Sycamore 1974

Eyvind Earle’s ‘Sycamore’ is a flat plane of luminous yellows and greens with a strange tree form taking center stage. I can imagine the artist leaning in, using a tiny brush to create the dappled effect of light filtering through the canopy. It looks like Earle laid down some wet pigment and then blotted it away, leaving these intense, dark blooms in the upper reaches of the tree. He clearly delights in the way paint behaves, almost as if the medium has a mind of its own. The light is extraordinary, not naturalistic but a kind of internal glow—the tree seems lit from within. I’m reminded a little of Milton Avery here, with his interest in simplified forms and flattened space, yet Earle has his own specific sensibility. I imagine he’s off in his studio, thinking about Japanese landscape painting, maybe a bit of Art Deco, and nature itself. Ultimately, he’s adding his own unique take to the conversation. It’s inspiring, don’t you think?