Karelia, Solomenskoe Village 1969

Petros Malayan made this watercolour called ‘Karelia, Solomenskoe Village,’ sometime in the 20th century. What hits me first is the way he's built the scene with these broad strokes, making no bones about the process. It's all about layering washes of colour, letting the paper peek through here and there. Check out the texture of the wooden planks, how the paint almost crackles with dryness, contrasting with the wet-in-wet areas in the water. And see that figure in the red shirt standing so still? Almost like a cardboard cutout, yet so grounded in the loose, fluid landscape. That little touch of bright orange is a visual anchor. It makes the rest of the muted palette sing. It makes me think of those early Diebenkorn landscapes, the way he'd lay down these simple geometric shapes and let the colours do all the talking. Malayan does something similar here, embracing the ambiguity of watercolours, letting the scene emerge from a dance of colour and gesture.