Eugene Fidler (1910-1990)
A painter, a watercolourist, a paper-collagist, an engraver, a
ceramicist…
Eugene Fidler in his studio at Roussillon (summer 1985), © JL+L
Impressions
At the start of this new year, I feel like celebrating an artist whom I
admire and love dearly. He was my father-in-law, and I had the good fortune of
sharing wonderful moments with him over a period of 20 years. As a matter of
fact I became acquainted with his work before I actually met him – I am not
referring to my meeting his elder daughter, Cathie, but to his artwork. I
remember how profoundly moved I was when I first saw his wonderful collages.
The musical sensuality of his art touched me to the depth of my soul. The first
time I actually saw him, I didn’t know he was to become my father-in-law and
that, one day, he
would call me “son”. I was most impressed by his elegance, his delicate hands, his
refined manners and his humour. He was
indeed the very first « real » painter I had ever met.
Over the years, we exchanged thoughts, we shared ideas and I loved
listening to the sound of his melodious voice, which was sometimes disrupted by
a formidable burst of laughter. I was even given the privilege of watching him
as he was putting together his bits of paper. I knew this was an exceptional
gift. Often, he would show me his work, talk about the choices he had to make, mention
the difficulties he encountered and even ask for my opinion. Who was I to pass
judgment on the work of such a great artist? I was astounded. Deep within me, I
was both honoured and moved. He was most generous. Whenever I told him I liked
a drawing or even a collage, he would later offer it to me as a surprise
gift. Well, he would offer it to us. There was a distinctive lightness
about him, nourished by secret anxieties one noticed fleetingly in his work.
This appealed to me and resonated within me.
In 2016, I lived intensely in his company, so to speak, for a few months
as I photographed the illustrations that are now in Cathie Fidler’s book, Eugène Fidler, Terres mêlées. It is a
long letter addressed to her father, which follows his various experiences from
Balti to Roussillon. The little girl asks questions while the daughter, now an
adult writer, puts into soothing words the complexity of a relationship fuelled
by the admiration she feels for her artist-father.