Bullfight 1934

Picasso made this painting, *Bullfight*, with oil on wood. I can almost feel his presence in the studio, the scent of the oil paint. There's something so instinctual about the way he’s rendered the figures. Look at the horse – its mouth agape, as though caught in a silent scream. I imagine Picasso stepping back, squinting, then lunging forward to add that stroke of black that defines the bull's powerful shoulder. The color palette is limited, earthy tones punctuated by that aggressive pink. It's like a memory, fragmented and raw. He is in conversation with Goya here, but also maybe with the Fauves and their expressive use of color. But it is still all him. Painting is like a tightrope walk, a dance between control and chance. And, like all painters, Picasso leaves us clues, breadcrumbs of paint, inviting us to complete the journey.