My Landscape II 1967

Joan Mitchell made “My Landscape II” with oil on canvas and in it, big, generous strokes of blue, green, and touches of red collide and dance across the surface. I can imagine Joan standing there, maybe a cigarette dangling from her lips, intensely focused yet loose, letting the painting emerge through layer upon layer of action and response. What was she thinking, I wonder? Was she trying to capture a specific place, or more a feeling, a memory of nature? There are these incredible passages of deep, saturated blues that feel like pools of water or maybe the shadows of trees. And then these sharp, almost violent reds that jolt you awake. Look at how the paint drips and splatters, leaving a trace of the artist's movement, her energy. Mitchell’s paintings are like conversations with other artists. You can see the influence of someone like Van Gogh, but she takes it somewhere completely new, pushing the boundaries of abstraction. It’s like she’s saying, “Hey Vincent, I see you, and now I’m going to do my own thing.” That’s what painting is all about, this ongoing exchange, this constant reinvention.