Picasso and the prodigal son

There’s a fascinating exhibition running at Tate Britain in London, called Picasso and Modern British Art. It traces the legacy and influence of Picasso on seven British artists including Ben Nicholson, Henry Moore and David Hockney. It’s well worth a visit. One room focuses on a visit Picasso made to London in 1919 to work on the scenery and costumes for Sergei Diaghilev’s ballet The Three-Cornered Hat. It reminded me of watching that same ballet, with Picasso’s scenery and costumes – though not in 1919. It was part of a programme of short ballets where the décor and/or costume designs were by well-known artists. My memory of The Three-Cornered Hat is lots of reeling around by a miller and his wife. But the ballet that really stuck in my mind was very different…

The Prodigal Son is by George Balanchine with scenery by Georges Rouault. (Perhaps you had to be called George to work on it.) It’s the most memorable ballet I’ve ever seen, very effectively portraying the various stages in the life of the son who rejected his father. But they saved the best for last. In the final act, the son comes home. There stands his father, proud and regal, to the right of the stage. The son then enters stage left – a broken man, collapsed on the ground. Slowly, painfully he pulls himself across the stage towards his father. And then, in the most impressive meld of strength and beauty I’ve ever seen, uses just his arms to pull himself up his father’s body until he can curl, at rest, in his father’s arms. It was deeply emotional, utterly captivating, stunning to watch…

…and completely wrong. This ballet is about the son. His pride and self-centredness, his rejection of all the father stood for, his descent into debauchery and from there poverty, and in the end, his return to where he started, pulling himself into his father’s arms. The father just stands there. The son saves himself.

What a contrast to the father as presented to us by Jesus: “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him” (Luke 15 v 20). The ballet was amazing, I’ll never forget it. But I’m so glad that the father – God, our Father – isn’t anything like he was portrayed in that dance. “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5 v 8)