Abendlandschaft 1925

Otto Mueller made this painting of a landscape, probably in the 1920s, and it feels like it was made outdoors, right there in front of the trees. Just look at the way the pastel sticks mark the surface: they are like tentative probes, feeling their way through light and form, building an image through layering. I imagine Mueller standing there, squinting a little, pushing and pulling at the image with each stroke. There is a real sense of the artist grappling with the scene, trying to capture its essence rather than just copying its appearance. I notice how Mueller simplified the shapes, like the foliage and branches, and how he was interested in the patterns of light and shadow that fall across the landscape. It's all about finding the poetry in the everyday. It makes me think about Cézanne, and how he kept going back to paint Mont Sainte-Victoire over and over, or Van Gogh standing in the wheat fields near Arles, trying to capture something essential about the world. That is what painting is; a conversation across time, a deep and ongoing exchange.