For Sara Teasdale 1992

Ronnie Landfield painted 'For Sara Teasdale' with fluid washes of colour, and confident lines of thick paint. I imagine him starting with the washes, letting them bloom like watercolour flowers, each bleed and blend a happy accident. Looking at that misty left panel, I think of Turner, especially in those yellows, pinks, and violets, but there's also something very modern and tough about how Landfield divides the canvas and lets the different parts talk to each other. It's almost like two different artists were at play here. On the right-hand panel, the angular lines create a sort of portal or rudimentary doorway, painted against a bold maroon background. The raw brushstrokes feel almost improvisational; it's as if Landfield is working through something in real-time. Painters are always responding to one another, picking up where someone else left off, or even arguing with the past. That's how art moves forward, not in a straight line, but in fits and starts, always questioning and pushing.