Daybreak (I) 1906

Mikalojus Konstantinas Ciurlionis made this small painting, Daybreak, without a date, using thin layers of paint in a muted palette. Imagine him, maybe outside, observing the first light of day, trying to capture the essence of a new beginning. There’s something almost ghostly about this painting. Those vertical marks – are they buildings, or some kind of ethereal barrier? I love the way the colors blend softly, like a memory. The canvas peeks through, adding to the dreamlike quality. Ciurlionis was a composer too, right? I see a musicality in the rhythm of those lines, like notes on a staff. It reminds me a little bit of Whistler’s nocturnes, but with a stranger, more personal touch. Painters borrow and steal from each other all the time. It’s a conversation across generations. Ciurlionis looked to the past, and now, we look at his paintings and find new ways of seeing. Each brushstroke is a record of thought, feeling, a moment in time. It’s up to us to keep the conversation going.