FRANCOIS FIEDLER
FOUNDATION
Octave Nadal: Fiedler – Unforgettable Shock, 1959
“The unforgettable shock of my first meeting with François Fiedler, some years ago, was the sight of two small canvases,
unframed, abandoned in a corner of the studio in Paris; on the floor itself, in the lowliest of places “from which they could
not be towered further”. I saw nothing else around me. An absolute influx of colors made the objects and canvas hanging
on the wall shimmer and they turned their backs on me to let the rhythm and the light of the world which seemed to be
about to begin, to penetrate into the room. I felt, strongly, the presence of the sea on the sky, without its waves, sands,
clouds or suns. No visible support, whatsoever, no presence, no natural support, but rather an intimate harmony with his
universal themes. I had the sensation of recovering my equilibrium in the color, at once as natural and as instinctive as
jumping, flying, shouting. The painting refrained from questions, problems, inquiries; it returned to describing the obvious;
its primogenic nature flowed anew.”
unframed, abandoned in a corner of the studio in Paris; on the floor itself, in the lowliest of places “from which they could
not be towered further”. I saw nothing else around me. An absolute influx of colors made the objects and canvas hanging
on the wall shimmer and they turned their backs on me to let the rhythm and the light of the world which seemed to be
about to begin, to penetrate into the room. I felt, strongly, the presence of the sea on the sky, without its waves, sands,
clouds or suns. No visible support, whatsoever, no presence, no natural support, but rather an intimate harmony with his
universal themes. I had the sensation of recovering my equilibrium in the color, at once as natural and as instinctive as
jumping, flying, shouting. The painting refrained from questions, problems, inquiries; it returned to describing the obvious;
its primogenic nature flowed anew.”
“I realize that it wasn’t so much about paintings but rather
pictorial act, incessantly initiated and restated to take the
“nothing of color” without any canvas serving as an anterior
model; each one of them came to life with an original
countenance in the strictest sense of the word, in such
manner that it would cause you to doubt that they came
from the same hand were it not that the recognizable quality
and intensity of the matter being dealt with, the mastery of
its execution and means, the resonance, in short their
realization, would have – in the event he had not – signed
them.”
pictorial act, incessantly initiated and restated to take the
“nothing of color” without any canvas serving as an anterior
model; each one of them came to life with an original
countenance in the strictest sense of the word, in such
manner that it would cause you to doubt that they came
from the same hand were it not that the recognizable quality
and intensity of the matter being dealt with, the mastery of
its execution and means, the resonance, in short their
realization, would have – in the event he had not – signed
them.”
Untitled, 1950, 24.5 x 20 in
Octave Nadal is a French writer, art critic, he had chair in literature at Sorbonne in Paris.
“There were canvases that surprised me by their extreme, or at least apparently extreme simplicity; the strengthening of a
single motif, at times monochromatic, and the powerful commencement of an endless rhythm on a bare surface; others
which, by the structural complexity of their agitated and subtle profundity. On all sides the instinctive science of primary
colors. For me, each one involved a new contract with the unforeseeable, the nascent, the indeterminate, which clamoured
for an ever-virginal glance if I really wanted to see the picture.”
“There were canvases that surprised me by their extreme, or at least apparently extreme simplicity; the strengthening of a
single motif, at times monochromatic, and the powerful commencement of an endless rhythm on a bare surface; others
which, by the structural complexity of their agitated and subtle profundity. On all sides the instinctive science of primary
colors. For me, each one involved a new contract with the unforeseeable, the nascent, the indeterminate, which clamoured
for an ever-virginal glance if I really wanted to see the picture.”
“The first thing that became obvious to me was the lack of
structures – colors, forms, strokes – which responded to a logical
rhythm of coordination or subordination. It was never intelligence,
nor the scientific reasoning of forms which exercised the same,
combined them, directed them towards their realization, but rather
a formal sensitivity tied to their free and primitive origins, to their
immediate language.
structures – colors, forms, strokes – which responded to a logical
rhythm of coordination or subordination. It was never intelligence,
nor the scientific reasoning of forms which exercised the same,
combined them, directed them towards their realization, but rather
a formal sensitivity tied to their free and primitive origins, to their
immediate language.
Untitled, 1955, 16 x 31.5 in
“It was necessary to reach a spontaneous and arterial-like surging of all the structures of the painting, in particular, those
of the unforeseen and fatal brushstrokes; preferred without any calculation or mechanization, no cog on cog, no link to
link, but rather as a vital relief of origin impulse and motif. No repetition of symbols, planned or regular; no lineal or cubic
development, no proliferation of alveoli, squares, bars or prisms, no preconceived design, organized in colored
abstractions, in leitmotif, ornamental arabesques, or spiritual stained glass panels. Nothing abandoned, however, to the
itineraries of chance, the flash of the accidental, the vacuum of the spirit or to its “sacred disorder” nor, in consequence, to
automatic graphics, the splashing mechanisms, aggression, pushbutton devices, squandering, pulverizing, sprinkling the
color.”
“He used diverse techniques, ranging from the simple point, dotted and stippled to small islets of folded pictorial
substance, parchment in meshed bronchioles, to rhythmic bunches and clumps, rhythmically distributed in a wide space
crisscrossed and superimposed with graphics of deep scratches, of protuberances, erosions and explosions of every form
of plaste. Although, happily, I could not understand them – they were not, in truth, a “mental thing” – I felt, by way of
compensation, as if those rhythms were running through me and living in me, as if they were a thing of wishes and
desires; I felt, all at once, the unity of his impulse. The most harmonious, just like the most unusual and contradictory
ones, spoke to me of the undulations of the dream of his alteration, the threatened assurance of his enjambments, the
security of his flight, the vertigo of his demolitions, the indecisiveness of his suspensions. He covers the canvas with the
infinitive modules of movement.”
