Rime Brune 1960

In "Rime Brune," Pablo Palazuelo has given us what feels like a slice of the earth's crust, rendered in shades of deep brown and black, shot through with veins of gold. You know, I can imagine Palazuelo in his studio, hovering over the canvas, coaxing these lines into being. Was he thinking about the geological forces that shape our world? Or was he perhaps more interested in the way that geometric forms can suggest a sense of hidden order? I’m struck by how the gold lines delineate and disrupt the darker blocks of color. They remind me a little bit of Mondrian, but if Mondrian had been an alchemist. There's a sense of mystery here, of something just out of reach. You can see the hand of the artist in the way the paint is applied, not too thick or thin, just right to give it a kind of quiet depth. It feels like a conversation, not just with the materials, but with the whole history of painting itself.