Cliffs at Fecamp in Normandy 1920

Gustave Loiseau painted these cliffs in Normandy with short, choppy brushstrokes, like he was knitting the scene together with colour. I imagine Loiseau standing there, squinting at the light, trying to capture the way the water meets the sky. The paint is applied in layers, a mosaic of blues, greens, and earth tones, each dab a response to the changing light. The cliffs themselves are rendered with a kind of chunky tenderness, the strokes mimicking the rough texture of the stone. It’s like he’s not just painting what he sees, but also what he feels. It reminds me of some of the early Impressionists, like Monet or Pissarro, but with a slightly more grounded, less ethereal quality. You can feel the weight of the earth in Loiseau's strokes. Artists are always in conversation, aren't they? Each one responding to what came before, pushing it in new directions. Painting is just that, a way of feeling and being.