Cigar Store Figure c. 1939

Albert Ryder painted this “Cigar Store Figure” using watercolor, and gouache, sometime in the 20th century. The figure strides out, an almost cartoonish caricature, yet somehow grounded in the real world. The colors are muted; the palette is full of dusky browns and grays, and they feel grounded, even dusty. I think of Ryder as working within a space of continual re-evaluation, of building up, rubbing back, and ceaselessly reworking his surfaces, much like I approach my own work. Looking closely at the figure’s outstretched arm, you can see the application of paint is smooth, almost uniform, lacking in texture; it is as though he is offering something, presenting it to us. The shadow falling on the man’s trousers also stands out. The way the shadow is rendered flattens the figure, and that, to me, feels like a way to consider the work's symbolic weight. Artists like Ryder who are interested in the symbol are engaged in a kind of conversation with the history of images. People like Redon come to mind, who dealt in similar ways with interior and psychological spaces. But, ultimately, art is about keeping the conversation going, generation after generation.