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These wishes confirm the artist’s despair at the beginning of World War II, which he expresses in this work honouring the nameless "who suffer" and "who struggle".
The horrors of war made the lyre slip from the artist’s hand, whose humanist ideal seems to be defeated but who seeks consolation in his faith. And if death triumphs, what does it matter since it is a rebirth for Emanuel Swedenborg, which he affirms in his book, Secrets of Heaven, held by the angels seated on the tomb.
In January 1942 Smit writes to Nicolaas Urban: "finally let us always hope, since the Lord and art exist."1 in response to the appreciations the latter had sent him shortly before: "[…] Then, my attention turns to the second reproduction: memories of a later date – the memories of Recloses! What a wonderful time for you of beauty and of love – of intimate walks like in heaven. Moments when nature was in its highest ecstasy; moments when a real artist like you receives balm for his soul. Immortal landscapes with eternal impact. Although the figure in the middle is broken and the two angels cry, but the beauty of the landscape and the sky – high above the figure – are still there and of an indestructible beauty. The flowers, so pure, so noble, as the newborns are always there every spring: they embrace the Lyre! [...]"2
1. "enfin espérons toujours, puisque le Seigneur et l’Art existent" (Philippe Smit, ALS to the Urbans, 12 January 1942, private archives, Paris).
2. "[…] Après, mon regard tombe sur la deuxième reproduction: des souvenirs plus tard – les souvenirs de Recloses! Quelle belle époque pour toi de la beauté et d’amour – des promenades intimes comme au Ciel. Des moments que la nature était dans sa plus haute extase; des moments que un vrais artiste comme toi reçoit de baume sur son âme. Des paysages immortels/ avec des impressions pour tous les temps. Bien que la figure au milieu est brisé et que les deux anges pleurent mais la beauté du paysage et le ciel - haut dessus de la figure – sont toujours là et d’une beauté indestructible! Les fleurs, si pures, si nobles, comme des nouveaux nés sont toujours là chaque printemps : ils embrassent la Lyre! […]" [sic] (Nicolaas Urban, ALS to Philippe Smit, Ceray [Céré-la-Ronde], [Indre], Christmas 1941, private archives, Paris, reply upon receiving from Philippe Smit at Christmas three reproductions of his latest works [PS 485], [PS 473] and [PS 486]).
