Garden in St. Germain, The European Quarter Near Tunis 1914

Paul Klee made this watercolour, ‘Garden in St. Germain’, with delicate washes and blocks of pigment. I can imagine him working outside, his paper gently buckling under the wetness, the colours mixing right there on the surface in a dance of chance and control. I sympathize with Klee, trying to capture the light and the architecture, the feeling of a place. He’s not aiming for a photograph, but something more like a memory or an impression. Look at how the blues bleed into the purples, creating a sense of depth, or the way the thin washes allow the paper to peek through, adding a touch of luminosity. He’s in dialogue with the Cubists, but also with artists like Matisse, who knew how to distill a scene down to its essence. I think of other artists who’ve chased the light, from Turner to Hockney. It’s a timeless pursuit, this attempt to pin down the ephemeral. It’s a conversation across generations. Painting lets us see and feel, without closure, without end.