Marie Mélanie Laurencin came from Land and was born on the 31^st October 1883 in Paris. Marie was recognized by her mother a few years after her birth. She didn’t see her father very often during her childhood.

She entered the grammar school Lamartine in 1903 and read drawing.

In 1904 she entered the Academia of painting whose name was Humbert.

She painted her first self — portrait with oil in 1905.

She married Otto von Wätjen in Paris on the twentysecond June 1914 and so became German. She broke up with her husband seven years later in 1921, because Otto was a drunkhard. Otto returned to Düsseldorf and often came to Paris to see Marie Laurencin who wouldn’t see him.

She won’t married anymore but had many others relationships.

Suzanne Moreau, the very young daughter of one of her servant entered in her service in 1925. She became her adoptive daughter in 1954 and later her heiress.

She painted The Kiss in 1937.

Marie Laurencin died from a stroke during the night of the eighth Hune 1956. Her adoptive daughter, Suzanne Moreau died twenty years later, the third December 1976 in her house.

Marie Laurencin always used the same technique to paint, she only painted with oil.

I am going to tell you the saddest story in the world, at least I think so.

I was sixty years old when my husband died from illness : of course I was very sad but I thought it was better for him to be dead than to be suffering.

I decided to undertake a travel to relax after this loss. I chose Paris as a town to explore, a nice town with its streets and its museums, but Paris became a very sad town for me because of this tragical event.

I went away on Monday April 4^th 1927. I had reserved a room in a hotel in the Champs Elysées, one of the most famous streets in the world. My room was very nice and I had a wonderful view.

As it was late in the evening, perhaps half past nine, I lay down and slept until the morning. When I awoke I heard the rain. I was really angry because I was in a nice town and so was the rain too.

I went down to have a breakfast, a real French breakfast with a crusty loaf of bread, a white coffee and delicious strawberry preserve. In the middle of my wonderful meal, the receptionist switched the radio on so that all the clients could hear a man’s voice saying that a big storm was coming on the town and that nobody was allowed to go out until the end of the storm.

I looked at the people who were in the dining — room, there was a young married couple, a woman with her son, an old man who had a beard and an old lady with her dog. They looked all very angry and I too !

The hours were very long, we stayed in this hotel for six days, six days spent eating, sleeping, speaking, playing cards and reading for those who had books.

There was an other girl in the hotel, her name was Cathy, she was Mr Leblanc’s daughter, the man with the beard. All in all, there were seven clients, a dog and all the staff.

Cathy was probably sixteen years old and looked very ill with her pale face.

The two other names I remember are Mrs Sapey and her son Julien who was probably seventeen.

The second day I learnt that Julien had met Cathy in a hospital two years before. He had to be operated on his broken leg and Cathy was following a treatment against an incurable illness, Cancer. Since the first look they fell in love. Their parents decided to do all they could do to put their children together because they didn’t want to prevent their children’s love.

They had spent their holidays in this hotel for two years. This time Cathy was in the last period of her terrible illness. It was sure that she would die in a few days. During these rainy days, they were always together. Both knew that Cathy had to die in less than a month although Mrs Sapey and Mr Leblanc hadn’t told them so. They stayed many hours sitting at the same place in silence just staring at each other.

One day I remember exactly it was the fifth day of non — stop rain, the tiredness was coming and everybody was very tight. That day Cathy didn’t go down to take her breakfast as usual. When Julien arrived in the dining — room, he looked at Cathy’s father and seeing his sad look he understood.

I saw him running and climbing the escalators. He arrived in Cathy’a room, his eyes already red. He saw his girlfriend covered with a white cloth, he took away the cloth and saw Cathy in a calm sleep. And he cried, he cried all his tears and he shouted from pain and he slept from exhaustion.

When he awoke, his cheeks hurt him from having cried so much and from despair to have lost his love, he jumped from the top of the hotel and fell on the street.

He died when the sun started to shine again, when the sky was blue again, when the birds began to sing.

I went back to my house and developed my pictures, I had taken a wonderful picture of Julien kissing Cathy’s cheek during one of their interminable sittings.

I painted this picture for one week, stopping only to eat and since then, I have shown my picture everywhere in the world : don’t to forget this story, never, never, never forget this tragical love story.