<div><h5><br></h5><div><div><div><a href="https://www.facebook.com/belkiss.boukabous#" target="" rel="toggle"><i></i><i></i></a></div></div></div></div><div><span>I, someone who does not know much about painting, have always thought that Magritte's "The lovers" is, to a great extent, overrated.&nbsp;<br>Don't get me wrong, it is impossible to disagree that it is a work of raw beauty, yet it is also a work of art that has never moved anything in me. ( And here lies the beauty of art, that is; merely subjective.)</span><span>On the other hand, his painting "La reproduction interdite" or "Not to be reproduced", is a gem that moved every parcel in my soul.<br>The first time I came across it, I didn't even know it was one of Magritte's productions, I remember vividly that I was watching a black and white movie entitled "L'homme qui dort", and between the static mesmerising dialogue, my eyes caught glance of it hang on the wall.</span><div>Instant reaction: Pause.<span>I wanted to capture the perfect angle: A man standing infront of a mirror, it took me a while to understand that it was in fact a mirror, for the man's reflection displays him from behind, and yet the book on the mantelpiece is reflected correctly.&nbsp;<br>It was a conundrum why I was always fascinated by surrealism..<br>I didn't always get it, but I'd always immerse myself profoundly in those peculiar realms.&nbsp;<br>After a quick search on Google, nothing but the title bewildered me.&nbsp;<br>It was "the" perfect painting, I thought.</span><span>In my humble opinion and in utter dull subjectivity, I reckon this painting depicts how little we know ourselves, and how can a mirror be so deceitful and how can our eyes be so prone to illusive optics.&nbsp;<br>As a matter of fact, this painting made me recognize how we can never fathom the abstractions of our being, and this latter discovery, made me somewhat chagrined (because of my pragmatic mind that tends to intellectualise everything) and at the same time, made me relieved (because of the tiny part in me that loathes how Cartesian I can be.)</span>I concluded, if one's eyes only see what they want to see, what's the point of a mirror, after all?What's the point of seeing, at all?<br><span>-Belkiss, <br><br><br></span></div></div>

Magritte René, La Reproduction Interdite review:

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