Niki de Saint Phalle entered art history holding a rifle. In February 1961, in the impasse Ronsin — the same Montparnasse alley where Constantin Brâncuși had his studio — she propped up white plaster reliefs with bags of paint embedded in them and shot: the Tirs, shooting paintings, that bled colour where the bullets hit. The performances made her the only woman in the Nouveaux Réalistes, the French counterpart to Pop, and made her famous before she herself could say what the shooting was aimed at. Half a century later she wrote that the target had been her father, who had sexually abused her from the age of eleven — and everything else in her life that deserved a bullet.
The rage gave way to goddesses: from 1965 the Nanas — vast, buoyant, dancing women in painted patterns — culminating in Hon (1966), a reclining figure the size of a building that visitors entered between the legs, and in the Tarot Garden, the sculpture garden of tarot arcana she built in Tuscany over twenty years, living for stretches inside the Empress sphinx. With Jean Tinguely — collaborator from the impasse Ronsin days, husband from 1971 — she made the Stravinsky Fountain beside the Centre Pompidou in 1983, her coloured creatures spinning among his black machines. The polyester dust of the Nanas destroyed her lungs; she died in San Diego in 2002.