Pierre-Auguste Renoir painted this self-portrait in 1910 with visible brushstrokes of reds, browns, and creams. You can tell Renoir is getting older, right? I imagine him in his studio, looking in the mirror, thinking about aging, about his legacy. What does he see? What does he want us to see? There’s a wonderful rawness to the paint handling, a kind of directness. He's not trying to be overly precise or realistic. It feels like the colors are a little bit off. See that creamy stroke describing the knot of his scarf? It almost seems to vibrate against the background. It reminds me of some of the rapid alla prima painting I've been doing lately. It's funny how artists from different eras are always in dialogue. I feel like I'm continuing a conversation that Renoir started. Painting’s like that, an ongoing exchange of ideas. Each mark is a testament to that conversation.
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