In this, I see a waterfall in a jungle. Don’t ask me. I don’t even know.
Tag: American art
Monday
Sunday
In many ways, this painting screams grief and despair. It is all angles and desolation and emotional distance, stark contrast of colors and furious slashes of highlights that don’t quite fit where they’re meant to. It’s wrong and painful and yet… you can tell it’s meant to be therapy. It is a benediction, a begging for life to feel normal again, a tiny glimmer of hope in the darkness of deepest depression.
Saturday
Friday
Thursday
Whenever we talk about some of my favorite pieces of art, I have to stomp on my urge to just drag people straight to this painting and go, “THIS IS EVERYTHING I LOVE ABOUT ART AFTER IMPRESSIONISM ENDS.” It is slashes of color; it is expressionism and indistinct, yet it is coherent. It is bold and succinct. It is poignant and direct and to the point. It has no problem telling you exactly what it is and why it’s here and that you are just a fly on the wall. This is a particular kind of unapologetic art for art’s sake, and I love it so much it makes my little heart burst.
Wednesday
Tuesday
Monday
Sunday
This, in and of itself, is a very simple image – both stylistically and color-wise. There is nothing complex or challenging about it. However, in a room full of paintings, it is the one that draws you in and tugs you across the way to look at it. It radiates peaceful serenity and the gentle harmony of a world that is at rest before the oncoming storm of a new day.