The Master 2016

Adam Caldwell painted "The Master" with oil, and it’s got this real juicy way of laying down paint, like buttering toast, but with a serious edge. It’s all about surfaces, isn't it? The face emerges from a dark ground through distinct brushstrokes, each dab a deliberate choice. I love the way the red of the turtleneck is just a flat block, creating this weird tension with the detailed, almost classical rendering of the head. Look at the mustache: it's soft and rounded, built up from feathery strokes of umber and cream. The way it hovers above that aggressive block of red is so strange, it's like the painting is asking questions about power, authority, and maybe even vulnerability. Caldwell reminds me a bit of Marlene Dumas, in the way he captures a likeness while hinting at something more complicated beneath the surface, a kind of psychological portraiture. It's about what we see, and how we see it, always shifting, never quite settled.