Tibet. Monastery in the mountains. (Rakaposhi) 1940

Nicholas Roerich made this painting of a Tibetan monastery in the mountains, probably in the early to mid-20th century, using tempera on canvas. The colours are pretty subdued, with that cool palette of blues, browns, and whites. The mountains loom in the background, rendered in these solid, geometric forms, almost like a stage set. I can imagine Roerich layering the paint, building up these blocky shapes, one on top of the other. You get the sense that he’s trying to capture the monumentality of the landscape. I wonder what he was thinking about when he made it? Probably the spiritual and cultural significance of the place. I'm interested in how the paint application is quite flat and stylized. It reminds me of the work of Marsden Hartley or even some of the early modernists, who were also simplifying forms and flattening space. Roerich's paintings have a similar kind of symbolic weight. It’s like he’s trying to convey the essence of a place rather than just its appearance. Painting is this constant conversation, right? We all borrow and steal and riff off of each other, trying to make sense of the world in our own way. Ultimately, paintings allow us to see and feel things differently, embracing uncertainty and opening up multiple possibilities for interpretation.