Patxi Buldain’s lifetime work can be seen at the Foundation and the Exhibition Center named after him, in Huarte. Periodically, the exhibition is renewed and the artist's collection reveals the walls of the bright house built by the contemporary Navarre architect Eusa. Buldain has worked very varied techniques and supports, oils on fabric, gouache, acrylics and collages on paper or oil and rope mixed on board of zinc and wood. And recently, also the iron seams of the bed dumbbells. The exhibition was called Somier's X-ray.

Art critics stress the intention of the son of Pamplona to be open to external influences, while maintaining his own conception. “He who caresses a weapon, caresses death,” the school teacher of the Republic taught him. The young Buldain lost his trail, does not have the slightest idea of what would happen to him as a result of the fascist uprising, forgot his own name, but never his words. Since then, the Compass of the artist Buldain has been the great influx of audience. To such an extent, he did the work of honor of his enemigos.Se calls homage to my enemies, a work done in 2010 on the board with a mixture of iron, acrylic and oil. Gabriel Celaya believed that the strength of poetry was “to participate until it gets dirty,” so Buldain has always thought that painting “must reflect the truth of everyday life.”

Run over the soul

“From a young age I was rebellious,” remembers Patxi Buldain, with a smile on his lips. “I was in the schools of San Francisco, in Pamplona. At 9 years old, we had an honorable professor. She cultivated self-discipline, it was about going to the toilet or washing her hands without asking her permission. When we entered the room, I asked: Are we all? ! Do we get there?’ and we started to work. He spoke to us about the side of the Republic, which was then recently approved. He assured us that it was a good thing for us. I was 10 years old when the war began. We went to school and soon realized: the lion and the woman, you know, symbol of the Republic, lying on the ground, broken, some emboldened, and our teacher didn't show up. We couldn't understand if there were red caps with rifles everywhere, what the hell would have happened there? We wanted to get into the room and they disassembled us. You, in the hallway!, screamed at us. So the new professor lined us up three-to-three-to-three-to-three and brought us in like a military man. He wore a blue shirt, a black tie and a thousand striped suit. I wanted to teach us authority and discipline, obviously by Phalanx. I remember his name. Don Onieva. ‘Good morning Don Onieva, have you rested well?’ we told him every morning and he replied: ‘Yes, by the grace of God.’ But I do not retain the name of the other poor man, do you understand? ! Then I understood what had happened to him.”

Talking to Patxi Buldain is traveling through history. It could disappear, you see how it took hold of the seed of violence thrown into the air by the red professor who had shot it. “He told us about the bourgeoisie, about the values of the teacher who praised us for equality and we began to interpret reality accordingly. A good fault was the patient!”

Painting, shop window

What was he going to do, which, even by fascism, Patxi Buldain would become one of the most important contemporary Navarran painters? If the question is where the beginning of Buldain’s painting can be, you have to answer that the part is, of course, Patxi’s fantasy spirit. And the other, in the good sense and disposition of simple people. However, at the top of the stairs leading to the seventh floor of Zapatería Street, the child Buldain made a pencil dance, here and there, as a decoration. “I painted on the walls. On the corners of the gallery there were several banks destined to pose, in which women alone appeared loaded with shopping. My mother was furious. You've painted again! But the other housewives answered him: ‘Leave the woman! You have very nice paintings!”

But, without Paris, would Buldain's ability also grow? However, unbearable fascism would lead him there. His ambition made him defy fate and passed on to “France.” “I was in Bera, soldier. I mean, I was talking to Basque Biscayan delinquents. They explained to me, word by word, the details of the creek that comes down from Larrun. I knew it was hiding in a place like this. I started thinking about the way forward. I took the money I had, a 9 millimeter long Astra pistol is a hand pump. If I had taken the Civil Guard, I would have thrown it: it was a face to face, they or I, and I would have thrown it. So I went to the other side. I came to a farm and stopped for a few days. Because they were smugglers, they knew it in Spanish. They gave me meals and told me: ‘Go down the Camino Real. Gendarmes will take you. The border is closed, don’t be afraid, don’t come back.” The gendarmes took me to the parachutists in Baiona. It was 1947. We talked at the barracks, we talked with gestures. Then they came to see me from the refugee support center. And they gave me the ticket to Paris and from there the ticket to the North of France.”

“Paris, ma bohême”

For years, Patxi Buldain lived working during the day in the construction or cleaning of restaurant dishes in Paris. “There was the vanguard of theater, literature, painting, culture in general. I also met Camus, Sartre, Brassens. I especially remember Camus. I was coming to concerts for the prisoners in Spain. Her mother was Spanish at birth. It was one of ours, Camus. When we crossed, I threw it: Come here, man! Then there was a lot of movement in Paris, mixing intellectuals with political movements: communist, socialist, anarchist… I was walking with anarchists and Camus was also their own. Every Sunday I went to the anarchist center, to the street of Sainte Marthe. On the other hand, we also met in the Spanish inn, on Pompe Street, because it had good wine. Here the anarchists come to taste the wine! When we met with other painters at the Coupol de Montparnasse, we were provoking each other. We believed that literature, painting, art -- they were to make a revolution and another world. So I didn't think we would meet the world today. Lorca had already denounced the brutality of capitalism, slavery, which was going to happen to Sacco and Vanzetti… Now, in my case, the pinto within broken and corrupted nature. To show the corruption and greed that the selfishness of capital brings. So when I was in Paris, I painted after my work at the Grand Chaumière de Montparnasse. Modigliani went ahead of us. I learned how to make croquis. But I didn't like to copy models. And in the evening, I went to Belleville School of Fine Arts. For this school it was asked to have knowledge in Fine Arts, as first of all a test had to be passed. An Italian teacher saw my work and encouraged me to do a lot of things. I started painting on the classic and suddenly he said to me: ‘Now you have to break with your smells. You have to do it with your left hand!’ It also helped me learn sculpture. And I followed the painting on my side.”

In the wake of our conversation, we can't master curiosity. What were Patxi Buldain's relationships with Pablo Picasso? The Navarro, as surprised by the question, confesses to us simply that yes, he presented with him at the museum in Saint Ouen. But it doesn't give it any more importance. Why? “Man couldn’t approach. He had more people around him than the prince of Spain.” At that exhibition they bought Patxi Buldain one of their first paintings. “I was considered a young Spanish painter of great renown. Do not forget that Saint Ouen was then in the red belt of Paris. That’s why our exhibition helped.”

Half a century of work, what could a young artist of yesteryear tell a subject today? “With what I’ve done, I’ve always had pleasure. My painting is empty street – says: “on the fucking street” – I have never wanted to portray big people. Impressionists, many anarchists, imagined it to me: I wanted to reflect the truth of everyday life, a substance of truth. That's why they tell me that my paintings leave some trace. Beauty for what? In Paris, I had a beautiful woman. Very beautiful. In my youth, we are all beautiful. But how little substance I had! In the heart, beauty consists of being, without egoism, in free love… That will have its reflection in my painting: the truth because I am a supporter of the whore. I could advise a young painting enthusiast to reflect what you're wearing inside. Learn the trade first, then listen to your heart. Do what you haven't done. Think and choose.”