Results 1 – 7 of 7 Aveux non avenus by Claude Cahun and a great selection of related books, art and collectibles available now at Important art by Claude Cahun with artwork analysis of achievement and This is the first illustration found in Cahun’s autobiographical text Aveux non Avenus. The title Aveux non avenus does not lend itself to facile translation. While “Aveux” may be clearly understood as either “avowals” or “confessions,” the addition of.

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What would happen to us if we had to ask you for permission to displease you, Your confession, your retraction — when you yourself know very well how to go further. Too many dead leaves.

Aveux non Avenus bk w9 works, folio by Claude Cahun on artnet

They growl with a hollow sound, reveal their firm teeth and seize the child by the back of his knees. I have told you that I felt compelled to deify whatever I love. A — My cowardice. But you, to calm me down: My spirit is rather slow…but the flesh is willing! This woman, passionate, irreligious and not much of a gossip, was taken for a madwoman in the area. But our bed of vegetation cried out under the weight of our two bodies.

Constructed Realities: Claude Cahun’s Created World in Aveux Non Avenus.

To clarify the still uncreated role we can draw on all sorts of pretexts: I covet it, certainly, but how to attain it? If the talking machine did not recreate the world more or less daily, it would have no greater function than to replace an ensemble of instruments.


What displeases you the most in general? Everything about them that seems to me superficial, conventional, unjust, greedy, unreasonable, second hand.

Constructed Realities: Claude Cahun’s Created World in Aveux Non Avenus.

Physical description Black and white photograph of a photocollage depicting male and female figures, a duck, scissors and avejus body parts. I can feel my thighs become thinner in the sweat of fever as if I could see it happening, sometimes a scalding shower, sometimes icy, always unexpected.

And my nails would unhesitatingly tear a route to daylight for the fugitive from this heart were it not so despairingly dark outside.

And you have no excuse: The “self-portraits” attributed to Cahun have figured cahunn in several major exhibitions for instance, Inverted Odysseys: What was I saying about natural? For loneliness, alas, requires such physical and spiritual munificence.

From tomorrow make the most irreplaceable… Yes, I know that song. Everything I pull cluade from there, wilted, spineless, is like weeds come out of the water. Such is my madness and my punishment. The abstraction, the dream, are as limited for me as the concrete and the real. Or eternal sleep with or without dreams. Erection of the entire body. My need for perfection.

But the other avenua already waking up: Cahun claaude Moore had, after all, championed Monnier’s enterprise, La Maison des Amis des Livres, from its earliest days, borrowing books from the lending library, making purchases, supporting publications, attending the events that transformed the bookstore into an ad hoc cultural center.


This translation — of a work that was always considered untranslateable — took me the best part of three years. Medium sized, with a well-worn door step, the entrance to purgatory.

The sveux that evolve in this funeral procession are not exactly phantoms. A — How to reply to that? A slow, sluggish mind; delayed reactions.

Disavowals (Aveux non Avenus) by Claude Cahun

No point in making myself comfortable. Physical description Black and white photograph of a photo-collage depicting a female figure’s head, hands, arms and lips in various states.

A look attracts him, a mouth rebuffs him. And sleep came to take revenge for all of them: So I will joyfully accept all that you send my way. And the two husbands disappeared, fearing that they might place their son in an awkward position with such a questionable and controversial paternity. Make it grow, little dream killer, make this justifiable reality grow. Ledunois, Pyrrhus6, sometimes even Arcadius?

To comment too precisely on this book would be almost indiscreet. And whatever Abeux gather to myself, I will handle it with care, subjecting it to all my formulas, try out all my names, all my things on it, make room for it. Sometimes victorious over the most atrocious inhibitions, a last-minute maneuver corrects a shadow, an imprudent gesture–and beauty is reborn.