Mary Magdalene 1964

Frank Mason’s painting of Mary Magdalene feels like it emerged from some kind of chiaroscuro dream. I can almost see the artist circling his subject in the studio, the painting shifting as he tries to pin down the light. It looks like he's working wet into wet, blurring the edges of her form, trying to get at something essential about this figure, her interiority, maybe even the light of her soul. And how about that slash of cadmium red in the lower corner? It really vibrates against those muted grays. It’s like the whole painting is organized around that single brushstroke. Painting is such a physical thing. You get your hands dirty, you wrestle with the stuff, the paint itself starts to have a say. And then, if you’re lucky, the painting starts to breathe. It’s a conversation between the artist, the paint, and everyone who comes after, looking and trying to understand.