Canal, Venice (Venice from the Giudecca) 1952

William Congdon’s ‘Canal, Venice,’ is a world of ochres, creams, and browns, punctuated by a stark tower of red. I imagine the artist building up the surface, scraping and layering like sediment, to create a gritty, almost melancholic vision of Venice. The lines scratch out buildings, churches, and spires, but they also seem to suggest a deeper, more turbulent undercurrent. The earthy tones feel heavy, like the weight of history, but then there’s this playful, almost scribbled line that dances across the sky, injecting a sense of freedom and spontaneity. I wonder if Congdon was thinking of Turner, whose Venetian scenes are so full of light and atmosphere, yet here, everything feels grounded and solid. It's as if Congdon wanted to capture the essence of Venice not as a floating dream, but as a place of tangible, earthly reality. It’s a reminder that painting is an ongoing conversation across time, each artist bringing their unique perspective to the canvas.