[SIGNOVERT Jean - BRAQUE Georges]

[SIGNOVERT Jean - BRAQUE Georges] Unpublished autograph manuscript by Jean Signovert intended for *Nouvelles de l'Estampe*, undated. Set of 4 pages handwritten in blue ink on graph paper; 2 sheets from an unmarked spiral-bound draft notebook (22 cm), preserved in its original folder bearing handwritten notes in the margins, likely in the hand of his wife Josie: "Published in *Nouvelles de l'Estampe* but revised with Cl. Villard." An important reflective essay devoted to Georges Braque and interpretive printmaking. Written in the form of a veritable professional manifesto, Signovert recounts his encounter with Braque, his role in transposing Braque’s drawings into engravings, and vigorously defends the engraver’s creative role within the printmaking process. Comparing his craft to that of a musician performing Bach, Beethoven, or Mozart, he explicitly asserts his collaboration with Braque: “I interpreted Braque; why should I be ashamed of that? No, absolutely not.” The text also serves as a rare account of the practices of the engraving studio in the 20th century and of the relationship between painter and engraver. Signovert cites several major artists whose works he has interpreted in engravings, including Hans Arp, Maurice Estève, Serge Poliakoff, and Charles Lapicque. The conclusion, “Neither I nor Braque lied,” lends the entire work the weight of a true artistic manifesto. More than just an article on Braque, this manuscript is a passionate defense of the engraver’s craft. Written in a direct, conversational style, it reveals an intimate side of Jean Signovert, passionately asserting the engraver’s role in the creative process and addressing the misunderstandings of certain collectors regarding interpretive engraving. An unpublished manuscript of great interest for the history of modern printmaking, the Braque-Signovert collaboration, and the study of postwar engraving workshops. Transcription: “On an Engraving (Shame on anyone who thinks ill of it) Isn’t the encounter between a young man and a man of more mature years interesting, and shouldn’t it bear fruit? Which should one prefer: the apple tree—the tree that bears the apple—or the apple itself? One admires the apple tree and bites into the apple. The sun that gilds the thing needs the thing. That magnificent encounter I had with one of the pioneers of Cubism—one of the great painters of our century, of this immense and colossal era—remains and will remain etched in my memory like certain bloody and indelible marks from my childhood. Like him, like them, I had made myself—I, who was nothing, whom no one wanted because I was something. I was, and I will remain—no matter what anyone does—clinging to that prestigious name. It was the most beautiful revenge ever granted to me. Would you have me renounce it now—for his sake, for mine, for my art, for the engraving to which I have dedicated my life, through which I have inscribed in metal all my most beautiful pages of love and suffering? No, I do not renounce it, nor will I ever renounce anything. Yes, I worked alongside him, just as one works alongside a loved one. Yes, for him I engraved with all my heart, interpreting his drawings, bringing his design to life on the metal plate with my burin or my acid. What my father and mother had given me—that wonderful gift at my birth—I, Signovert, offered to him. I gave it to him. A deeply intimate encounter with one of those legendary giants of Cubism—I’m proud of it. If I were a musician and had to perform Bach, Beethoven, or Mozart, I’d be proud of it and wouldn’t want to betray them. I interpreted Braque—why should I be ashamed of that? No, absolutely not. You, the collector, are up in arms—why didn’t you do your research beforehand? Why didn’t you learn about our craft? Let me tell you, you strike me as slightly ridiculous. Go to an engraver’s studio—not a printer’s—an engraver’s, I say—and watch the work; wait two days, three days, eight days, a year—the birth of an engraving—and when you’ve seen how it’s conceived and how it’s brought to life, then you’ll understand interpretive engraving, provided it’s done as it should be done. Without betraying the original, but let it be an interpretation. I’ve engraved Arp, I’ve engraved Estève, I’ve engraved Poliakoff and Lapicque as well, and if my name isn’t inscribed there in gold letters, that’s your fault, and you’re the one who loses out. But you chose this fate through your own laziness, and that is only fair. Now let us keep our share of justice and truth. Neither I nor Braque have lied. The flower must have its stem. And in serving one another—that is the essence of art.” Signs of wear, tacks holes, erasures, a few stains. Provenance: Jean’s studio collection