Bodegón 1918

María Blanchard made this still life, Bodegón, with oil on canvas and a muted palette; it is like she was whispering. I imagine her pushing the paint around, tilting the canvas this way and that, trying to find just the right balance between those dark, brooding blocks and the soft curves of the objects. Look at the way she's built up these planes, one next to the other. Like she's assembling a puzzle, but the pieces don't quite fit. I wonder if she struggled with it, pushing against the edges of the canvas, never quite satisfied. There's an unfinished quality, an openness that invites you to complete the picture. It's not about representing reality, but about constructing a new kind of seeing. Blanchard has obviously thought about Picasso and Braque, but forged her own path. All paintings speak to each other across time, don't they? And this one is full of questions, doubts, and a stubborn refusal to settle for easy answers.