Partisans 1984

Alexander Bogen’s painting, Partisans, likely made with oil on canvas, is full of strong diagonals and tonal contrasts, suggesting a gathering of figures emerging from the gloom. I'm imagining Bogen in his studio, perhaps in the midst of winter, wrestling with this composition. I see him, thinking and feeling his way through the figures, which are built up with thick strokes of creamy white and muddy blues and browns, always adjusting, adding, subtracting. There’s a gestural directness in how the artist applies the paint, almost like a dance, the brushstrokes laying down the contours of the forms. The white bandages on the one figure really stand out, and I can see how other painters, like Goya, might have been on Bogen’s mind as he was making this. What do these bandages signify in terms of hope and despair? Ultimately, painting is like this ongoing conversation, generation to generation. I wonder who Bogen will inspire next? The beauty of painting is in its ambiguity, the way it can embrace so many different readings.