View from my window 1905

Ivan Grohar made this dreamy landscape, *View from my window*, using oil paint. The marks are soft and feathery, a symphony of lilacs, yellows, and creams. I can just imagine him in the act of painting, layering colours, shifting shapes, trying things out until something clicks. I wonder what it was like for Grohar, looking out of his window and trying to capture that fleeting moment on canvas? Did he mix colours slowly, or did he slap the paint on quickly? There's a tenderness here, in the way the paint seems to melt into the canvas, but also an urgency. The paint isn't thick, more like a veil. It's almost like he’s using colour to capture light itself. That little dab of orange near the middle sings. I feel like Grohar is having a conversation with painters like Monet, but with his own distinct voice. Painters are always in dialogue with each other, riffing on ideas, colours, and marks. That’s how we keep each other going. Painting allows us to explore different ways of seeing and experiencing the world, embracing ambiguity. There’s always room for new interpretations.