Untitled 1961

Corneille made this "Untitled" work in '69, conjuring up a world with ink and watercolor. I like to imagine him in the studio, maybe a bit restless, as he laid down that initial wash of grey. Then, the black lines came, nervous and quick, like a seismograph recording an earthquake. They tangle and loop, a dense thicket of marks. Here and there, soft pinks and muted reds pop up, like shy flowers in a thorny garden. I wonder if Corneille felt a sense of urgency, a need to get something down fast. Was he thinking of cityscapes? Landscapes? Or maybe just the sheer joy of putting line to paper? The paint is thin, almost translucent, letting the paper breathe. I see the influence of folks like Picasso and Miró in that playful, almost childlike quality. It feels like a conversation, you know? Artists talking to each other across time. It's like they are saying, “Here’s what I see, here's what I feel; now, what do you think?” Painting can be like that – open-ended, full of possibilities.