Here is the beach at Isles of Shoals, made with oil on canvas by Childe Hassam. I can almost feel the sun on those rocks, painted with thick strokes of cream, amber, and white. Imagine Hassam, squinting in the bright light, dabbing his brush to capture the sparkle of the water and the rough texture of the stones. Look at the way he builds up the surface, layering color upon color, like he's constructing the scene from pure pigment. The paint is so present; you can almost see him moving it around with the brush, coaxing the light and shadow into being. I imagine Monet would admire it. The whole thing shimmers, doesn't it? It's like Hassam wasn't just painting a place but a moment, a fleeting impression of light and color. And that’s what painting’s all about – capturing something that slips through your fingers as soon as you try to grasp it. Each generation of painters takes something from the past and reinvents it for themselves.
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