Instead they wanted to emphasise the two-dimensional quality of the canvas.
Figures and objects were dissected and re-assembled into hideous but compelling figures, for a while the original subject was evoked but then that small comfort was blown to kingdom come.
Then Picasso exploded the whole shebang, he began pasting coloured pieces of paper on his compositions, three dimensional perspective was erased and now the real world was penetrating art.
Following the hell of World War I, Picasso followed the rest of Europe and tip-toed away from the precipice, stopped contemplating flinging himself into the abyss - he began to produce work in a neo-classical style.
At this stage Picasso could have shat on a canvas and the world would have applauded, Picasso detested his fame, seeing as the curse of the artist.
He began sculpting work, perhaps hoping that the world would leave him alone, that they would not be interested in his novel attempts at a different medium, of course this was not to be.
His work was now being influenced by the burgeoning Surrealist movement but conversely they viewed their work as hereditary of Picasso.
His final works were a mish-mash of styles, he churned out work in a mind-boggling amount of styles.
The majority dismissed his late work, deriding him as an old geezer who was way past his prime.
How could they dismiss him? Had they learnt nothing? Had they not being watching him for decades and decades? Only after his death, when the rest of the world had moved on from abstract expressionism did the wishy-washy art community realise that Picasso had already discovered neo-expressionism, as usual way ahead of his time, again they would have to go to class to learn the new visual language.