Le Choeur des Sphinges 1964

René Magritte conjured this enigmatic chorus of sphinxes with paint, constructing a landscape where the familiar meets the utterly strange. Imagining him at work, I see Magritte carefully layering the paint, building up the textures of the trees and the sky, each stroke precise, almost mechanical. Then, he floats these uncanny shapes above—are they clouds, spirits, or some strange hybrid of both? The contrast between the meticulous rendering of the forest and the floating forms creates a tension, a kind of visual dissonance that makes you wonder what Magritte was thinking when he made this. What secrets did he intend to reveal, or perhaps conceal? There's a nod to Giorgio de Chirico here, that sense of mystery and unease, but Magritte brings his own brand of surreal wit to the canvas. Like any great painter, he engages in an exchange of ideas across time. Each artwork builds on what has come before, inspiring something new.