli/ June 1848/ Baudelaire, Flaubert, Heine, Herzen, trans. Guy Petitdemange, Paris, Éditions Payot, 1996, pp. 8-9 and 15-22. For the development of the notion in a previous study, see idem, Pariser Bilder (1830-1848): Antibourgeoise Ästhetik bei Baudelaire, Daumier und Heine, Frankfurt am Main, Suhrkamp, 1979 (not consulted). Parisian Paintings (1830-1848): Anti-bourgeois Aesthetics in Baudelaire, Daumier and Heine, translation by JM Macedo and S. Titan Jr., São Paulo, Companhia das Letras, 1997.
[xv] For Baudelaire's discussion of the issue, see LR MARTINS, “The Conspiracy of Modern Art,” in idem, Revolutions: Poetry of the Unfinished 1789-1842, vol. 1, preface François Albera, São Paulo, Idéias Baratas/ Sundermann (supported by FAPESP), 2014, pp. 27-44.
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