The Cleveland Museum of Art’s newly opened exhibit, Picasso on Paper, offers an intimate glimpse into Picasso’s view of life—how he saw, experienced, and created it—spanning nearly 70 years, from 1904 to 1973. I had the pleasure of attending on opening day, stepping into his mind and gaining a glimpse of one of the most recognized names in the art world.
Although I wouldn’t call myself an avid fan, I found myself drawn into familiar gestures while tip-toeing through the space. I meandered along the exhibit’s pathways, sharing gazes of interest with other visitors, squeezing by those absorbed in their own observations, and searching for my favorite views. Mediums like chalk, charcoal, crayon, graphite, pen, ink, and even tempera paint emerged at every turn. They were all present—woven and layered into his pieces, each a testament to his creative process. Even the paper he used carried its own story. I noticed this immediately: the experimentation, the practice, the process.
The exhibit, organized into periods like Blue, Rose, Cubism, Neoclassicism, Surrealism, and War Years, unfolds as a journey through Picasso’s life and creative evolution. It’s a mix of universal themes and deeply personal expressions, showcasing his iterative process. Whether studying hands, facial features, or bodies, Picasso’s curiosity is evident in the repetition and refinement of his strokes. From self-portraits to depictions of unnamed figures, his work felt like a reflection of life itself—an ever-evolving exploration of identity and experience.
Picasso wasn’t just an artist; he was a thinker, constantly challenging himself and redefining art. His willingness to take risks and convey his intentions, no matter how unconventional, was palpable in every piece.
For me, the Cubism period had a strong hold. My FeelSpace moment of the afternoon arrived with a smirk as I sensed (or perhaps knew) the arrival of African influences in his work. It felt like home—familiar, grounding, and powerful. While not explicitly mentioned in the exhibit’s introductory texts (insert emoji double eyes here), those influences were unmistakable. If you go, you’ll see. But that’s probably a conversation for happy hour!
Another highlight was the Neoclassicism period, which occasionally overlapped with Cubism. And then came the biggest surprise for me: the Parade period, where design takes center stage. One of the most rewarding aspects of single-artist exhibitions is how curators uncover hidden or lesser-known elements of an artist’s life. In Picasso on Paper, I felt like I was introduced not just to his work, but to the man himself.
This exhibit unveiled his lovers and friends, his muses and models, dreams and nightmares, mental illnesses and joys, travels and thoughts, and even his words and struggles. It was an invitation into his world—a world that felt deeply personal and complete. Before this visit, I’m not sure I could have recognized Picasso’s face or figure, but now I feel like I could spot him anywhere!
If you plan to visit, give yourself plenty of time to fully absorb the exhibit. It took me a little over two hours to journey through its halls. It’s like a full-length feature film, complete with a storyline full of highs and lows. The sheer variety of mediums and the number of works might feel overwhelming, but trust me—it’s worth it.
Whether you’re a lifelong admirer of Picasso or new to his world, Picasso on Paper is a must-see.
mj
