Meret Oppenheim was born in Berlin in 1913 and raised largely in Switzerland. She came to Paris in 1932, at eighteen, to be an artist, and was quickly absorbed into the Surrealist group around André Breton. She was younger than almost everyone in it, and the group's habit of casting women as muse rather than colleague shaped how she was seen for decades. Man Ray photographed her nude at a printing press in 1933, in the series Érotique voilée, and those images did as much to fix her public image as anything she made herself.
In 1936 she was having lunch with Pablo Picasso and Dora Maar at the Café de Flore. Oppenheim was wearing a bracelet she had designed, a metal tube wrapped in ocelot fur. Picasso remarked that you could cover anything in fur. Oppenheim replied that you could — even this cup and saucer.
She then went and did it. She bought a plain cup, saucer and spoon from a department store, covered them in the speckled fur of a Chinese gazelle, and produced the single most recognisable Surrealist object ever made. Breton put it in his exhibition of Surrealist objects at the Charles Ratton gallery in Paris in May 1936 and gave it the title Le Déjeuner en fourrure; it went to New York later that year for the Museum of Modern Art's Fantastic Art, Dada, Surrealism, and MoMA bought it. It was the first work by a woman artist to enter that collection, and it is catalogued there simply as Object.
The piece works because it is a small, precise assault on the senses. A teacup is the most domesticated object there is, and fur in the mouth is close to unbearable to think about. It is also, unavoidably, a joke about women, refinement and appetite made by a twenty-two-year-old woman, which is why it has stayed argued-over for ninety years.
Success at that age nearly finished her. Oppenheim spent much of the following two decades in a prolonged crisis, producing little and destroying some of what she did produce, and only returned to sustained work in the 1950s and 1960s — sculpture, jewellery, poetry, and objects that had nothing to do with fur. She lived until 1985 and spent much of that later career resisting the reduction of her whole output to a single teacup. The resistance did not entirely work, which is part of the story.