“Since he lays great stress on the professionalism of his work and its occupational resources, he knows full well the
techniques of the bygone painters, the most secret procedures in dealing with the colors, he thinks, nevertheless, that
painting is not merely the will to occupy only the field of the canvas. The frequently referred to Klee’s opinion on the
“distant will” which has to direct all true creation. He told me how, when he was ten years old, he was asked to embellish
the altar of the Christ, in profile, but lingered for a long time in trying to express in color and brushstroke, the effect of his
gaze: His Redeeming Light, “I could do no more”, he confessed to me, “than make a hole in the canvas in place of the
eye.”
This is the point he wanted to reach: looking at the pictorial structures of Fiedler, more closely and over time, they were
found to be immersed in a mystery which did not seem to spring from his actions; they assumed an admirable resonance
and hieratic attitude which their execution had not sought. In the embargo of the painting on its original source, the sacred
had been reached.”
of the unforeseen and fatal brushstrokes; preferred without any calculation or mechanization, no cog on cog, no link to
link, but rather as a vital relief of origin impulse and motif. No repetition of symbols, planned or regular; no lineal or cubic
development, no proliferation of alveoli, squares, bars or prisms, no preconceived design, organized in colored
abstractions, in leitmotif, ornamental arabesques, or spiritual stained glass panels. Nothing abandoned, however, to the
itineraries of chance, the flash of the accidental, the vacuum of the spirit or to its “sacred disorder” nor, in consequence, to
automatic graphics, the splashing mechanisms, aggression, pushbutton devices, squandering, pulverizing, sprinkling the
color.”
“He used diverse techniques, ranging from the simple point, dotted and stippled to small islets of folded pictorial
substance, parchment in meshed bronchioles, to rhythmic bunches and clumps, rhythmically distributed in a wide space
crisscrossed and superimposed with graphics of deep scratches, of protuberances, erosions and explosions of every form
of plaste. Although, happily, I could not understand them – they were not, in truth, a “mental thing” – I felt, by way of
compensation, as if those rhythms were running through me and living in me, as if they were a thing of wishes and
desires; I felt, all at once, the unity of his impulse. The most harmonious, just like the most unusual and contradictory
ones, spoke to me of the undulations of the dream of his alteration, the threatened assurance of his enjambments, the
security of his flight, the vertigo of his demolitions, the indecisiveness of his suspensions. He covers the canvas with the
infinitive modules of movement.”
“Since he lays great stress on the professionalism of his work and its occupational resources, he knows full well the
techniques of the bygone painters, the most secret procedures in dealing with the colors, he thinks, nevertheless, that
painting is not merely the will to occupy only the field of the canvas. The frequently referred to Klee’s opinion on the
“distant will” which has to direct all true creation. He told me how, when he was ten years old, he was asked to embellish
the altar of the Christ, in profile, but lingered for a long time in trying to express in color and brushstroke, the effect of his
gaze: His Redeeming Light, “I could do no more”, he confessed to me, “than make a hole in the canvas in place of the
eye.”
This is the point he wanted to reach: looking at the pictorial structures of Fiedler, more closely and over time, they were
found to be immersed in a mystery which did not seem to spring from his actions; they assumed an admirable resonance
and hieratic attitude which their execution had not sought. In the embargo of the painting on its original source, the sacred
had been reached.”
“The conflict between spirit and hand, involved in his case, as for all the
great creations, some common point, albeit merely the place and the act
itself of its opposition. It was necessary, in short, that they acknowledged
each other in the finished work, since perfection erased even the sign of
the conflict. Similarly, at the same time, it became obvious to me that no
painting by this painter ever recorded an earlier one or even stood
harbinger to the next. Each one was a discovery. Such richness and such
power of being were necessary so that each start was an absolute
beginning, in other words, the risk of creating.”
great creations, some common point, albeit merely the place and the act
itself of its opposition. It was necessary, in short, that they acknowledged
each other in the finished work, since perfection erased even the sign of
the conflict. Similarly, at the same time, it became obvious to me that no
painting by this painter ever recorded an earlier one or even stood
harbinger to the next. Each one was a discovery. Such richness and such
power of being were necessary so that each start was an absolute
beginning, in other words, the risk of creating.”
Untitled, 1958, 26 x 21.5 in
“He delights in the sagacity and the movement of sensitive intuition, the certainties of instinct, the impulses and
imagination granted to the power of the universe. Taken on the level of a pure experience of the specific, his work
develops beyond all classical logic of forms, even when wilfully broken or denied. He enters another planet which he
explores with a totally different spirit. As in his desire that the hand go swiftly to the moment of executing the work (he does
not place the palette – that hindrance – between himself and the painting) the painting itself is the palette. “
imagination granted to the power of the universe. Taken on the level of a pure experience of the specific, his work
develops beyond all classical logic of forms, even when wilfully broken or denied. He enters another planet which he
explores with a totally different spirit. As in his desire that the hand go swiftly to the moment of executing the work (he does
not place the palette – that hindrance – between himself and the painting) the painting itself is the palette. “
