Rene Magritte, God on Eighth Day (1937)
I love the tongue in cheek in this mutilating photograph. Am pretty sure that Walter Benjamin’s reflections on the liquidation of aura in the age of mechanical reproduction does not, in fact cannot jibe with Magritte’s very funny picture. I need to look more clearly into the religious or spiritual impulse in Dada and surrealism. In this photograph, God is so arch, so coy, so canny, withdrawn behind a crude image of the world.