Veere 1926

James McBey made this watercolour of Veere with soft blues, greens, and browns that evoke a serene, muted landscape. It’s like watching him feel his way through the scene, each wash and line a delicate exploration. I imagine McBey standing there, squinting against the light, trying to capture the essence of the place. The paint is thin, almost translucent, allowing the paper to breathe. Look at the way he suggests the clouds with broad, sweeping strokes—it feels spontaneous, like a fleeting moment captured on paper. Those windmills and buildings, they’re not just objects, they’re like characters in a quiet, unfolding drama. It reminds me of the work of other landscape painters, like Turner, who sought to capture the sublime beauty of nature, but with a more intimate, personal touch. You know, artists are always building on each other’s ideas, having this ongoing conversation across time. In the end, painting is about embracing ambiguity, allowing for multiple interpretations, and finding new ways of seeing the world.