Study After Titian I 1965

Frank Auerbach made Study After Titian I with oil on board, in no particular year. The gestural marks and earthy palette kinda pull you in, right? I can almost feel Auerbach wrestling with the paint, smearing and building, scraping back, trying to find Titian’s ghost, you know? Imagine him, standing there, maybe frustrated, maybe exhilarated, mixing up colors thick as mud, trying to channel a master from centuries ago. The paint is so physical, like he’s sculpting with it, not just covering a surface. That one juicy stroke of white, cutting through the darkness, is like a bolt of lightning, right? It’s not just a line, it's a feeling, an intention, a burst of energy. Auerbach’s always playing with these layers, pushing and pulling, like he’s digging for something deeper. We are all in conversation, like Titian and Auerbach were chatting across time, feeding each other’s fire. Painting is like that, embodied and ambiguous, isn’t it? It embraces uncertainty and lets us all find our own stories in it.