Extrait du livre Picasso
Picasso by Tony Hart and Susan Hellard Flowerpot Children's press
Picasso
When Pablo Picasso was born, he was so still and quiet that the nurse thought he was dead. The doctor looked down sadly at the tiny bundle. He took a puff of his long cigar and, with a sigh, blew a cloud of smoke into the baby’s face. Screwing up his face in disgust, Pablo let out a bellow of fury. “That’s more like it!” exclaimed the doctor with relief. The doctor was Pablo’s Uncle Salvador. He rushed to tell the good news to the waiting Picasso family—their son and heir had been born. Pablo Picasso was born in Málaga, southern Spain on 25th October, 1881. Despite the worrying start to his life, Pablo was a strong and healthy baby. Pablo’s grandmother and two aunts lived with the family. They doted on their “Pablito”, so little Pablo was used to being the center of love and attention from his earliest days. He would sit with his aunts while they embroidered gold braid for railway-men’s caps. Pablo loved the intricate patterns they made.
Pablo's father, Don José, was a painter. He didn't sell much of his work, so he took a job at a museum, restoring paintings. Although he wasnt' paid a lot, he could use the studio there for his own work. Don José loved breeding pigeons. Even as a baby, Pablo would often watch his father drawing and painting his favorite subject. One day, Pablo's mother, Doña María, waited excitedly for Don José to come home. "Pablo said his first word today!" said told her husband, "he tried to say 'pencil'". Soon, he could draw spirals like the snail-shaped fritters he loved to eat. Pablo's parents were very proud of their son's progress. "Look, he's not crawling like a baby-he's walking like a man!" laughed his father, as Pablo toddled around holding on to a biscuit tin.
