Butterfly 1966

This is Alexander Calder’s ‘Butterfly’, a print made in 1966 with black, red, and yellow ink on paper. Look at how the shapes appear to float across the page, tethered to each other by spindly, almost nervous lines. I can imagine Calder in his studio, his mind a whirl of invention, spontaneously conjuring these images. There's a real freedom in the lines - a sense of improvisation, like doodling in a daydream. The primary colours give it a playful, light energy. That central black form, sprouting tendrils, has a kind of primal energy, and beside it, the butterfly, delicate and precise, almost quivering. And then there’s that bold spiral! It reminds me of the way Joan Miró would use simple shapes to suggest vast, cosmic spaces. Calder's earlier mobiles come to mind when looking at this work: his interest in line, form, and movement, translated here onto a 2-dimensional surface. It’s all part of this incredible back-and-forth between artists, across time and space, this constant pollination of ideas.