Woman's Accordian 1938

John Thorsen made this watercolour painting of a woman’s accordion, but the date of its creation is not known. I like the directness of Thorsen’s vision here. The accordion emerges through layers of delicate brushstrokes. The wood grain and floral inlays, the symphony of buttons, keys, and patterned bellows – it is all so carefully rendered. I’m thinking about the artist, alone with this object. He handles it, turns it, and begins to paint, slowly building up a sense of form and depth. The light shimmers off the ivory keys, the polished wood. He must have felt the pull and push of the instrument as he painted. The air moving in and out, expanding and contracting. It reminds me of other artists, like Morandi, who spend years painting the same bottles, finding endless variations in light and form. Or maybe, like the folk art of Bill Traylor, Thorsen is just trying to make sense of the world around him, one painting at a time. We are all talking to one another across time. Painting offers us the chance to listen.